Always and Forever
Part - 5 Realization

The morning was still early, and the cabin was silent except for the rusting sound of papers, as two men pored over files. Sameer had never thought that he would be pulling in more than 12 hours of shift without any major production contract. This time the reason for his excessive working hours was a trade exhibition. He cursed the organizers, probably the twentieth time, in a span of one hour since he had started working this morning. Just yesterday, he had received the news of his application being accepted and since then a group of people have been working almost non-stop to put together everything required for this exhibition. Fabric samples, details about production techniques, dyeing methods, articles about the company, future plans for expansion, market positioning, there were so many details to take care of, so many information to collect and add to leaflets. Last night he had worked till 10pm in office and then had taken the shareholder reports at home to outline what segments could be printed into the exhibition brochure. His only solace was that he had talked to Naina at around mid-night. He had completely forgotten about time while working, and when he had seen it was a little past 12am he had thought she would be sleeping, still he had tried calling. Naina had picked up the call before the first ring was over. Somehow, she had known that he would call and had been waiting for it.

“Sameer yeh dekhiyo zara. Sahi lag raha hai”, Munna asked forwarding a file towards him.

He looked through the file, rubbing his head with one hand, a headache was starting to build, “hmm… sahi hai”, he returned the file and picked up the telephone, “Gayatri didi, please do coffee bhijwa dena na cabin me”, he requested to his secretary. Gayatri was a kind-hearted lady, much older than him, and had been Nanu’s secretary as well. When he had started working she had been instrumental in bringing him up-to date with all the daily chores, as well as helping him in understanding how his Nanu had dealt with his employees. Ten minutes later she came in with some files, and a canteen boy followed her in with coffee. “Manoj sir yeh aapne buyers ki jo file mangvai thi woh hai”, she handed over a file to Munna and placed the remaining ones in-front of Sameer. His headache increased.

“Didi yeh sab kya hai?”, Sameer asked impatiently.

“Sir aap ne hi kaha tha production ki files dene ko”, Gayatri replied, “aur yeh file aapki aaj ki meeting ke liye.”

Sameer frowned, “ab aaj meri konsi meeting hai?”

Gayatri looked at him sympathetically, “aapki school me meeting hai aaj Sir. Woh meetings to aap kabhi cancel nai karte, to isiliye maine iss baar bhi cancel nai kiya.”

“Shit!”, Sameer exclaimed, “main to bhul hi gaya tha. Thanks, didi.” Gayatri nodded and left.

Sameer picked up a cup and looked at Munna who had a strange expression on his face, “ab tujhe kya hua?”

Munna made a face, “yaar itne saal ho gaye kaam karte hue, lekin aaj bhi koi Manoj Sir kehta hai na to peeche mudke dekhne ka man hota hai k kahin kisi aur ko to nai bula rahe.”

Sameer laughed, “kya yaar tu bhi na. Yeh le coffee pee”, he offered the second cup to his friend.

Munna accepted the cup, “yeh school ki kya meeting hai?”

“Yaar woh English medium ke liye jo naye classrooms ban rahe hai na usike funds ke baare me hai”, Sameer sighed, “lekin ab samajh nai aa raha ke kaise jau.”

“Cancel karde”, Munna suggested, “agle hafte chale jaana.”

“Nai yaar”, Sameer shook his head, “wahan funds sahi time pe nai diye to construction delay ho jayega.” This year, he had taken up the responsibility to expand their own school to include English medium classes as well, starting with primary sections first. This was Nanu’s dream and he wanted to fulfil it, and so did Naina. She had been instrumental in talking to the other trustees and teachers as well, and she had also put together the project report for the municipal corporation approval.

“Idea!”, Sameer exclaimed, “Naina ko kehta hun jaake aaye meri jagah.”

“Bhabhi kar legi tera kaam?”, Munna asked.

Sameer took another sip of the bitter hot coffee, “of course, Naina 100% kar legi”, he had a proud smile on his face.

The melodious voice of Anuradha Paudwal singing Amritwani was punctuated by the whistles from the pressure cooker as the smell of boiled chickpeas wafted through the house. “Aree waah, aaj to lagta hai ghar me party hai”, Chachaji said to Preeti.

“Haan, aaj kuch to hua hai”, Preeti agreed with her father, “Tinde nazar nai aa rahe dur dur tak.”

Just then a boy of about 13 years entered with a bulging school bag, took a deep breath, “aaj kuch special ban raha hai kya?”

“Tu firse idhar aa gaya Pralay?”, Preeti propped her hands on her hip, “jab dekho tab subah subah aa jaata hai. Ja apne ghar jaa.”

Pralay stuck out his tongue, “nai jaunga. Kya kar logi?”

“Achcha. Theher abhi batati hun tujhe”, Preeti picked up a wooden scale and chased her brother.

“Naina didi… Bachao”, Pralay took refuge behind Naina who was rolling out puris for Chachiji to fry.

Just then Taiji entered, “Oh bai! Mere Parlay babu ko maaregi tu”, she wielded a spatula like a sword.

Preeti too scudded behind Naina, “nai nai Taiji…”

Naina was extremely amused. Pralay usually came to her to save himself from Preeti, but now even Preeti would hide behind her, because ever since her marriage was fixed no one would hit her. Taiji believed that the girl belonged to her husband after Roka, so she wouldn’t raise her hand on Naina, and her cousins took advantage of it. “Tu hat saamne se Naina”, Taiji ordered.

“Bhagwaan jhuth na bulaye bhabhiji, jaane dijiye na”, Bela requested while lifting out a round of fried puris, “bachche to bas khel rahe the.”

“Bachche?”, Taiji scoffed, “Neva Bela! Teri beti adrak ki tarah fel rahi hai aur tujhe abhi bhi yeh bachchi lagti hai”, she taunted on Preeti’s weight, “bachcha to mera Parlay babu hai jisko yeh maar rahi hai.”

“Pralay bhi bada ho gaya hai Taiji”, Naina didn’t move away, “aap hi to kehti hai na kitna samajhdaar hai.”

Bela hid her smile, while Taiji now stood in dilemma, “haan samajhdaar to hai…”, she acquiesced, thinking whether to praise her son’s intelligence or scold Preeti saying her son was still small.

“Taiji aap ise chodiye”, Naina said, “main to aapse puchne aa hi rahi thi ke prasad me jo suji ka halwa banana hai usme ghee kitna daalu. Chachiji ko yaad nai aa raha”, she successfully diverted Taiji.

Naina signalled her cousins to escape while Taiji proudly took over the task of teaching her how to make halwa, continuously commenting on Bela’s inappropriate cooking skills. As Taiji measured out quantities of ghee and suji, Bela and Naina shared a conspiratorial grin.

Soon Chachaji and Preeti left for work, and Pralay for school, Taiji scurried away muttering about her house-hold work, Chachiji and Naina took a breather, sitting on the sofa and replacing the bhajan cassette with movie songs. It was Tuesday and they had decided to go to Durga temple to offer a red chunri for Naina’s marriage as was the custom of their family, and so they had been busy making prasad of puri, chana, and suji halwa since morning. “Beta tu taiyar ho jaa. Warna bhabhiji firse kahegi k hamari wajah se der ho gai”, Bela said straightening up herself.

Just as Naina got up to go to her room, the phone rang, and she picked it up, “Hello.”

“Thoda pyaar se bol diya karo”, Sameer teased.

Her face softened, eyes brightened up, and lips curved in a smile, “Good Morning.”

Chachiji patted her shoulder and left from there with a knowing smile on her face, and Naina blushed.

“Good Morning sweetheart”, Sameer felt as if his headache healed instantly, and the day looked cheerful enough, “kya kar rahi ho?”

Naina sat down again on the sofa, “aaj mata k mandir me puja karni hai to usika prasad bana rahe the subah se. Main bas taiyar hone hi jaa rahi thi.”

“Achcha”, Sameer leaned back in his chair comfortably, “ummm… saree pehnogi?”, he asked thinking of how she had looked during their Roka.

“Haan”, Naina answered, “warna Taiji kahegi ke akkal nai hai mereme.”

He laughed, “ab Taiji ko kya pata k meri Naina me itni akkal hai k woh unko bhi bewakuf bana leti hai.”

Naina chuckled, “tumhara kaam kaisa chal raha hai?”

“Bahot baaki hai ab tak, but chal raha hai”, he informed, “aur mujhe tumhari help chahiye.”

“Meri help?”, she asked confused, “tumhare exhibition me main kya help kar sakti hun?”

“Exhibition me nai, lekin aaj school me ek meeting hai”, he clarified, “wahan tum help kar sakti ho.” He went on to explain that she needed to check the bills that were submitted, and then issue the proper amount of money to the contractors.

Naina was slightly scared to be given such a huge responsibility, especially because it was related to money in digits she couldn’t even imagine, but she also knew that Sameer did indeed need her help. “Thike”, she agreed, “main mandir se sidhe school chali jaungi, tum kisike haatho file aur cheque book bhijwa dena.”

“Uski koi zarurat nahi”, Sameer sat up gathering the things she would need, “main car abhi bhijwa raha hun. Mandir bhi usime jao, fir wahi car leke school chali jaana.”

Naina immediately objected, “Sameer iski koi zarurat nahi hai. Main auto le lungi na. Waise bhi…”

He cut her off in between, “Naina…”

She immediately stopped. He had said just one word, her name. But curiously enough, the tone reminded her of a teacher admonishing her, or Chachaji stopping her from doing something wrong. She frowned confused, thinking what she had said wrong.

This is our room. Your bunch of keys for our home.

His words came back to her and she slapped her forehead. At the other end Sameer waited patiently for her to realize. At last her voice came, softly, “Sorry.”

“For what?”, he wasn’t going to let her off the hook easily.

Naina sighed, “Our room, our home. I remember.”

“So?”, he prodded.

She knew he won’t leave her until she accepted, “so, its our car as well.”

“Good”, he said shortly, “20 minutes me car aa jayegi”, then added “aur suno blue saree pehenna.”

Naina smiled, “tum thodi na dekhne wale ho jo demand kar rahe ho.”

“To kya hua?”, he flirted, “dekh nai sakta, lekin imagination me to sab kuch kar sakta hun.”

“Kya karoge?”, she asked confused.

He gave a lopsided grin, “bolke batane me kya mazaa sweetheart. Jab milogi tab karke bataunga”, he blew her a noisy kiss.

She blushed furiously, “tum… tum…”, she stuttered unable to find words.

He controlled his laughter. “Blue saree”, he demanded again, “byee sweetheart”, he disconnected after showering another loud kiss on her through the receiver.

Naina opened her cupboard, looking at the sarees she had, her heart was racing so fast, she felt it could defeat a millisecond hand on the clock. Determinedly she ignored the only blue saree she had and pulled out a yellow one. Ten minutes later, she was sitting in-front of the mirror, the blue saree draped perfectly, and she muttered to herself about how she always caved in to his demands. As she added a bindi on her forehead, the sound of his loud kisses rang in her ears, and a delicate shade of red tinged her cheeks.

Taiji was elated at the news that they would go by car, she continuously praised her Bholuram. They finished the puja and after dropping Chachiji and Taiji back home, Naina went to their school. As she stepped in, the memories came rushing back to her, of her first meeting with Sameer, their playful moments on the swings, how she had muddied his shirt to get it off him. She was excited to meet the teachers again, especially Shanti teacher, she was still teaching in the same school and was just as loved by the current students as she was by them. She peeked into the classroom, remembering how she and Sameer sat on adjacent benches communicating through their secret code. She laughed softly recalling Sameer writing doha on the blackboard after stealing her shoes, he had confessed that incident to her, and she had confessed how she had thought he had written it to encourage her. She had taken her revenge by hiding his shoes in college, making him roam around the entire day bare feet, and he had been clueless about it, not being able to imagine that she could do something like that. He had not known whether to be furious or laugh along with his friends later that evening, when she had returned his shoes to him.

Her reminiscence was interrupted by a sobbing sound, and a spur of heated voices from principal sir’s cabin. She saw a boy and a girl sitting outside on a bench and the girl was sobbing, while the boy looked worried. She approached them, and to her horror saw that the girl’s cheek was swollen and red, she immediately crouched down in-front of her, “kya hua tumhe? Kyun ro rahi ho?”

The girl didn’t answer. She tried again, “achcha tumhara naam kya hai batao. Konse standard me padhti ho?”

This time however the boy answered, “iska naam Pooja hai, aur main Rishi. Hum dono 10th me padhte hai.”

Naina concentrated on the boy, desperate to find what had happened, “aur yeh ro kyun rahi hai?”

The boy hung his head in shame, “meri wajah se isko maar pad gai.”

“Tumne kya kiya?”, she asked gently, “mujhe batao. Main daantungi nai.”

“Aap teacher ho?”, the boy asked confused and tensed.

Naina tried to assure him, “nai main teacher nai hun. Isiliye tum mujhe bata sakte ho ke kya problem hai.”

“Woh maine ek letter likha tha jo Rakesh sir ko mil gaya”, the boy confessed haltingly, “woh mujhe maarne gaye to main hat gaya, aur mere saath Pooja khadi thi to use lag gai”, a tear dropped from his eyes.

Naina sat back stunned. So, this was about her father’s atrocities again. She looked at the girl’s swollen face and could easily imagine how hard the slap must have been. It could have hurt even a boy very badly, let alone a girl’s soft skin. Everything feminine inside her revolted at the sight and her sensibility as a teacher was challenged at the thought of such inhuman behaviour by another teacher. Even though she had a very good experience about her father’s habit of manhandling students, she had seen Sameer on the receiving end quite often, she had almost forgotten how harsh he was. But now looking at these students she was reminded of everything Sameer had to bear, something started to rise inside her. She asked the peon to get water for them, then turned her attention back to the kids. “Letter Pooja ke liye likha tha tumne?”, she asked, understanding it was a love letter. It was good to have all the information before she stepped in the mayhem in the cabin.

The boy shook his head, “nai. Pooja to meri cousin hai.”

Naina wiped the tears from the girl’s cheek, “to fir kiske liye tha letter? Naam likha hai letter me?”

“Nai, maine naam nai likha kisika bhi”, the boy again shook his head, “Sir ko woh letter mere book me se mila jo library me reh gaya tha.”

The peon came back with water, and she took the glasses passing them on to the kids, “paani peelo. Aur rona bandh karo. Main abhi aati hun.”

She stepped inside the cabin to find two sets of furious parents, a frustrated Principal sir, and a red-faced yelling man that was her father. She knocked loudly, interrupting the conversation, and everyone turned surprised to look at her. “Naina, tu yahan kya kar rahi hai? Dekh nai rahi hum baat kar rahe hai. Bahar jaa”, her father commanded.

She stood firm, “yeh principal sir ka cabin hai aur main unse milne aai hun Rakesh sir”, she stressed on the title, reminding him that in school he wasn’t her father. Dressed in the blue silk saree, with pearl clusters in her ears, her hair pulled back in a neat braid, Naina looked graceful. She wore minimal make-up and a watch adorned one hand while glass bangles sat pretty in other. The picture was of a sophisticated respected woman, who knew her way about the matter she was trying to handle.

“Andar aao Naina”, Principal sir pounced on the chance of having a sane voice in the chaos, “Sameer ne bataya tha ke tum aaogi trustee meeting ke liye.”

Naina smiled. Principal sir’s words had immediately placed her on a respected position in-front of the parents. They now turned to her and one woman, probably the girl’s mother, started explaining what had happened and complaining about her father. The father of the girl threatened to talk to the other trustees as well about the brutality. Rakesh interrupted, a sarcastic laughter, “haa… jaiye kijiye complain. Mera koi kuch nai bigad sakta. Iss school ka primary trustee mera hone wala damaad hai.”

“Aur main unki hone wali biwi”, Naina voiced loud enough to stop her father’s rant, “aur yahan aaj unke taraf se aai hun.” She didn’t know what was happening to her. But something erupted inside her at her father’s words. How dare he take Sameer’s name to support his heinous actions? He hadn’t spoken one word to him after the marriage was fixed. He hadn’t expressed happiness one single time to her or blessed her. And still he had the audacity to use Sameer’s name and their relation in-front of the harassed parents. “Naina…”, her father started in a tone that had silenced her all these years. But not anymore. She ignored him and turned towards the parents, “main samajhti hun aap logo pe kya beet rahi hai. But meri request hai aapse ke aap log thodi der bahar wait kariye apne bachcho ke saath. Main khud aake aapse baat karungi.”

They looked unconvinced, but thankfully agreed to her request. Once they left, she turned towards principal sir, “kya main woh letter dekh sakti hun?”

She took the letter from principal sir and read it, it was a love letter, but quite simple one, he had asked the girl to be his friend. “Iss letter ke liye itna hungama?”, she asked in general aiming the question at both her father and principal sir.

“Iss letter se kya matlab hai tera?”, he father ranted, just as she had expected, “school me yeh sab karne aate hai kya? Iss umar me bhi koi pyaar karta hai?”

“Maine kiya tha”, she affirmed, “aur jis damaad ka naam leke aap itne daave kar rahe the usne bhi kiya tha.” Rakesh stopped yelling, surprised at the tone of his daughter’s voice. There wasn’t any fear, or the usual tremble she had when talking to him. Instead she was calm, composed and her voice rang crystal clear in the cabin. Naina continued, “aapko yaad rakhna chahiye ke trustee se related honepe koi special treatment nai milti. Sameer ko bhi nikala gaya tha iss school se galti karne pe”, she paused letting the implication set in before adding, “aur school se kisi student ya teacher ko bhi nikalne ka pura adhikaar ab tak Principal sir ko hai. Aap parents ke saamne ya kisike bhi saamne unse iss tarike se baat nai kar sakte.”

Rakesh started to say something, but Naina raised her hand signalling that she wasn’t finished yet. “Dusri baat yeh ki maana school me discipline zaruri hai lekin zamana badal raha hai”, she continued, “bahar jo ladka betha hai woh Sameer, Munna ya Pandit nai hai. Naa hi woh ladki Naina, Preeti ya Swati hai. Aur naa hi unke guardians Jayprakash Maheshawari jaise koi insaan hai jo aapki baato ko chup-chap sunle. Aajkal ke parents chup nai rahenge aap bachcho ko aise maarenge to. Jaake dekhiye uss ladki ko, aapko andaaza ho jayega ke kitni zor se aapne maara hai. Woh bachche hai koi gunehgaar nai. Agar parents ne trustees ke saamne aapki complain ki to sab log milke aapko iss school se nikalneka decision bhi le sakte hai, aur principal sir bhi trustees ke decision ke saamne aapko bachayenge nai. Aur rahi baat Sameer ki, to woh as a trustee apni zimmedari nibhaynege, rishta nahi.”

She looked towards Principal sir, who was sitting equally surprised at Naina’s speech, “Sir, agar aap bura naa mane to mera ek sujhaav hai.”

“Haan bolo bolo”, Principal sir was quite eager to implement any ideas that could curb Rakesh sir’s activities.

Naina sat down on the chair, “aap Shanti madam se kahiye ke inn bachcho se aur unke parents se baat kare. Woh achche se samjha sakti hai”, she suggested, “aur aage se aisa kuch hota hai to yahi tareeka sahi rahega. Parents-teacher counselling. Jaise results or bachcho ke progress ke baare me discussion hota hai waise hi iss maamle me bhi yahi kar sakte hai.”

Principal sir looked thoughtful, “baat to tum sahi keh rahi ho. Main abhi Shanti madam ko bulvata hun.”

Rakesh stood silent. It seemed as if her daughter’s speech had left his incapable of speaking. When Shanti teacher came in principal sir briefed her on what happened and Naina’s suggestion. She looked at Naina, surprised, but understood where this had come from. Naina excused herself and talked to the parents, apologizing on the school’s behalf, assuring that it won’t be repeated, and asking them to have a discussion with Shanti teacher. She told them that if they were dissatisfied after talking to Shanti teacher, they could come and talk to her and she would do whatever she can to help them. Her father left the cabin, and she didn’t talk to him or pay any more attention to his mutterings, rather focused on the task at hand and fulfilled the responsibility Sameer had trusted her with. The parents seemed satisfied when she met them before leaving, and they thanked her for handling the situation.

As the car speeded back to her home, she sat looking out the window, her gaze unfocused, as she kept thinking of the incidents at school. Upon reaching home, she hurried back to her room, muttering a quick greeting to Chachiji, and locked the door behind her. She leaned against it, eyes closed, trembling. What had happened to her? How did she say all those things in-front of her father? Why didn’t she feel scared? She tried to analyse the feelings that had swamped her, made her utter all those words without any fear, she could hear her own clear voice, her father’s shocked face swam before her eyes. She wobbled to the dressing table and sank into the chair, automatically starting to arrange the array of cosmetics in order, the daily routine calming her nerves. Naina stared in the mirror at the sophisticated reflection, sometimes she was surprised at the image that looked back, as if it wasn’t really her. Most of the passages of her life had been marked by milestones of education, her only aim being the topper of her class every year, but life had taken a turn from the moment she had almost bumped into Sameer. She had fallen in love. Even she hadn’t expected this from herself. The series of ups and downs after that had finally ended in college, that passage was good, they were together, and slowly they had grown. He had turned into a successful businessman. And she? She looked at her reflection again, she had never taken the time to look at herself properly.

Sameer had kept her diverted from the taunts at home and teasing at college, with his constant demand on her time, his attentions in form of gifts, his love in form of shielding her from everything, be it other girls teasing her or some boys trying to flirt with her. He had kept her protected, but he had also helped her grow, she realized with wonder. Since college time he had insisted she write stories, saying he wanted to hear them, those stories had helped her pave her way when she had started freelance writing, again at his insistence. He had given her membership card to the biggest public library in Ahmedabad as a gift, that had given her unlimited access to a vast repository of knowledge and novels, which had inadvertently sharpened her writing skills. Much to her irritation, he had even bought trinkets and dresses for her, until she had realized that maybe he never said it out loud, but he liked when she primped herself up. After that she had started paying attention to her dresses, taking Swati and Preeti’s help, she had even learned to apply basic make-up for college parties or other gatherings. The gifts of dresses and trinkets had stopped, she thought now, just as she had started to put in efforts from her side. Distractedly she wiped the kajal from her eyes. Funny how the competent application of kajal or foundation has transformed itself into a smidgen of self-confidence, how wearing a dress that complemented her physical attributes had somehow untied her tongue and allowed her to carry on a conversation confidently.

She untied her hair, combing her brush through the waist-long tresses, recalling how much Sameer liked them. That was another thing Sameer had taught her with his love, how to appreciate certain things about her own appearance, making her realize that she wasn’t someone who would fade into the crowd, because for him she always stood out. The greatest gifts Sameer had given her was constructed out of the small accomplishments of learning how to apply make-up, to dress well, to function socially, to voice her opinion. The foundation had taken shape so slowly, that she hadn’t noticed it, a brick going into place every so often, but now it was suddenly large enough for her to see it, and she was puzzled by it.

Self-confidence. How she had always envied people who had it. Sameer always had a dynamic, aggressive self-confidence, the kind that built successful business empires, and he had proven it. Preeti and Swati had always been certain enough of themselves to voice out their opinions in-front of anyone. Even Munna and Pandit had been sure of their abilities often. She had been the only one who was unsure, timid and insecure. That had changed slowly with the surety of Sameer’s love.

The slow-forming structure was her own self-confidence. The realization made her eyes widen with mild surprise. Today when she had seen the plight of those kids, reminding her of the suffering Sameer had borne, when she had heard her own father using Sameer’s name and status and her marriage to him as a pedestal for his unjust activities, she had risen to the occasion and had dealt with the situation with self-confidence. The sheer force of shock and anger had propelled her into action, a spirit she hadn’t realized lived inside her. She continued staring into the mirror, at the face she knew so well, and yet felt as if she had just opened the door to a different outlook.

And Sameer had known this side of her even before she knew it herself. In fact, he had been instrumental in building this structure. She had never realized. Her lips parted in surprise. She was so accustomed to thinking of herself as least important to anybody, that she had failed to realize that she was so important to Sameer that he had devotedly spent years giving her unconditional love and assurance of security without demanding anything in return.

When had this happened? She thought but couldn’t pinpoint a time. The process had been so gradual that there was no single outstanding incident to mark the occasion. A sense of peace began to glow deep inside.

She stood up, removing the blue saree and changing into salwar-kameez. Was there something else that he knew, and she didn’t? She neatly folded her saree, thinking about the recent happenings, and her mind landed on their date. There it was. He had avoided her eyes quite too often, especially when he had touched her legs, and then again when they had gone to his home, no, their home. Her eyes narrowed. He knew she could read his eyes very well, so was that why he wasn’t looking at her? She was sure now that she had seen triumph flash in his eyes, when he had seen her dressed up in the green churidaar for him the other day, he had controlled it, but she wasn’t mistaken. Then again, there was that expression in his eyes, that additional glitter, the deepening of color. What did that mean? She rubbed her forehead, trying to think. As she placed the folded saree in the cupboard, her eyes landed on the recent romance novels she had brought from the library, with hopes to understand how to write about the nuances of love stories. She had hidden them in the cupboard so that no one could find them. She remembered some phrases from them now, details of romantic encounters of the protagonists. She sat back on the bed, stunned. She hadn’t been wrong in her impression the first time he had touched her leg.

He was trying to flirt with her.

Those touches under the table, his gazes, the way he had picked up that cheese, his hand on her back. She understood now that he had sent Ramdhari away that day, so they could be together. He had wanted her alone with him. Those hints about kisses he had dropped so often. Sweetheart, the endearment. Everything was intentional. But why was he trying to hide it from her? Because he wanted her to understand and reciprocate on her own, the answer came to her mind immediately, just like had done in college, gifting her dresses until she had realized that he wanted her to dress up for him. He was just being himself, trying to teach her something, without spelling it out as a demand, giving her time to adjust, understand and accept.

Their relationship had changed after their Roka. He was ready to share a room, a home, and everything he owned, with her because she was his. They belonged to each other. She recalled the couples at college, and Sameer’s sudden reaction that one time when he had pulled her to him. He had let her go then. But now he was determined. He wasn’t letting her go now but rather forcing her to think of him and his actions. He had refrained all those years, silently being by her side, a solid support. But now he wasn’t ready to hold back any longer. He was trying to teach her romance, make her think of developments in their relationship, because that was what he wanted now.

He wanted her. Everything she had been musing about clicked solidly into place.

A bright cheery laughter spurted from inside her at the realization. She pulled the large pink teddy bear, hugging it to her. Warmth spread through her, as gossamer as a butterfly’s wing, when it newly emerged from the cocoon. So, Mr. Maheshwari was being her teacher. Well, two could play the game just as well, she thought smiling. After all, she had to let him know that she was a willing student.