Always and Forever
Part - 2: The Language of Touch

The weather was colder than last year. Winter was settling in, creeping up as slowly as a snail, but as surely as the winning tortoise. The tubelight flickered onn, eliminating the shadows, Sameer shivered slightly as he stepped into the cold room. He stretched his arms, the kurta shifting over his muscles, he wondered how he was going to sleep tonight. Naina had winked at him. If he hadn’t been in a room full of people, he would have thought he was dreaming, his Naina never flirted. But he couldn’t ignore it, it was real, there were people surrounding him, and he had also broken Taiji’s precious cup, so it must have been true. Some of the cold was eliminated by the warmth rising in his body, it did seem to be the perfect time to introduce Naina to some other aspects of love, his lips curved in a smile as he thought of the first plan.

The sudden noise of the door banging open caught his attention, and he whirled to see Munna and Pandit rushing in, they were dancing, and imitating shehnai sounds, their hands curved holding the imaginary musical instrument. Sameer laughed at their antics.

“Aaj mere yaar ki shaadi hai… aaj mere yaar ki shaadi hai…”, they sang dancing around him.

“Arey shaadi nai… aaj to Roka hua sirf”, Sameer clarified, still laughing.

They stopped dancing for a moment, “haan to… hum to aaj se roz yeh gaana gayenge”, and they pulled him in their dance.

Rohan stood at the door, leaning his shoulder against the frame, watching the three of them dancing, a big grin on his face. He was extremely happy for Sameer, he had met Naina a lot of times now, and he knew she was a kind-hearted, friendly, caring person, and she loved his bhai a lot. Plus, she had a very interesting and beautiful sister. The trio in the room had shifted their dance onto the bed now.

“Bhai, kya kar rahe ho? Gir jaoge”, Rohan stepped inside, slightly worried and immensely amused to see his famous business tycoon brother jumping on the bed. It was after many years that he was seeing this craziness again, he had seen it when Sameer was in Delhi, then again when on his Ahmedabad trip during college, but after that he had thought his brother had grown up, and now it seemed like he hadn’t, he just didn’t know about it.

“Kuch nai hoga. Tu bhi aaja yaar”, Pandit invited him graciously.

“Haan, aana Rohan”, Sameer added, while they continued jumping.

Rohan was tempted, he took a step forward, then stopped, his years of discipline holding him back. He imagined Dadi’s reaction on seeing him jumping on bed, and he debated whether to give it a try or not, after all Dadi wasn’t here. Sameer called him again, and he finally decided to let go of some parts of his discipline, just like he had given up the timetable. But just as he took another step towards the bed, it creaked and groaned, and one end sagged, the wood splintering, the mattress sank in, and the trio on bed fell on top of each other like dominoes. Rohan stood shocked for a minute, then rushed forward to help them, “Bhai! Haath do.” Sameer grabbed his extended hand, but instead of getting up, he pulled Rohan, who stumbled and fell right on top of him. His additional weight was too much for whatever was left of the bed, and the other end also caved in, the whole frame came down crashing. The four looked at each other, realizing what had happened, and they erupted in peals of laughter.

The gleeful howls brought Vishakha and Mr. Somani running into the room, they almost skidded to a halt at the sight in-front of them. Mr. Somani had a shocked expression on his face, while Vishakha looked like she was barely controlling her laughter. Somehow, after several moments of struggling, weaving through the tangle of legs and arms, and with Vishakha’s help, the four emerged out of the wreckage. Rohan had a guilty expression on his face, “Sorry Mumma.” Vishakha laughed softly, “It’s alright. But now we have to think where will Sameer sleep.”

“Guestroom”, Sameer declared. “Aur hum log bhi wahin soyenge apne yaar ke saath”, Munna added.

“No no, it’s your home. You cannot sleep in guestroom”, Vishakha shook her head, “Rohan so jayega wahan. Ya fir main aur tumhare papa”, she offered glancing at Mr. Somani.

Sameer took her hand, “No need Mummy. Aap hi ne kaha na mera ghar hai. To fir main kahin bhi sou kya fark padta hai. Waise bhi kal aap logo ki flight hai, ek raat ki hi to baat hai. Fir jab tak naya bed nai aata main Rohan wale room me shift ho jaunga.”

“Tum log jao main change karke aata hun”, Sameer added nodding to Munna and Pandit.

When Sameer entered the guestroom, Munna and Pandit were as usual fighting over which side of bed they would sleep. Sameer glanced at the bed, recalling his nightly adventures with the pillow, “main koi bhi side so jaunga, lekin beech me nai”, he blurted. He didn’t think either of his friends would let it go if he suddenly hugged them in the middle of the night. Finally, owing to the fact that it was a special day for Sameer, he was allowed to sleep on the right side. Just as Sameer was about to turn off the lights, Rohan stepped in, armed with a pillow, “Bhai ko aajkal pillow ke bina neend nai aati”, he explained to the confused Munna and Pandit, while Sameer tried to control the blush creeping up on his face.

“What? You thought I wouldn’t notice?”, Rohan asked in hushed tones.

“I think you are noticing a little too much. Maybe I should set a new timetable for you”, Sameer muttered.

“Naina, tera phone hai”, Bela hollered. Naina stretched and rotated her shoulders, she had been hunched over the desk, editing the draft of her latest story, it was to be submitted today. Sameer had coaxed her into writing for magazines, and kids’ books, before she wrote a full-fledged story of her own, it would give her experience and recognition he had said. So, since the last one year she had been writing short stories, essays, articles, and she realized Sameer was right. There was so much to it than just spinning a tale, of course that was the beginning, the base, but the additional aspects were new to her, she had learned to re-read and edit her own words, analyse it from reader’s perspective, take into account the demographics that would be reading her story. “Kiska phone hai Chachiji?”, she sauntered out of her room.

“Damadji ka… mera matlab Sameer ka”, Chachiji replied while preparing breakfast.

Naina picked up the receiver, “Hello.”

“Good Morning sweetheart”, a deep cheerful voice rang in her ears.

She almost dropped the receiver, “wh… what did you call me?”

At the other end Sameer bit his lip, he could clearly visualize the expression on Naina’s face. It had been a week since their Roka, and he had been busy wrapping up a few deals, but he had called her every day, and even landed uninvited for lunch at her home twice. Naina had been delighted by the way he had sweet-talked every single member of her family, even seeking permission to take her out for meeting some probable publishers later when he could, or for helping him in wedding preparations. He had cleverly presented the fact that his family didn’t stay with him, using it as a leverage to convince her family that he needed Naina’s help, after all it was their wedding. He had also been smart enough to give some legal work to Tauji, not a lot, but just enough to keep the carrot dangling in front of him. Her father was still clueless about how to react to him, but thankfully he hadn’t interrupted. Chachaji and Chachiji trusted Naina, and now him too, and he had insisted they call him Sameer, not Damadji, it felt proper as if he was their son, and this wasn’t a trick, he had meant it, they had been completely charmed. It was crucial that her family didn’t interrupt his plans.

The stage was set. Now it was time for the play to begin.

“What’s wrong? Did you think I will keep calling you Naina always?”, Sameer asked innocently.

Naina didn’t know how to react to that, “why are you calling so early?”, she asked skirting around his question.

Sameer smirked, knowing what she was doing, he let it go, “I just called to ask you out. A date. Will you come with me?”

Naina’s heart missed a beat, “A date?”

“Yes, I realized we never fulfilled that tradition in all these years, unless you count me getting slapped with cow’s tail at the temple. So, I thought maybe we can do it now”, he explained his voice calm.

Naina still didn’t know what to say, “do you mean going out for lunch?”

“Hmm… something like that. But not lunch. A movie at 4pm, then an early dinner”, he said, then strategically added, “you also have to submit your story draft today, right? How about I pick you up at 2:30pm?”

Her head revolved, yet she felt a warmth at his words, even in all his work and meetings, he remembered her story submission date. “Uhh… Okay”, she found herself accepting.

“Good. Wear jeans”, he instructed quickly, “now give the phone to Chachaji.”

He spoke to Chachaji, seeking permission, while Naina stood wondering, how exactly did he charm her into it. A date? How was she supposed to behave on a date? She had known Sameer since so long, that sharing a meal with him was not a problem. But dinner in a restaurant? A movie? She tried to concentrate on her story, but her mind kept wandering to movies. Did Salman take Bhagyashree out on a date in Maine Pyaar Kiya? They went boating, singing and dancing in park – was that a date? Or could Salman and Madhuri’s jeep ride in Hum Aapke Hai Koun be called a date?

Preeti squealed in delight when Naina told her about Sameer’s plan. “Tu badi lucky hai yaar. Pooja didi ko to bahar nikalne ki tak permission nai thi”, she twirled Naina, “par mere jijaji hai hi itne smart ke jo woh chahte woh kar hi lete hai.” She helped Naina select what to wear. Sameer had asked her to wear jeans, so she chose a deep red kurti to go with her blue jeans. Exactly at noon, there was a knock on the door and Naina opened it to see a man standing with a bouquet in his hands, “Kisse milna hai?”

“Ms. Naina Agarwal ke liye flowers ki delivery hai”, he explained.

Confused, Naina took the flowers, and signed on the slip. As usual, Taiji always had eyes on what was happening in her devrani’s home. She came over before Naina could close the door, “Oh bai! Bela dekh zara. Ab tere ghar me gulaab bhi aane lage hai”, she stared at the flowers, “kiske liye hai?”

“Mere liye. Sameer ne bheje hai”, Naina said reading the name on the small card attached to the bouquet.

Naina looked at the roses, she hadn’t seen a bouquet like this before, usually bouquets had flowers of one or two colours, but this one didn’t have dozen red or two dozen pink. Instead, it had one long-stemmed sample of every colour she had ever seen, from the purest white to the deepest red, and all the pinks and golds in between. Charmed, she lowered her face to draw in their scent. Heady. Roses were always heady, lush and unashamedly sensual. She opened the card and read, ‘For our first date. I don’t know what is your favourite colour yet, but I do know that every colour in my life is because of you. Your Sameer.’

She blushed, struggling to control the blooming smile on her face. “Kya likha hai bholuram ne?”, Taiji enquired.

“Bhagwaan jhuth na bulaye bhabhiji, yeh aapko kyun jaan na hai? Sameer ne jo bhi likha hai woh to Naina ke liye hai na”, Bela asked, then added immediately, “waise bhi achcha hua aap aa gai yahin, main na aapko bulane wali thi, aaj maine ‘ragda-petish’ banaya hai, aap khake jaiye.”

“Oh bai! Mereko nai khana tere haath ka yeh ulta pulta videshi khana”, Taiji scurried away quickly in fear.

Bela laughed, “chalo yeh to gai, ab mereko bata kya likha hai Sameer ne?”

Naina blushed again but laughed at her Chachiji’s wit, “hum pehli baar bahar jaa rahe hai na isiliye bheja hai”, she didn’t share details, “aur haan… petish nai patties.”

“Maine wahi to kaha. Petish”, Chachiji said confused.

Sharp at 2:30pm Sameer was standing at the door of Naina’s home, dressed in a black trousers and blue shirt, the sleeves rolled up, he looked cool, but inside he was probably as nervous as Naina. However, the jitters in his belly didn’t stop him from scanning her head-to-toe, the red colour drew him, packed an immediate punch. Her hair was pulled back and secured with a clip, simple pearl studs sat on her ears, her eyes were lined with kajal. No make-up glistened, no gold flashed, no diamonds winked, she didn’t need them, he thought. A woman who could look like that in simple jeans and kurti, didn’t need any artifice to draw attention.

As soon as they were seated in the car, Sameer reached back and snapped open the offending pin, letting her hair tumble down over his hand. The action was so quick that Naina didn’t have time to understand what he meant to do until he had done it, she turned to look at him, her eyes wide. Sameer didn’t pay much attention, or so she thought, he immediately took the steering wheel, manoeuvring the car on the road, “leave it open, it looks better”, he said shortly without looking at her. He knew exactly what he was doing, but he also knew that if he paid much attention to her now, she might sense something. Truth was, his senses had gone haywire when her hair had skimmed his hand, he wanted to pull her to him, fist his hands in that mass of black hair, while he kissed her. He was grabbing the steering wheel a little too tight, ruthlessly trying to bring himself under control, he slipped on his sun-glasses, preventing her from seeing the expression in his eyes.

He had calmed down by the time they exited the magazine office after submitting her story. He could see that she was getting better and better, not just in writing, but also in talking with the editors or any member of the magazine teams. She had also started to understand the technical jargons of publishing world, and discussed about indents, typos, above the fold, below the fold, headings, page placement. Maybe it was time she started on her first story now, thought Sameer feeling proud of her. The film he had chosen had released a couple of weeks back, Yash Chopra’s musical romance, Dil To Pagal Hai, the movie was good, but most of the time his entire attention was focused on Naina, her face exuded emotions as if she was herself feeling everything that was shown on-screen. During interval, he bought cream rolls for them, and laughed at her delighted expression. With just an hour of movie left, he slowly took her hand, linking their fingers, he didn’t look at her, but he knew she had torn off her eyes from the screen and was staring at him, her fingers were still lax. Finally, after a minute, he felt her fold her fingers hesitantly, gripping his hand. He relaxed, breathing out, this was the first time he had held her hand in public, and he was glad she had let him. They sat till the end of the credits, drawing out the time, until he would have to leave her hand.

Much to her pleasure, he took her to a restaurant that served pizzas, she had tried it only once before and had been delighted with the gooey-stretchy texture of cheese, and the spicy-tangy taste. It was a high-end restaurant, and Sameer had taken care to reserve a table for them, a booth, away from the prying eyes, he wanted her to relax, any nervousness she felt should only be caused by him, not by anyone else. He placed the order, adding extra cheese, and a couple of cold-drinks to go along with it. Once the server left, he eased into the cushion, removing his shoes, extending his legs out, grazing one foot along her leg. She jerked, looking at him, but he had his eyes closed, an exhausted expression on his face. He combed his fingers through his hair, opened his eyes, “I am so tired. You know, I had four meetings this morning before I came to pick you up.”

She decided the touch wasn’t intentional. He really looked tired.

“We could have done this some other day. You need rest”, she said sympathetically, feeling slightly ashamed that she had thought he was flirting.

He grinned, “meeting you is more effective than sleep”, she blushed, “did you like the flowers?”, he asked diverting her once more.

“Yes, they are beautiful, thank you”, she smiled, “though Taiji wanted to know what you had written in the card.”

He laughed, the sound making her skin tingle, “what did you say?”

His foot grazed her again, “no…nothing”, she stammered, “Chachiji and her ragda-patties saved the day.”

“That’s good”, he straightened slightly as the server placed their order on the table and devoted himself to liberally sprinkle spices on the pizza, perfectly aware of the effect he was having on Naina.

“Grab on”, he said picking up his cold-drink, “oh by the way, I think its time you start writing your first book.”

Naina stopped herself from taking the first bite of the slice she had picked up, “really? You think I am ready?”, she asked hopeful.

“Sweetheart, you were always ready. I just wanted you to have some confidence and experience before you started on our dream”, he gazed at her lovingly, picking up his own slice.

He heart fluttered at the endearment, she had heard it on phone, but now he was sitting in-front of her, she could see the expression in his eyes, the curve of his lips as he called her sweetheart. She tried not to think about it, focusing instead on the spicy flavour and crisp vegetables. This time when his foot touched her, she controlled her reaction, and she was sure this one was intentional.

She didn’t know however, that he wanted her to know.

“Mummy called me yesterday. She told me that I need to buy new furniture for home, like a new bigger wardrobe”, he kept on talking, letting her ponder over his touch, “anyways I have to buy a new bed, so maybe it’s a good idea to replace some other pieces as well. I want you to come and take a look at what you want?”

Naina was surprised, yet what he said made total sense. She was more confused about the foot. Was he doing it intentionally? She decided to check, not knowing that this was exactly what Sameer intended her to do. He knew she was like a curious cat.

“Why do you want to replace pieces? Just buy a new bed and wardrobe, that should be enough, right?”, she asked, cautiously extending her foot and touching his leg. It was a fleeting touch, she pulled back immediately, observing Sameer.

He was elated, but kept his expressions neutral, “Naina, most of the furniture is very old. If I am investing behind new pieces, it makes sense to check and change whatever is needed. It would be better cost-wise too”, he explained, “plus, there has been no woman staying in that house, so you need to tell me what you need, like I guess you would need a proper dressing table.”

Naina tried to divide her brain in two parts, one focusing on his conversation, another focusing on finding out if he was flirting or not. She wasn’t sure why she was so determined to find out.

She touched his leg again, this time lingering over his calf, for full thirty seconds, “hmm… that makes sense”, she absent-mindedly licked some sauce from her thumb.

The touch on leg was forgotten, Sameer’s attention focused on this new action, her tongue flicking around her thumb, everything inside him tensed, “yes it does”, he said tersely. This was just his first plan, and she was already driving him mad with her unassuming sensuousness, how was he going to survive till their wedding. He somehow managed to control himself, not letting anything show on his face, “Do you want to eat ice-cream?”

“Why not?”, she grinned picking up the last slice, offering him, but he shook his head.

He didn’t need food. He needed her. Dammit.

He watched her bite into it, the stringy cheese extending as she pulled back the slice, she loved testing how much she could stretch it. The string snapped, dripping from her lips to her chin, but before she could pull it in her mouth, Sameer extended his hand, and picked it off her lips, his fingertip trailing along her lower lip. He curled the string around his finger, then gazing into her eyes, he sucked it into his own mouth. Her eyes widened, her belly clenched unexpectedly, a shiver ran down her spine at the look in his eyes. She wasn’t exactly sure what she was feeling, but she had quite often felt like this around him. He smiled, letting her see the heat in his eyes, as he stared at her lips. She swallowed, “umm… maybe I don’t want the ice-cream anymore”, she said, not sure if she should sit in this restaurant with him much longer. She was suddenly feeling very warm, and the pitter-patter of her heart wasn’t calming down, there was a fluttering in her belly, making her feel there was something wrong with the pizza she had just eaten.

Sameer took his gaze off her, this was enough for now, “we aren’t eating ice-cream here. I thought we will have kulfi outside”, he signalled for the bill.

She relaxed, fractionally, outside was better, there will be people around them.

The kulfi stall was not far from her home, and there were lots of people around them, she should be happy now. But she wasn’t. She realized that the beautiful evening was coming to an end. The seclusion in the restaurant had made her anxious, but the crowd was annoying her. He looked at the small frown on her face, and his own lips curved in satisfaction. This was exactly what he had wanted, to make her crave for more private moments, if she wasn’t comfortable with him at times when they were alone, comfortable with his touch, then his further plans would stall. Well, it looked as if Sameer Maheshwari did succeed in his first plan, he thought smugly.

The car stopped in-front of her society, she tied her hair again, wondering when she would meet him again and thinking what to tell him. What do people say at the end of a date? Thank you? That sounded lame. Before she could step out of the car, Sameer gave her a bag, she curiously opened it to find a knitted shawl. The wool was soft, the colours bleeding from the lightest to the richest hue, cascading down in shades of blue along the width. “It’s so beautiful”, she exclaimed, lost in the multitude of shades.

“Not more than you”, he said as she looked up, “you know, I have read, that a man is supposed to give gift and then kiss his woman after a date.”

Her fingers clenched in the wool, her eyes rounded, “kiss?”, she whispered.

Sameer laughed, prying her fingers away from the fabric, “hahaa… don’t worry sweetheart. I am not going to kiss you”, he placed the shawl back in the bag, handing it over to her, then met her eyes, the heated expression back in his own, “not yet.”

Her legs felt wobbly as she climbed the stairs, Sameer right behind her, he had insisted on dropping her up to the doorstep. She stopped at the top of the stairs, trying to take a moment to calm herself, but he placed a casual hand at the small of her back, urging her on. Her eyes glazed over at the warmth of his touch, her heart beating in a heavy rhythm, the familiar fluttering in her belly. She was sure someone would notice her abnormal expressions.

Just as the door was opened by Chachiji, Sameer took over, her family’s attention shifted to their future son-in-law, his easy talk giving her time to recover. She held herself beside him, he wasn’t touching her now of course, and that helped. Finally, he turned his attention back to her, “you start writing soon. Meanwhile, I will talk to a couple of publishers.” She nodded, but before he could exit, she spoke up, “drive carefully.” He halted for a moment, his gaze back on her face, he smiled, nodding, “Okay. Good Night.”

Sameer tossed and turned on his bed, as usual, craving for the warmth of her. The ticking of the clock penetrated the silence, making him count hours and minutes, until he could meet her again. The only difference, that cold November night he wasn’t alone in this impatience and incredible yearning.