A.N.D.A.R.

“Main Madhuri nahi hun, lekin banna chahti thi… tumhare liye.”

The single line from Naina threw him off balance, and he almost tuned out of whatever she was saying next. He could fairly hear her words, yet somehow didn’t, it was different, overlapped with the echo of that single line.

How many times had he been compared with Salman? He couldn’t count it… Even Naina compared him with Salman. He had taken so much pride in those comparisons, but now… Guilt was the least of everything that was feeling at that moment.

Yes. There was guilt of hurting her with his behavior. But more than that… there was a sense of shock on finally understanding her intentions behind perming her hair. She knew that she wasn’t looking good, but was still trying to put up a brave face in-front of everyone, even him. His family and relatives had said so many things to her, and she had heard everything without a single word. She had expected that he would be with her, as her support, but he had abandoned her.

He felt angry too… on her and on himself. He racked his brains trying to think if there was any moment when by mistake he had ever made her feel that he didn’t find her beautiful. Why did she feel that she was not beautiful? Why did she think that she needed to spruce up more for him to like her? Why did she feel that she had to look like Madhuri to stand beside him on their wedding? Was it his fault? Or did someone else say anything to her? Chachaji? Chachiji? Preeti? No no… They wouldn’t. Then who? Dammit… of course it had to be Taiji. Hadn’t he himself heard her saying vile things to Naina? Their wedding was not accepted to Tauji and Taiji, so naturally Taiji must have been venomous.

He felt disappointment too… Yes. He was disappointed with himself. He had failed to understand Naina. He knew she must be excited for their wedding, sad because of her father… but he had failed to understand his Naina as a woman. She was right… Every girl on this earth would want to look a little extra beautiful on her wedding. She would want to see the appreciation in her would-be husband’s eyes. He was disappointed that he had somehow failed to let Naina know beforehand that he always found her to be beautiful. As far as he was concerned, she was the most beautiful woman in his world.

Naina was still saying something, still crying, and his heart constricted at the sight of her tears. Swallowing the dry lump in his throat, he tried to compartmentalize all his emotions except the love he felt for her… He was determined to let nothing overshadow that feeling… not today… not a day after today.

He reached out a shaky hand and touched the hair that had shocked him, dismayed him, angered him. She stopped in mid-tirade, her eyes wide with uncertainty about his actions. Tentatively he straightened one of her curls, astonished slightly at the length. As soon as he loosened his hold, it sprung back, but since his finger was already there somehow the curl wrapped around his finger. Biting his lip, his brows furrowed, he caught the curl between his thumb and forefinger and rubbed… It was still so soft… just like he remembered from the time she had hugged him in college. It didn’t look like his Naina’s hair, but it definitely felt like that… He inched closer, and dipped his head, drawing in a deep breath, taking in the fragrance of her hair… Yep. It smelt like his Naina’s hair too.

Naina was surprised at his actions, flustered by his proximity, “Sa…Sameer… K…kya kar rahe ho?”

He drew back and grinned at her, and suddenly gripped her hand and pulled her in his arms. She made a surprised sound as she landed on his chest, and his arms gripped her tight. She failed to understand what was happening. One moment he had been so angry at her, trying to make her suffer, and now he was hugging her. She lifted her hand to his chest, and tried to push, “Sameer…”

He didn’t budge and inch, “shsh… Kitna bolti ho tum. Itna bhi nahi pata ke jab pati gale laga raha ho toh usko bhi gale lagana chahiye.” When she didn’t respond, he drew back, “chalo haath do.” He clasped her hands and wrapped it around himself, and tightened his hold around her again… absently noticing that she flinched in his arms.

She gasped, trying to pull back again, but he didn’t leave her, so she pleaded, “Sameer chodo… chubh raha hai tumhara shirt.”

He moved back, and looked down at himself and then at her, “Naina… bahane mat banao. Shirt pe khilli thodi na lagi hai ke chubhegi. Tum bas naraaz ho toh…” He trailed off, and suddenly his eyes widened as his gaze drifted down her body, and up, lingering near her neckline.

Oh Yes! No… Oh no!

He moved a hand through his hair, and muttered, a mixture of happiness and nervousness in his voice, “Naina mujhe pata hai tumhara mangalsutra kahan pe hai.”

“Kahan?”, she asked urgently.

He started to speak, “tumhare b…”, and then revised, “umm… andar.”

Naina huffed, “andar bahar sab dekh liya kahin nahi hai.”

He nearly groaned at his naive wife, “Naina… tum samajh kyun nahi rahi ho. Tumhare andar.” She still looked confused, so he tried to explain slowly, “A.N.D.A.R.”

Instead of understanding, she folded her arms, “dekho… tum kya bol rahe ho mujhe samajh nahi aa raha. Aur tum na… yeh sab natak bandh karo. Mujhe pata hai tum bas mujhe pareshan kar rahe ho. Ek toh…”

He stopped her rant, by placing a finger on her lips, and then again fiercely pulled her in his arms. This time he exclaimed, “ouch!”

He looked down at her, and tilted her head back with his hand, “chubha?”

She nodded. He smirked, “ab samajha aaya kahan hai mangalsutra? Andar…”

He saw her eyes narrow, a confused frown on her face as she tried to understand his words, and he knew the exact moment she caught on to him because her beautiful eyes widened like saucers, and her face flushed with embarrassment.

“Hey bhagwaan”, she muttered and pulled away from him, turning her back to him. In her haste to reach to her precious mangalsutra, she didn’t even try to escape to the bathroom, rather just tried to search beneath her pallu. She didn’t even realize that she had turned away from him, but she was now facing the mirror and behind her Sameer stood frozen to the spot watching with wide-eyed fascination as Naina pulled out the mangalsutra from within the depths of her blouse.

Relieved at having located it, she sighed, a smile blooming on her face, but the next moment she looked up and her eyes met his in the mirror. It took her only a few seconds to realize what had happened, and her face flushed with mortification. This time she tried to escape, just go away from there and his glittering gaze, but his hand shot our and wrapped around her waist holding her in place in-front of him.

His voice was low and deep, “kahan jaa rahi ho? Magalsutra toh main hi pehnaunga na.”

She shivered at the intensity in his voice, but somehow her attempts to escape had stopped, and her legs were feeling weak making her want to lean back on him. His other arm snaked around her, and caught her hand that was still fisting the mangalsutra, with the locket hanging outside on her fingers. Holding her gaze in the mirror, he lifted her hand up, and dropped a kiss on the locket. She blushed furiously and he smirked knowing she had understood what he had done.

He took the mangalsutra from her hand, and tied it around her neck, again getting the incredible feeling of happiness and possessiveness just like he had felt on the day of their wedding. He wrapped his arms around her, and pulled her back to his chest, lowered his head and said against her ear, “tumhe Madhuri banne ki koi zarurat nahi hai. Mujhe sirf meri Naina se pyaar hai. Tum jaisi bhi ho, jo bhi ho… sirf meri ho.” Saying so, he dropped a kiss on her head, without any words telling her that he was okay with her hairstyle too, simply because it was a part of her.

Tears threatened to spill from her eyes, she turned in his hold, and buried in his chest, wrapping her arms around him. Sameer stood there with his wife in his arms, finally feeling at peace again, eagerly anticipating the forthcoming night and wondering if a simple A.N.D.A.R. took so much time to explain, how he would explain everything else.