"asr, tum theek ho na?"... "asr?"
"enough, khushi!" rough voice, end of tether. an uneasy silence. sorry, lavanya. the headache is splitting, and a girl's defiance is playing havoc into it. not letting you go. you can't get away, not this time. i'll say what i have to, you'll stay. every exit is denied. erotic blocking in an enclosed space. a hot sunday afternoon in a bothered storeroom. he had not been able to say what he wanted to. but today, he will.
speak, scream, shout, cry, "kyunki jab tak tum meri baat sun nahin leti yahan se hil nahin sakti. ghar par koi dikhai nahin de raha hai... woh issliye kyunki gharpar koi.. hai nahin." how he enjoyed telling her there's no one at home. no one.
"samjhi tum?" the decibel crashed the sound barrier.
do what you've come here to do, take your money and leave...and keep your ideas of marriage to yourself. do you understand, miss khushi kumari gupta?
she felt her blood race, her anger pulsate... not my idea. and she had to tell him all... everything, every little bit of it... even that he was scared, maybe because he couldn't keep such a commitment. you don't know how to do this in your kind of transactional relationships. in fact, i feel ... aapke character hi dheela hai. your character is loose.
could that ever go unpunished?
what was he doing? what?
no, this couldn't be happening...
"kissne kaha ki meri baat khatam ho gayi hai... kya kaha tumne... ki mera character dheela hai... main tumhe bata ta hoon ki character dheela kya hota hai." you say my character is loose, ok let me show you what character dheela means.
no!
his anger had spiralled again. and it would do serious damage.
finally, it got a bit too much for her. all the playing and running and getting caught and everything, things we are not asked to find words for, because then they just might lose their meaning. all of it... just a bit too much. how could this man do this to her? red hot feelings scalded everything it touched.
he had to let go.
hum abhi aate hain.
as she walks away to find a moment to restore calm, she stops and the tears come. he has left his mark on her arm.. rabba vey sweet and comforting... what is this intimacy, rough or tender, all of it is owned, all of it is part of self, all of it is a feeling. that you can't deny, destroy, diminish. some call it love, others just struggle to give it a name.
he stands outside, knowing she is inside, suffering, and he is filled with pain. har baar, every time, as he would tell her months later. he had to make her cry, but it had to hurt him more.
that instinctive yoking again. sees her face in candle light... hey hey...
"asr, jab tumne mujhe girte hue dekha tab meri help kyun nahin kari." why didn't he help his girlfriend? again
darkness tried to show him light.
why don't some hurts ever go away.
why can't some thoughts be stopped. maybe this time, it won't go all the way...
but no. it will, it must. maa!
he might have gone under today, had she not come, had she not reminded him with her presence of the safest place he'd ever known. children of the same mother. she knows his mind, its scream, it's suffocating submerged pain. the ocean has many things in it. sometimes all that floats up is dark and angry and deathly. and it wants to take you down.
he encircles her with his arms, sitting there, and buries his head, his face in her lap, hugging her, asking her for love and giving whatever he has to give.
"bas chhotey bas."
"di wo..."
"kuchh mat kaho" tear soaked voice, drenched in the sorrow of a love that went too soon too soon... "di, kuch kaam tha kya."
was this an untrained bpo exec turned actor in a tackily produced telly serial? then why was i listening to his every heartbeat, every nuance of voice, tears threatening to pour out of my eyes. old age is really getting the better of me.
every year when this date comes close, you miss mama papa a lot... you really remember them... a beautiful loving sister sensitive to his feelings... mostly. but he can't indulge in this for too long. himmat dikhai maine. pulled himself up by the bootstraps at 14, now he does it as a matter of course... it's become his way... main theek hoon, di. just for a moment asr had become a little boy whose hurting never ended. but now he is okay.
everybody hurts, everybody cries, sometimes.
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