"khushi"
"then love knew it was called love.
and when i lifted my eyes to your name,
suddenly your heart showed me my way."
~~~ pablo neruda ~~~
"khushi."
the first time ever he called out her name. in panic, scared, uncanny feeling of disaster creeping in. almost a prayer. and she opened her eyes. 27 became magical at that very moment amid all the rain, thunder, lightning, and collapsing scaffolding. he had quickly connected the dots and realised she was most probably stranded in the dilapidated building. in seconds he was in his suv, angry with sinha, rushing to find her, eyes gripped by worry, maybe a trace of guilt too. felt like the longest drive possibly, he screeched to a halt at the guesthouse, almost crashing into the building. he looked at the structure and his feet spoke before his mind did.
he ran.
inside only darkness and clutter, but no sign of life. when he picked up the bag and saw her phone, he knew she was around and alone. fear seized his senses. his eyes stilled, then lit up imagining perhaps the worst.
her name came surging out of him. a desperate call. then once more, decibel ascending. what had started the week before, that blinding awareness which wouldn't leave him alone, making him angry, mad at her... that seemed to add on an unnamed emotion. the man who had hollered "miss gupta!" that same morning, just let go of his inhibitions and called out to her, it seemed to me, from somewhere deep deep inside.
khushi... khushi. and a new journey began.
he found his way to her finally. when he forced open the door and looked at her huddled in a corner in the dark, he was beside himself with relief and tension, both filling him at once. a man of quick decisions and action, he knew there wasn't much time to lose, he went up to her and looked at her, then bent down catching hold of her hand, intent on taking her away to safety.
tear stained, mind fuzzy with all the terrible feelings of the day, first his screaming and harshly sending her away, then the horror of being trapped in a crumbling building, crying out for help while no one listened, she was beyond resistance or thought. or so it seemed.
he pulled her up in one urgent motion, she stood up as her loosened plait gave way and her hair opened. as he looked at her, her hair flew wild like the elements outside, framing her beautiful face, now storm tossed. a feeling of great force entered and permeated the scene. words from a very old song floated into my mind... kuch na kaho, kuch bhi na kaho... samay ka ye pal thamsa gaya hai... aur is pal mein koi nahin hai... bas ek main hoon... bas ek tum ho. yes it did seem like that. there was him and her, and nothing else in the whole wide universe. not even time.
he felt it. i wonder if she did. or maybe there was too much passion of another kind in her at the moment for this to register.
we cross infinity with every step
we meet eternity in every second
~~~ rabindranath tagore ~~~
they hurtled out of the room. and as he went ahead, she suddenly stopped. he knew something was coming. he tried to gather his composure, tell her he had no idea... but she was in no mood to listen.
at last. after all that. everything that had transpired between them from the day they met. all his insults, his cruel behaviour, his inexplicable insults, his everything.
at last it all got to her.
and a rage more fierce than the elements outside broke. khushi let arnav singh raizada have it. no mr arnav singh raizada, you listen to me. she rode into him, lacerating in her fury, how dare he, how dare he do this to her. not just a minor this or a little that, your whole life is based on a wrong foundation.
magnificent gussa. asr had met his match it seemed.
she pushed him when he tried to hold her, she shoved him with all her might. her anger poured its lethal torrent, wanting to do permanent damage. in the end, he knew he had to act, if not anything, to stop her tirade, calm her down. and yes, his temper wasn't exactly languishing silently, it was rising at every word, every push from her. he caught hold of her arms and held her, determined to have his way. without words if necessary.
"never be afraid of the moments - thus sings the voice of the everlasting."~~~ rabindranath tagore ~~~
starting last week, it has been about moments. that have more in them than words or script can describe. everything is getting more murmurous with flutters of unknown unspoken feelings, instincts, senses. the sixth sense is at work and more compelling than the other five. the subtext is rich, richer.
today, three such moments. her name on his lips; the two of them caught in a space beyond time; the kindling of something in her expressed in wild anger.
when he saw her in her saree, then saved her and held her in the rain, something in him changed. he resisted, in his typical way. with gussa. but knowing she was in imminent danger, and he had put her there even if without realising, something in him shattered more. and felt more. the winds knew it. maybe even she did. let's see what happens tomorrow.
................
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