Part 33
Nritya Pravah Dance Studio - Two weeks later, Wednesday November 13th, 5:40 pm
“All right girls, once again from the top! Follow me! Five, six, seven, eight…”
The dance instructor took her position in front of the class as her students mimicked her plié and graceful hand poses along with it.
“Let your body flow freely and naturally. Grace and elegance is key…” she instructed.
It was a beginners level ballet class, with girls of all ages. Ruhi danced in the second row, standing on her tip-toes and bending her knees in her attempt of a plié. There were other dancers in the room with better form and technique, but what distinguished her from the rest was the huge smile plastered on her face that brightened her entire being. Dressed in a pink leotard, white tights, and ballet shoes with Tchaikovsky’s music playing in her ears, she felt like a real life barbie. It was a dream come true.
“And… we’re done for today. Great job, girls! I’ll see you next week! Good work everyone!” The 45-minute long session came to an end.
Ruhi galloped outside to meet her mother, making no effort to contain her excitement. Outside the dance studio, she found Ishita standing at the entrance of the building, glancing at her watch.
“Ishimaa!” Ruhi waved to her mother, jumping up and down.
Ishita looked up to see her precious girl running towards her.
“Hi baccha!” she exclaimed, taking her daughter into her arms. “Kaisi rahi ballet class?”
“It was amazing, mumma! Bahot maza aaya! Look!”
Ruhi spun around and bent her knees in a plié.
“Main bilkul barbie lag rahi hoon na?!”
“Barbie se bhi pyaari lag rahi ho,” Ishita admitted. “Abhi ghar chale?”
“Yes, let’s go! Mujhe papa ko bhi dikhana hai. Woh office se aa gaye honge na?”
“Bas raaste mein hi honge. Humse pehle ghar pahoch jaayenge.”
Ishita took hold of her daughter’s hand and led her to her car. After buckling Ruhi’s seatbelt, she got into the driver’s seat and started the car. As she shifted the gear and began driving home, her daughter’s chatter continued all along.
“...and then the teacher turned on the same music from the Barbie Swan Lake movie, you know the one where Odette dances with the prince? And we all danced to that music like princesses! And then…”
“Shaant, shaant baby, calm down,” Ishita interrupted. “Lagta hai aapko toh bahut mazaa aaya ballet class mein.”
“Yes!”
“Accha to phir yeh batao, aaj ke ballet class aur kal ke bharatanatyam class mein se aapko kaun sa zyada accha-”
“Ballet!” Ruhi blurted out her answer before Ishita even finished her question.
“Par aap bharatanatyam continue toh karoge, na? Aap ko seekhna chahiye. It’s part of our heritage.”
“Okay mumma, I’ll continue with both. But my favorite is ballet!”
“Okay baby. Duly noted,” Ishita chuckled.
She pulled into the parking lot of their society beside her husband’s car.
“Papa aa gaye! Ishimaa, main upar jaa rahi hoon!” Ruhi screamed. This girl had no concept of a volume dial.
“Sambhaalke Ru! Dheere se jaana!” Ishita yelled after her.
By the time Ishita parked the car and got out, Ruhi was already running upstairs. Ishita picked up the pace and followed her. Her daughter was the human personification of fire and energy and excitement. She hoped from the bottom of her heart that Ruhi never lost that passion.
As she walked in the front door of the Bhalla house, her eyes widened at the scene playing in front of her.
“Chaliye papa! Aur yeh table hataayiye! I wanna show you my dance moves!” Ruhi was dragging Raman by the hand from his bedroom. He was still in his two piece suit, with messy hair and a tie loosely hung from his neck. Poor guy didn’t even have a chance to freshen up after getting home.
“Aa raha hoon beta! Mera haath to chodo!”
“Nahi papa, jaldi aao!”
“Beta, papa ka haath itni zor se kheechogi to haath toot ke gir jaayega.”
“Papa yeh table ko side mein karo.” Ruhi pointed to the living room table and put her father to work.
“Waah Raman,” Toshi quipped from the kitchen. “Tu puri company ko order deta phirta hai, aur teri beti tujhse hi kaam karwa rahi hai. Good good ji, very good Ruhi!” She stopped in the task of peeling potatoes to applaud her granddaughter.
While Raman moved the table to create space in the living room, Ishita washed her hands in the kitchen and joined her mother-in-law.
“Layiye mummyji, main karti hoon,” she offered. “Kya banana hain?”
“Dekh, maine non-veg mein mutton curry banayi hai aur dining table pe rakh di hai-'' She pointed to the copper casserole on the table. “-aur vegetarian mein bas abhi aloo matar ki sabzi bana rahi hoon. Aur saath mein parathe bhi bana denge. Thik rahega na?”
“Ha mummyji, sahi rahega. Aap aloo kaat rahi hain to main matar cheel deti hoon.”
Over in the living room, Raman slouched on the couch and faced his daughter.
“Okay Ruhi, ab dikhao jo dikhana hai,” he sighed.
Ruhi went on to narrate every moment of her ballet class with occasional displays of the plié and pirouette. Despite his long day at the office, Raman listened intently, pride and joy washing away the day’s exhaustion.
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Bhalla House, Raman & Ishita’s bedroom - 10 pm
Ishita walked into the room in her night clothes to find Raman sprawled on the bed, groaning.
“Kya hua Raman? Bahot thak gaye aaj?” she asked.
“Arey kya batau, office mein itna kaam tha aaj… aur ek to iss contract ne sab ki band bajaa rakhi hain. Clients ke demands bandh hi nahi hote!” he complained.
Ishita sat on the couch and began rubbing lotion on her hands and face.
“Aur phir Ruhi… baap re… kitni energy hai us ladki mein?!” Raman marveled, rubbing a hand down his face. He sat up to face Ishita. “Itni energy kahaan se aati hain usme?”
“Bacchon mein hoti hai itni energy. Shravu jab se paida hua na, tab se Vandu akka ka kehna hai ki uske piche bhaagte bhaagte hi unka workout ho jata hain. Aur jab se Ruhi meri life mein aayi hai, tab se mujhe bhi yahin feeling hoti hain,” Ishita replied.
“Ek to itni energy, upar se tumhari sangat. Mujhe to uss bande ke liye bura lagta hain jisse uski shaadi hogi.”
“Haan- ek minute.” Ishita stood up and glared at her husband with hands on her hips. “What do you mean by ‘tumhari sangat’?”
“What I mean is, jo abhi meri haalat hai shaadi ke baad wohi haalat uski hogi.” He stood up to face her. “Kya kya sehna padta mujhe. Kisi bhi waqt Jhansi ki rani ki talwar nikalti hai, din bhar ke lectures, aur yeh lectures aate kahan se hai yeh to bhagwan hi jaane. Kyunki tumhare top floor mein to unhunone kuch daala hi nahin.”
“Har waqt mujhe taane dete rehte hain,” Ishita scowled. “Kabhi dimaag ka sahi use nahi karte aap? Waise to bada keh rahe the abhi, ‘thak gaya hoon’ aur ‘bahot kaam tha’ vagere vagere, par mujhe taane dene mein kabhi nahi thakte.”
“Isse kehte hain Punjabi dimaag.” Raman tapped his temple. “Kuch din humare saath rahogi to tum bhi seekh jaaogi.”
Ishita stared at her husband open-mouthed and scoffed in disbelief. This man was incorrigible. A change of topic was the need of the hour.
“By the way, aapne abhi abhi Ruhi ki shaadi ki baat nikaali. Aapne sachmuch socha hain us baare mein?”
“Not really, woh to bas aise hi baat nikli to maine bol diya.”
“Baat nikli nahi, aapne nikaali,” she pointed out.
“Ab iss topic pe jhagda karna hai tumhe?” He crossed his arms and glowered at her.
“I was just pointing out ki aaj pehli baar Ruhi ki shaadi ki baat nikli hai. Aur woh bhi aapne nikaali. Dekhna, ek ek din karke 20-25 saal itni jaldi beet jaayenge ki pata bhi nahin chalega Ruhi ki bidaai kab hogi.”
“OH HELLO?!” Raman yelled.
“Kya?!” Ishita jumped in her skin.
“Kya bidaai ki baate nikaali tumne?! Woh abhi bahot choti hai! Ruhi kam se kam 30 saal tak kahin nahin jaayegi apne papa ke ghar se.”
Ishita pressed her lips together and started shaking. Then she was laughing. In fact, she practically keeled over from fits of laughter.
“Raman,” she said, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye, “abhi to aap bada sympathy jataa rahe the Ruhi ke hone wale pati ke liye. Aur maine uski bidaai ke baare mein zaraa sa mention kiya to jo seedha Ravan ka krodh dhaaran kar liya aapne! Ab to mujhe bhi bura lag raha hai Ruhi ke hone wale pati ke liye. Usse aapse jo bhidna padega!”
“Bhidna padega?! Meri beti ki taraf koi aankh to utha ke dikhaye, uski haddiyaan tod dunga!”
“Shaant Ravan Kumar, shaant…” Ishita whispered. “Aapka BP badh jaayega.”
“Woh to waise bhi jab se tumse shaadi ki hai tabse aasman chu raha hai.”
“Raman, kya aap bhi,” she scolded him.
“Accha isse pehle ki main bhul jau, tumhe kuch waqt ke liye kal mere office aana padega. Kuch paperwork hai.”
“Mujhe? Mujhe kyun? Aap ke office ke kaam mein mujhe kya karna-”
“Arey phir se sawaal pe sawaal?! Jitna bola utna hota nahi kya tumse?”
“Nahin! Main to karungi sawaal! Kya karoge?”
“Kya karunga? Chup chaap jawaab dunga, aur kar bhi kya sakta hain aadmi? Office ka kaam nahin hain. Legal papers hai. Pathak ne bulaya hain. Isiliye tumhe aana padega. As my wife.”
“Kaunse papers?”
“Kal aa jaana to sab details pata chal jayenge.”
“Thik hai. Mere shaam ko patients waise bhi kam hai, to lagbhag 3 baje aaungi.”
“Great. Meherbani aapki.”
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Raman’s Office, Neil Pathak’s Cabin - the next day, Thursday, 3:15 pm
“Sab ready hai, Pathak?” Raman asked.
“Haa bhai. Saare documents yahin hain. Sirf aapki aur Ishita bhabhi ki sign chahiye. Waise, bhabhi kab tak aayenge?” Pathak turned his wrist and looked at the dial on his watch. “It’s 3:15 already. I have another meeting at 4.”
“Pata nahi kahan reh gayi Madrasan. Kal raat ko to usne kahan tha ki 3 baje aayegi. Ruk, main phone karta hoon.”
Raman dialed Ishita’s number. The ringtone of her phone sounded from the door of Pathak’s cabin. Ishita rushed through the door frame, still clad in her doctor’s coat, tendrils of hair coming loose from her braid.
“Sorry, sorry, mujhe late ho gaya,” she huffed, out of breath from her climb up the stairs. She walked in and took a seat beside her husband. “Mere last patient ke parents kuch zyada hi questions puch rahe the. Unke bete ko naye naye braces lage hain to use kaafi dard ho raha tha. Aur phir braces ke saath kya khaana chahiye, kya nahi khaana chahiye, use kaise clean karna aur maintain rakhna, us baare mein bahot questions the. To unke sab questions ke answer dene mein time lag gaya. Anyways, ab bataiye, mujhe kyun bulaya yahan par?”
She turned towards Raman expecting an answer, surprised to see her husband gawking at her. She snapped her fingers in his face. “Hello? Suna maine kya kaha? Chup kyun hai aap?”
Raman blinked awake and cleared his throat. What was happening to him? How could he -- the stony, level-headed CEO -- get so distracted? “M-main… main bas hairaan hoon, ki koi ek insaan itna kaise bol sakta hai? Tum shuru hoti ho to khatam hone ka naam hi nahin leti yaar. Aur…aur itna late kyun hua?”
“Abhi bataya to sahi! Phir se bolu?” she teased him.
“Arey nahi Madrasan! Meherbani karke phir se bolna shuru mat kar.” He folded his hands in surrender. “Mere kehne ka matlab hain ki agar late hone wala tha to message ya phone kar deti.”
“Main drive kar rahi thi, Raman. Drive karte karte phone kaise use karti? Aur main sirf 15 minute late aayi hoon. Thodi na-”
“Raman bhai! Ishita bhabhi!” Pathak interrupted. He had been amused with the exchange between his bhai-bhabhi. For the first time in his life, he had seen the no-nonsense, ruthless CEO Raman Bhalla this flustered. For the first time, he saw his brother unable to tear his gaze away from a woman. And it pleased him to no end that said woman was his bhabhi.
“Aap dono abhi ladiye mat,” he continued, “we need to get to work.”
“Gladly. Main to kab se puch hi rahi hoon ki mujhe yahan kyun bulaya,” Ishita muttered, gaining a side-eye from Raman.
Pathak ruffled through some papers in a red file on his desk and passed a document to Raman and Ishita across his desk.
“Bhabhi, this is a certificate of guardianship. I need both of you to sign it. I’ll explain,” he elaborated, seeing Ishita’s expression of confusion. “When you won Ruhi’s custody case, guardianship was transferred to Raman bhai as he was the biological father. By being married to him, you are considered Ruhi’s stepmother. But you have guardianship only by way of being married to Ruhi’s father. If your marriage ended or was rendered void for some reason, or if god forbid, something happened to Raman bhai and he was unable to care for Ruhi, then you wouldn’t automatically be next in line as Ruhi’s guardian. In order to prevent anything like that, you both need to sign this certificate of guardianship. This certificate will be proof that both of you are the legal guardians of Ruhi, regardless of your relationship, or lack thereof. If one of you were rendered incapacitated and were unable to care for Ruhi, full custody would be transferred to the other one.”
“So we just sign this paper, and you’ll submit a copy to the court as well?” Raman asked.
“Yes. I’ll keep one copy, one will be submitted to the judge, and you guys can keep the original,” Pathak answered.
As Raman and Ishita signed the certificate, Pathak couldn’t suppress his smile. Generating this certificate had been a process of two weeks. Raman had approached him two weeks ago and demanded that he drop all his work and figure out a way to make sure that Ishita would legally be Ruhi’s guardian regardless of her relationship with Raman. To quote his brother, ‘she deserved to be secure in her position as Ruhi’s parent without the fear of losing her because of a fragile marriage.’ Pathak didn’t know where this suddenly stemmed from, but he knew better than to ask. It seemed to be an issue between husband and wife. But the reason behind his smile was something entirely different. Because before he ended their conversation, Raman had given him a warning to not reveal that this was his idea. He had joked that if his wife found out that this was his idea, she might oppose it, being the hot-headed Jhansi ki Rani that she is. But Pathak knew his brother. It was so like him to do something this selfless for a loved one and never take credit.
“Here Pathak.” Raman handed the signed certificate back to Pathak. “Aur koi kaam hai?”
“No bhai. Nothing else. I’ll let you know if I need anything else. Thanks for coming in. Thanks bhabhi.”
“Okay Neil, thank you so much,” Ishita said, voice quivering from emotion. “This really means a lot. You have no idea.”
“Bhabhi, this is my job. Please don’t thank me.” You should thank Raman bhai.
“I’ll take your leave now.”
“Let me walk you out,” Raman said.
As Raman guided her out of Pathak’s cabin and to the exit of the office, Ishita struggled to keep the overwhelming emotion in her chest under control. She knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that this was Raman’s idea. There was no way Pathak could have been alluding to the exact same thing that she had discussed with Raman two weeks ago.
“Regardless of our relationship, Ruhi will always be your child first. Then mine.” -- Raman
“This certificate will be proof that both of you are the legal guardians of Ruhi, regardless of your relationship, or lack thereof.” -- Pathak
Getting this certificate now was too much of a coincidence. The only explanation was that Raman had asked Pathak to do this. He had made sure to get rid of her insecurity regarding losing Ruhi. She was her daughter. Everyone knew that and now, so did the law. But the main source of the balloon of emotion that swelled in her chest and clogged her throat was the fact that her husband took no credit for any of this. She saw now how he worked. Silently, quietly, doing one selfless deed after another without any expectation of praise or even credit. His words consisted of jokes and taunts; he was hardly a man of sweet nothings. But his actions were what made a real difference. She laughed at herself for ever thinking that this man could be anything other than selfless. And she was filled with wonder knowing that this man was her husband.
“Accha Ishita, abhi tum ghar hi jaaogi, right? Waapis clinic to nahin jaana?” Raman asked. They had reached the exit to his office.
Ishita blinked her eyes and stopped the emotion from welling. “N-nahin… mujhe clinic nahin jaana waapis. I’ll just stop by the supermarket on my way home. Do you need anything?”
“Get me a can of shaving cream and men’s hair gel.”
“Okay.”
“All right then, I’m going back to my desk. See you at home.”
Raman turned around, but was stopped by Ishita gripping his wrist.
“Kya hua?” he asked her. “Ishita?” Raman grew concerned, noticing the sheen of tears welling in his wife’s eyes.
But before Raman could understand what was going on, he found the wind knocked out of his lungs as Ishita wrapped her arms around him. He stood there frozen, limbs unmoving, as he comprehended the fact that his wife had just hugged him.
“Thank you Raman. For doing this. I know you won’t admit it, but I’m sure this is your doing.” The tears from her eyes soaked the sleeve of his shirt. “And you have no idea how much this means to me. I…this… just thank you. Thank you so much,” Ishita sniffed, having decided against suppressing the ball of emotion in her chest.
She slowly withdrew her arms from the embrace and unraveled herself. Raman still stood there, a statue with an unreadable expression.
“Main chalti hoon. Ghar pe milte hain.” Ishita tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and left.
………………………………………………………………………………………………………
The wind whistled in Raman’s ear, his feet glued to the floor. About a 100 billion neurons in his brain screamed at him to move, that he was still in his office surrounded by staff who feared him, looked up to him, staff who shouldn’t be seeing their boss this flustered and unnerved by a hug from his wife. The logical side of mind kicked into gear and freed his legs from paralysis, high tailing him to his cabin. He locked the door shut and dropped into his chair, finally letting air into his lungs. Ishita just hugged him. Like for real, wrapped her arms around him, pressed her face into his shoulder, hugged him. His eyelids fluttered shut, and the corners of his lips tugged upwards, as he replayed the moment in his head over and over again. His wife hugged him. And all he could do was stand there like an idiot. He cursed himself for his inaction. For not hugging her back. For not wiping the tears from her eyes or rubbing her back or soothing her in any way. They were tears of happiness, yes, but any kind of tears from her eyes unnerved him.
He hadn’t meant for her to get so emotional, so overwhelmed. All he wanted was for her to stop fearing that she could lose her daughter, ever.
“I already lost Ruhi once before we got married. I couldn’t face it again.”
Ishita’s words from two weeks ago had been churning in his head which had led him to ask Pathak for a solution. It pained him to no end that this maddening, marvelous woman could ever have any kind of fear weighing down on her. And the fear of losing her daughter? Never, not on his watch. He knew first hand the pain of being separated from one’s own child. But he could not have predicted that she’d get so overwhelmed with emotion that she’d throw her arms around him. And never in a million years could he have predicted that she’d figure out that all this was his idea. He had meant for this to happen without bashing in any limelight. It was the biggest paradox of his life. He might be a sauve, confident CEO and business owner in the most elitist business circles of the country, but deep down, he was still the sweet, shy boy that his mother raised him to be. Even today, praise and applause and compliments made him uncomfortable. He operated with one of two motives: duty or desire. It was his duty to take care of his parents, provide facilities for his siblings, and secure a bright future for his kids. It was his desire to earn money, make his business the best, and have his name outshine his competitors. And he neither wanted nor expected praise for either. It was a true testament to his wife’s empathic accuracy that she could tell everything was his doing. Her appreciation and joy over something she hadn’t even asked knew no bounds. And although it wasn’t his motivation, Ishita’s appreciation meant the world to him.
He chuckled at the cold, cruel joke that life had played on him. There was a time when a woman in his life had demands he couldn’t fulfill no matter how hard he tried. When said woman gave no indication of gratefulness regardless of anything he did for her. And now, he had a woman who asked for nothing when he could literally buy her anything she wanted. In that moment, he learned that he would do anything for Ishita’s appreciation, even without her asking. Especially without her asking.
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Iyer House - two days later, Saturday, November 16th, 9 am
“Appa, ab toh batao yeh ‘family meeting’ kyun bulayi hai?” Vandu asked. “Kab se suspense create kiya hain aap sab ne…”
The Iyers’ living room was packed with the Bhallas and Iyers alike. Both sets of parents were settled on the sofa, and Vandu and Bala sat in the loveseat. The rest of the family -- Ishita, Raman, Romi, Rinki, Mihir, Mihika -- surrounded them, standing or sitting in various chairs. Vishwa and Omprakash had asked everyone to gather in the Iyer house this morning for an important announcement, and the suspense was itch-worthy.
“Maa-papa, aap log to kuch bolo?” Raman asked his parents.
“Accha, accha, shaant ho jaao sab. Hum bataate hain.” Omprakash conceded. “Iyer saab, aap boliye.”
“Thik hai Bhalla ji,” Vishwa began. “Suniye sab. Hum sab badon ne milkar kuch baat ki hain, aur ek faisla liya hai. Aur… hum aap sab ki raay sunna chahenge.”
“Appa, koi pareshaani ki baat to nahi hain na? Is everything okay?” Ishita asked.
“Yes Ishu, everything is okay,” he continued. “Actually… we’ve been thinking for a while now… and now that we’ve talked with the kids too… We think it’s time that… It's time for us to plan Mihir and Mihika’s wedding. Aap sab ki kya raay hai?”
Smiles broke out across faces all around. A rose blush bloomed on Mihika’s cheeks and Mihir flashed his teeth.
“Periappa!” Mihir leapt from his seat and landed right in front of Vishwa. “Main to kab se isse keh raha hoon ki hum log shaadi kar lete hain, shaadi kar lete hain, par madam ko apni career se fursat mile, tab na? Meri to 100% haan hain! It’s an absolute yes!” he beamed and turned towards Mihika. “Miku, what do you say?”
Ishita and Vandu had herded themselves to their sister, who was having a hard time controlling the scarlet flush rising in her cheeks.
“Arey, ab main kya bolu? Tum bhi na! Ekdum buddhu ke buddhu rahoge!” The smile on Mihika’s face and her playful tone contradicted her scolding words.
“Akka, look!” Ishita shook Vandu’s arm. “Miku is blushing!”
“Oh my god! Humari behen to gayi!” Vandu squealed. They never, ever saw their headstrong sister this flustered.
“Miku?!” Mihir interrupted. “Ishita bhabhi, Vandu akka, ab main iska kya matlab samjhoo?”
“Offo buddhu!” Mihika sighed. “Meri haan hain! Periamma aur amma se meri baat ho gayi thi. Ab career growth to shaadi ke baad bhi ho sakta hain. So… I guess it’s time to get married… I’m ready,” she whispered with shy, downcast eyes.
Hoots of laughter, congratulatory hugs, and smiles erupted all around.
“Lekin haan!” Mihika warned. “Shaadi puri Tamilian reeti-riwaz se hogi. I’m telling you, Mihir!”
“Tumhari saari sharte manzoor hain madam!” Mihir skipped across the room and hugged his to-be-wife.
The lovebirds were soon separated as everyone began taking turns to congratulate them.
“Dekh lo Bala, yeh bhi ho gaya shaheed.” Raman swiped his thumb across his throat, earning a chuckle from Bala. “Mihir! Beta, ab tujhe bhi madrasan biwi milegi, woh bhi Iyer khandaan ki. Ab tujhe pata chalega, dard ka matlab kya hota hai.”
“Kya bhai, aap bhi. Daraa rahe ho bacche ko,” Mihir mumbled.
The vibrating tone of his phone distracted Raman from his merciless teasing of Mihir.
“Ek minute, main aaya.”
Raman pulled his phone out of his pocket on his way to the balcony. The name flashing on his screen ruined his spirit and soured his mood. Shagun.
“Kya hua Raman?”
He turned around to see that Ishita had turned up behind him on the balcony.
“Aap sab se door yahan aa kyun gaye?” she asked.
Raman showed her the screen of his phone. “Shagun’s calling me. After two weeks of radio silence. Pata nahi kya chal raha is aurat ke dimaag mein!” he scowled.
“Phone uthaake dekhiye na? Tabhi to pata chalega.”
“Nahi, abhi nahi. Abhi sab itne khush hai, to apna mood kharab nahi karte. Baad mein shaam ko akele mein baat karenge. I just hope ki Adi…”
“Adi thik hi hoga. Aap chinta mat kijiye. Chaliye. Mihir aur Mihika ki sagaai aur roka ki baat ho rahi hain.”
“Chalo.”
Raman pocketed his phone and followed his wife to join their family’s celebrations, trying to ignore the anxiety looming in the back of his head.
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Bhalla House, Raman & Ishita’s bedroom - 11 pm
“Don’t worry Soumya Chitti,” Ishita paced back and forth with her phone pressed to her ear. “Arey hum sab sambhaal lenge… Nahi, abhi tak shaadi ki tareekh to nahi nikaali hai… Haan, jab aapko agle saal chutthi milegi, tab shaadi ki taiyyari karenge. Aap bas apni availability bata dijiyega…”
The door creaked open and Ishita glanced sideways to see her husband walk in. He was fresh out of the shower, with wet hair and a towel hung over his shoulders.
“Yes Chitti,” she continued on the phone. “Haan, Amma-Appa bhi yahin keh rahe the. Sagaai aur roka jald se jald ek choti si ceremony mein karte hain, phir shaadi baad mein dhoom-dhaam se hogi… Hum soch rahe the ki sagaai agle mahine December mein rakhenge. Sab ko holidays honge na…Haan… Aur agar aap bhi aa sake to aur bhi accha hoga… Jee Chitti… Okay, to phir baad mein baat karte hain. Bye. Good night.”
“Tumhari baat kitni lambi chali, Madrasan? Ek shaadi plan kar rahi ho ya sau?” Raman teased, as he ruffled his wet hair with his towel.
“Soumya Chitti se itne dino baad baat ho rahi thi, aur upar se Mihika ki shaadi ki baat, to obviously baat lambi hi chalegi na?” Ishita countered.
“Haan phir bhi… maine Ruhi ko sula diya aur phir main khud naah ke aaya, and you were still on the phone…”
“Ab kya kare,” Ishita drawled and crossed her arms. “Shaadi ka ghar hai. Ab toh na baatein kam padegi aur na kaam.”
Raman chuckled and dropped his towel on the chair. “Mujhe to abhi bhi yakin nahin ho raha. Mihir ki shaadi. It’s unbelievable. School-college jaata baccha tha jab main usse mila tha-”
“Raman!” Ishita dropped her phone on the table and marched to the dresser where her husband stood.
“Kya hua?! Phir se koi dimaag ka dohra pada kya?” he asked, irked at being interrupted so loudly.
Ishita pinched the wet towel on the chair and lifted it with a finger and thumb. “Yeh koi jagah hai geela taulya rakhne ki?”
“Do minute towel yahan rakh diya to koi aasmaan nahi toot padega, Jhansi ki Rani.”
“Raman, yeh chair dekhiye, iske cushions dekhiye, agar yeh geele ho gaye to kharaab ho jaayenge. Aur geela towel do minute ke liye bhi rakho na tab bhi-”
Raman’s phone rang and broke the argument. Raman got an out and took it. While he looked for his phone, Ishita sighed and hung the towel to dry herself. When she returned to their room, she found Raman sitting on the couch and staring at his still ringing phone.
“Answer it, Raman. Kya hua?” she asked.
“It’s Shagun again,” he sighed. Ishita’s spine snapped straight. “Tum aao yahan,” he called her. “Sit here.” He nodded at the empty spot beside him.
Even as she picked up on the hint of vulnerability in his voice, Ishita appreciated his effort to include her. She joined him on the couch as he accepted the call and put it on speaker phone.
“Raman, I’ve been calling you all day. Where the hell have you been?” Shagun’s shrill voice sounded from the phone.
“Kya kaam hai Shagun?” Raman asked, trying his best to keep his voice even.
“Wow, straight to the point, huh? You don’t even have time to ask how I am, now?”
“Kya kaam hai?” Raman repeated his question.
“Fine. I… I needed some money,” she conceded.
Raman and Ishita looked at each other. Was she playing another game?
“What do you need money for?” Raman asked.
“Who do you think you are Raman? My accountant? Or my mother? Mujhse rupiye-rupiye ka hisaab maangoge?”
“Agar mere paise maangogi to mujhe jaanne ka haq hai ki tumhe kis liye chahiye.”
“I need the money for Adi. He needs some things.”
“What does he need? I’ll buy whatever he needs and bring it for him.” Raman suggested, hoping to use it as an excuse to meet his son.
“You don’t have to do this Raman. Just transfer the money to me.”
“Shagun, I’m not giving you money directly. It’s too messy. We’re just not that close anymore. Just tell me what Adi needs, and I’ll get it for him. I’m his father after all.”
“He’s my son, Raman. Tum uspe apna zyada haq jataane ki koshish mat karo. And if you’re not giving me money, then… you can’t meet Adi,” Shagun sneered, barely hiding her rage.
Ishita’s eyes widened in shock, but Raman had anticipated a move like this. He knew how to play.
“Shagun, don’t forget. You’re the one who wanted to hide the fact that you took money from me to pay Adi’s school fees, right? You wouldn’t want anyone to find out that you had to borrow money from the ex that you dumped?” he insinuated.
“Oh please Raman. Don’t act oversmart. You can tell anyone you want. All it would prove is that you paid for Adi's school fees. So what? You’re Adi’s father, right? It’s no big deal.”
“Shagun-”
“We’re done here, Raman. Ab Adi se milne ke baare mein bhul hi jaao. Bye.”
“Wait Sha-”
The call ended. Silence. Ishita glanced warily at her husband who stared at his phone with a storm brewing in his eyes.
And then he exploded. Raman stood and threw his phone onto a pillow and kicked the corner of the bed, punching his fists in the air.
“Kya karun main is aurat ka?!” he yelled. “How dare she?! Jo man mein aaye karti hai, bina soche ki uski harkaton ka kisi aur pe kya asar hoga…”
He began pacing back and forth to work off his rage. Ishita stood up to face him, struggling to find the right words to say.
“Aur kisi ke liye na sahi, Adi ke liye bhi nahi sochti yeh aurat…” Raman released a shaky breath and sunk onto the bed. “Mushkil se ek ummeed mili thi Adi se milne ke liye…” he trembled.
“Raman…” The quiver in her husband’s voice sprung Ishita into action. She hurried over to the bed and sat beside him. “Raman, please himmat mat haariye. Hum koi raasta dhoond lenge.”
“Kaise? Shagun to mujhe Adi se milne degi nahi. Doosra kya tarika hai?”
Ishita held Raman’s chin with her thumb and forefinger and turned his head towards her. “Raman, look at me. First, take a deep breath. In-” she inhaled, prompting Raman to do the same, “-and out.” They both released a deep breath. “Now listen. We always knew that reconnecting with Adi was going to be a difficult journey, right? Sirf ek baar try karne se humein Adi mil jaayega yeh zaroori to nahi? We’ve only tried once. We’ll try again.”
“Ishita… Adi means so much to me,” Raman looked away and whispered, “You know, when Adi lived with us, he spent most of his time with me. Shagun was mostly involved in herself. She liked to sleep in and go out a lot. So I used to get Adi ready in the morning. Then in the afternoon I used to come home for lunch, and we had lunch together. In the evening we had dinner together and I used to spend all my time with him, playing with him, teaching him the alphabet and arithmetic and other things… You know, every weekend, I used to go with him to the park with Romi and Mihir, and we taught him football. Itne chote chote pairon se woh ball ko kick karta tha, aur hum teeno uchal padte the.” Raman laughed fondly at his precious memories.
“Adi ke saath banayi huyi har yaad mere dimaag mein aisi chhapi huyi hai jaise kal ki hi baat ho. Mujhe itni khushi aur itna garv kabhi mehsoos nahi hua jitna Adi ka pita banke hua. Lekin…” Raman visibly shuddered.
“Lekin kya Raman?” Ishita prompted.
Raman blinked and continued. “During his custody case, my son sided with his mother… and it broke me… The judge asked him, ‘aapko mamma ke saath rehna zyada accha lagta hai, ya papa ke saath?’ And he said ‘mamma ke saath.’ Shagun used to shower him with expensive gifts and toys from Ashok which I couldn’t afford. And my son chose that over me. Humaari shaadi se pehle tum kehti thi na, ki main apni family ko chod ke paise ke peeche kyun bhaagta tha? Par jab mera apna beta mere pyaar ke badle paisa chune, to main bhi kya karta? Pyaar aur saadgi se apne bete ko bada karne ka nateeja to dekh chuka…”
“Raman,” Ishita placed her hand on his shoulder and rubbed her thumb on his collar bone. “Adi was a child then. Many times children gravitate towards their mothers. And there’s no reason behind it. It’s just… I guess it just comes down to simple biology, you know. But that doesn’t mean that there is no place for the father. Aap khud apne dil se puchiye, jab bhi aap Adi ke saath waqt bitaate the, to woh enjoy nahi karta tha? Woh aap ke prati koi pyaar nahi dikhata tha? Dikhata tha, na? Lekin utna hi pyaar use Shagun ke liye bhi hoga. After all, she is his mother. She showed her love through gifts, and you showed your love through quality time. He received love from both of you. It wasn’t a choice between love and money. It was a choice between mother and father. How could he have chosen just one parent?”
“But he did choose one parent, didn’t he? He chose Shagun.”
“He was put on the spot Raman. He might have felt pressured to give an answer. Maybe he didn’t even know the gravity of the question he was answering. You can’t blame him for that.”
“No Ishita, I’m not blaming him. Not at all. But… how could I not dwell on it? Now that I’m trying to reconnect with him, what if he shuns me again? What if he doesn’t want anything to do with me? What if-”
“Raman, calm down.” Ishita moved her hand from his shoulder to his back and rubbed gently. “Adi shaayad aapse gussa hoga, shaayad naaraz bhi hoga. Lekin uska apne pita ke liye pyaar kam nahi hoga. In fact, shaayad usi pyaar ki wajah se gussa aur naarazgi hogi. But I am sure he won’t shun you. It will take a while to get your relationship to the same way it was again, but it’s not impossible.”
Raman nodded weakly.
“Raman, look at me.” When Raman looked at Ishita, the raw agony in his eyes made her catch her breath in her lungs. She cleared her throat and continued. “Raman, abhi ke liye itna mat sochiye. Aap Diwali se Adi ko lekar tension le rahe hain. Just give this a rest for a few days. Let your brain relax, and we’ll revisit this with a fresh perspective after a few days. We’ll find another way to meet Adi, okay? We’ll keep trying until we find a way to meet him. And whatever happens, main hoon aapke saath. Humesha.”
Pal.. do pal.. ki hi kyun hai zindagi
Is pyar ko hai sadiyan kaafi nahin
To khuda se maang loon
Mohlat main ek nayi
Rehna hai bas yahan
Ab door tujh se jana nahin..
Jo tu mera humdard hai
Jo tu mera humdard hai
Suhana har dard hai..
Jo tu mera humdard hai
The resolve from his wife’s voice seeped through every crack in his visage and soothed him. Her hand rubbing on his back grounded him and calmed his racing heart. He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths, thankful for his wife’s presence. If it weren’t for her -- her patience, her courage, and her hope -- he would have begun his descent into a self-destructive spiral. He was dealing with the most painful part of his life -- his strained relationship with his son. It had been the source of five long years of misery. But when he looked at Ishita’s tender eyes and her kind-hearted smile, he knew those moments of torment would never return. He saw hope and light and life. Because no matter how hard life became, no matter what hardship fell on him, he wasn’t alone now. He wouldn’t be alone ever.
Teri muskuraahatein hain taakat meri
Mujhko inhi se ummeed mili
Chahe kare koi sitam yeh jahan..
Inmein hi hai sada hifazat meri
Zindghani badi khoobsurat huyi
Jannat ab aur kya hogi kahin
Jo tu mera humdard hai
Jo tu mera humdard hai
Suhana har dard hai...
Jo tu mera humdard hai
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7tElHNHLSKY
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Announcement:
Hey guys! I wanted to ask a few questions about my writing to get my readers’ feedback.
Is the story a good representation of the original show? Can you see the characters actually performing the scenes and saying the dialogues I write? I am especially having a hard time writing Raman’s taunts and quips without making him a callous prick.
Are you getting enough of both Ishita and Raman’s point of view? Are you able to understand in each scene what both of them are thinking and feeling?
Are you happy with how many side characters I am including in the scenes? Any characters you want to see more or less of?
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