Always and Forever
Part - 11: Designing Their World

The birds twittered outside, returning to their home and the sky began to glow in shades of orange and red as the sun started to dip slowly in the western horizon. Naina sat in his arms looking at the multitude of shades and felt as if same explosion of colours was happening inside her. She had read several kissing scenes in novels, even watched whatever was available to see in movies, had wondered about it. But nothing, nothing compared to the reality. She had no way of knowing that her body was capable of so many reactions, or that she could want more. It was new. Scary? She nuzzled against his chest, no, it wasn’t scary at all. It was sweet, sensuous, and she wanted to do it again. He had made it good for her. If this was how he had felt and wanted all these years, then how in the world had he waited for so long? Not even once had he tried to breach her boundaries. He had stayed by her side, doing things for her from the background, enabling her to grow and change, while maintaining an iron-control on himself. How could he love her so much? Never in her adolescent dreams had she imagined finding love with someone as good as him. Tears prickled her eye-lids and she blinked.

Sameer hugged her to his chest, his cheek resting on her head, his heartbeat now steady. It had happened. Finally. His yearning, his craving, his fantasies, everything had boiled down to this one moment today. Glowing warmth and fierce pride surged inside him as he recalled how Naina had responded to his kiss. He had known, had felt sure there was this other side of her, she was sensuous to the core. The way she had kissed him back had thrilled him, weakened his knees, and made him want to do more than just kiss her. His hand stroked her back, and suddenly he felt a warm wetness on his shirt. Frowning, he cupped her face and pulled back to look.

“Oh no!”, he was shocked on seeing her tears. “Ro kyun rahi ho Naina? Thik to ho na? Maine kuch galat kiya kya?”, he asked frantically, wiping her tears with his fingers, “please kuch to bolo.”

She laughed softly through her tears, “tum apne sawalo ka silsila band karoge to main kuch bolu na”, she rubbed her cheek against his palm, “aur main ro nai rahi.”

“To fir yeh aansu?”, he quizzed.

She smiled, “main khush hun, isiliye.” She cupped his face and kissed his forehead, surprising him.

He stared at her for a couple of seconds, then pulled her to him again, “main bhi bahot khush hun.”

“Waise tumhe shayad pata nai, lekin jab log khush hote hai na tab haste hai”, he teased.

She sniffed, “tum nai samjhoge”, and she tickled him making him laugh and squirm. His grip loosened, and she drew back from him, standing up, “ab chale? Finally, bed select karle? Warna shaadi se pehle to aane se raha.”

He didn’t want to move from there, “Naina, aaj 25th November hai. Ab tak pura December aur January pada hai furniture ke liye. Hamari shaadi February me hai.”

She crossed her arms, “haan, par itna saara furniture banne me bhi to time lagega na. Aur ek dressing table bhi select karna hai”, she looked around the room, “main soch rahi hun thode aur cheeze kharidni padegi hume, jaise yeh sofa shift ho jayega to uski jagah aur kuch laana padega na.”

A smile tugged at his lips as he looked at her thoughtfully looking around their room, she was truly behaving as if this room was rightfully hers, and he liked it. “Sahi keh rahi ho tum”, he agreed, “ek kaam karta hun, main catalogues yahan leke aata hun.” She nodded understanding his wish to be in this room.

Soon they were sitting on the floor, in-front of the sofa, busy in scanning through numerous pictures of bed. She frowned reading the dimensions, recalling his words on needing a big and strong bed, she blushed even though she didn’t really understand his meaning completely. As she turned over to the next page, she stopped staring at a beautiful mahogany bed, she felt it was perfect.

“Sameer…”, she whispered, tugging on his sleeve, still staring at the picture.

He looked up at her face, then followed the direction of her eyes, and saw the bed she was looking at. It was a vintage king size mahogany four poster, with a thick solid base, a semi-circular headboard, four rounded columns spiralled upward from each corner, and were met with an intricately carved open frame at the top, that had loops positioned in the design for hanging curtains. He somehow immediately pictured himself making love to Naina on that bed, while she writhed amidst creamy satin sheets, sheer white curtains surrounding them. The hairs on his body stood up on ends, an electrical charge running through him, the image was striking in clarity. He swallowed. His hands almost trembled, as he clenched his fists, and closed his eyes.

“Kaisa laga yeh?”, her voice broke into his thoughts.

He opened his eyes to find her still looking at the picture, “it’s perfect”, he croaked. She looked up at him and grinned, “mujhe bhi aisa hi laga dekhke.”

He cleared his throat, “umm… mujhe bhuk lag rahi hai, kuch khane ko leke aata hun”, he stood up and scooted. He needed a minute to calm himself.

Naina frowned, “ise kya hua?”, she muttered to herself. She stood up thinking to go after him, but then changed her mind and sat down again, skimming the books for a dressing table. He returned after ten minutes with a dish of cream biscuits, some snacks and two cups of coffee. As he sat down next to her, she looked at the cups in surprise, “tumne coffee banai?”

“Haan”, he shifted closer to look into her catalogue, “par tum chaunk kyun rahi ho? Tum jaanti to ho ke mujhe coffee banana aata hai?”

She picked up an orange cream biscuit, “haan, jaanti hun. Lekin mujhe keh dete to main bana deti.”

He chuckled, “mummy ke instructions hai ke shaadi hone tak tumhe yahan koi kaam na karne du”, he too picked up a biscuit and bit into it, “koi pooja hoti hai shaadi ke dusre din, uske baad tum khana bana sakti ho yahan.”

“Oh achcha, matlab yeh saari seva shaadi hone tak ki hi hai”, she teased, finishing off one biscuit and picking up another.

He leaned towards her, stroking one finger down her cheek and throat, “chinta mat karo, main hamesha seva karunga tumhari”, he winked then grabbed her hand and took a bite from the biscuit she was holding.

She blushed and bit her lower lip. Sameer gaze automatically shifted, as if there was a magnetic pull between her lips and his eyes, and he groaned, “Naina, aisa mat karo. Warna aaj sach me aur koi furniture select nai hoga.”

She looked up surprised, thinking about what he meant, then her eyes flashed mischievously, “kya na karu? Aisa…?”, she bit her lip again eyeing him.

He moved so quickly that she couldn’t even gasp. His one hand wrapped around her waist, and the other one cupped her face, he placed his thumb under her chin and tilted her head back, capturing her lower lip with his teeth, he tugged at it, freeing it from her hold. Unable to resist, he himself nibbled at the soft ripe flesh. She whimpered, the half-eaten biscuit falling from her hands, as she stroked up his chest and clutched his hair, he soothed the bite with his tongue, then took her mouth in a deep no-holds-barred kiss. She shuddered, trying to shift closer to him, as she kissed him back. He made a rough sound at the back of his throat, and then slowly softened the kiss, the remaining semblance of responsibility returning to his brain. He didn’t open his eyes, didn’t look at her, knowing that if he did he would kiss her again, instead he buried his face in her hair, his breath fanning her neck and shoulders.

She panted, stroking his back, licking her own lips, as if to capture the lingering taste. Who was this man? Her Sameer? She had never thought he could move so quickly, make her feel such things. She had known that there was something below the surface, something that she could feel when he would grip her hands urgently, or when he would look at her with those burning eyes, but she hadn’t known that, that something was so primal, so potent. And now she thought that this was still just the beginning, her stomach clenched.

He pulled back from her, now relatively calm, “yeh main kabse karna chahta tha”, he grinned.

Intrigued, she asked, “kabse?”

“College se”, he shrugged, picking up a cup of coffee and passing it to her.

She sipped the coffee, “to fir kabhi kuch kaha kyun nai?”

He sat thinking for a moment, sipping his own coffee, “yeh saari baate kisi aur din karenge. Aaj nai.” He wasn’t sure how to explain the turmoil that had churned in his head, and the subsequent decision he had made. They had just started down the road of physical intimacy, and she could already read him so well, he wasn’t ready to speak about the reasons and fantasies yet. He too had some questions, vague at the moment, lost in his mind behind the haze of her kisses. But he was sure, each one of them would come back to him when he was alone. He would tell her everything, there was nothing to hide from her, just not today. He wanted to enjoy in the feel of their first.

She looked at his thoughtful face and felt his confusion. She knew he would remember her question and answer her whenever he was ready. She also knew there would be questions from him. Well, it wasn’t necessary to talk about it at the moment, he was right. She sipped her coffee again, “waise coffee kaafi achchi bani hai. Shaadi ke baad bhi banake pilaoge na?”

He looked at her and smiled, leaning back on the edge of the sofa, “at your service madam. Jab bhi tum kahogi.” He loved this about her, she never pestered him, somehow, she knew that he would always answer her questions, maybe not right then, but he would. “Kuch aur pasand aaya?”, he asked indicating the catalogues.

She nodded, pointing out two dressing tables, “yeh dono pasand hai, tum batao konsa final kare?”

He looked at the pictures, one was lighter wood shade, small with a half-mirror rounded on top, an open shelf on the side, two drawers on each side and a small stool to sit on. The design was intricate, but he couldn’t imagine Naina in-front of that. The other one was slightly bigger in size, made of dark teak wood, this one also had a half-mirror curving at the top, but there was storage space on both sides, like single-door thin wardrobes. The right door was wooden, and the inside was a space of shelves on the top half, and the bottom half was drawers each one specifically designed for bangles, or earrings or other pieces of jewellery and cosmetics. The inside of the door had small racks, for nail polish, and tiny hooks were attached, that he thought was probably to hang necklaces or whatever trinkets women use. The left door was a top to bottom mirror, with a thin edge of wood running around the perimeter, and the inside was again an open space with broad shelves. This one had a small chair instead of a stool, a low-back chair with a plush cushion. He could almost imagine Naina sitting on it, dressed in a saree, putting on earrings and him standing behind her, admiring his wife.

“Yeh wala perfect hai”, he tapped on the picture, “tum saree pehnogi to bada wala mirror bhi hona chahiye na.”

She looked at the picture again, “hmm… achcha to hai. Lekin thoda zyada bada nai hai?”, she asked hesitantly, “mera matlab, main to itna saara jewellery ya cosmetics use bhi nai karti.”

He frowned, “abhi nai karti, par shaadi ke baad to karogi na”, his face lit up as he explained, “saree ke saath matching jewelleries, aur bahot saari chudiyan bhi to hogi”, then he eyed her wickedly, “aur ab to lipstick ya gloss lagaogi na.”

She laughed, “hahahaa, mujhse zyada to tum excited ho sarees aur jewelleries ko leke.”

He blushed slightly, remembering the sleeveless blouse, “haan to”, he crossed his arms over his chest and pouted, “already ek baar to mere bina shopping karke aai ho tum shaadi ki, ab aisa nai chalega. Mujhe bhi tumhare saath aana hai.”

“Ok baba”, she pacified, “ab se jab bhi shopping karne jayenge tum bhi saath chalna.”

He cheered up considerably at the idea. Maybe he was mad. But he really wanted to enjoy each and every moment of their wedding preparations. They selected a couple of other things, including a new dining table with antique Chippendale style chairs, a navy-blue velvet loveseat with a high back, new bedside cabinets to match with the bed, a big bookshelf for the office room and a small wall mounted one for their bedroom. He looked around, the bedroom would be completely modified, but even now he could already visualize the new pieces, and he realized that knowingly or unknowingly Naina did have style. She might not know softwood from hardwood, or contemporary versus vintage styles, but the choices she had made clearly indicated her aesthetic sense of style. He also realized that all these years she had been subdued, tied down by the rules of her family, and now she was finally opening up, freely voicing her opinions, not hesitating is selecting her own. Her face exuded immense happiness, after all, she was designing their world. He decided she could change every single thing in the house if that gave her happiness. But she didn’t want to. When he asked if she wanted to make some changes to Nanu’s room as well, she strictly refused, that room would remain just as it was because it held memories. He was touched.

To hide the sudden tears welling up in his eyes, he stood up, “aaj kuch to badalte hai iss room me.”

Next moment he realized, his effort was futile, because she stood up and hugged him, and he knew that she understood him perfectly like always. He kissed her temple, then said, “main sach me keh raha tha. Aaj ka day special hai, aane wali life ke liye kuch changes aaj karte hai na.”

She looked up at him, then at the room, “hmm… lekin kya kar sakte hai?”

As they both looked around, her eyes again fell on the posters adorning the walls, “inhe utarte hai”, she stated.

He turned towards her, “tumko meri Julia Roberts se itni to kya problem hai?”, he teased, wanting to see her jealous.

She flipped her open hair from her shoulders, propped her hands on her hips, “zyada kuch nai, bas soch rahi thi ke iske jagah main Salman Khan ke posters lagaungi”, her eyes glittered, “umm… Shahrukh bhi chalega.”

He knew she was teasing him, still he couldn’t help but feel irked, “koi zarurat nai hai. Tumhara khud ka Salman hai na tumhare paas”, he moved his fingers through his hair winking at her.

She looked him up and down, “ummm… nakli hai. Asli wale ki baat hi kuch aur hai”, she stretched her hands, a dreamy look on her face, “haaye, woh uska style se guitar bajana, aur uska dance”, she twirled.

Sameer fumed, jealousy rising in him, not knowing that the dreamy expression was on her face because she was actually thinking of him only. He knew it was unreasonable, but he couldn’t help it. He caught her hand in mid twirl, pulling her to him, and gripped her waist tight, “koi Salman ya Shahrukh nai chalega iss room me. Tum sirf meri ho”, he gritted his teeth.

“To fir Julia Roberts kaise chalegi?”, she questioned wrapping her arms around his waist, looking up at him.

He leaned, touching his forehead to hers, “nai chahiye woh bhi. Nikal do abhi, main help karta hun.”

She smiled, “good. Waise tum bhul gaye ke guitar tum bhi bajate ho, aur dance bhi kar hi lete ho”, she winked and pulled back from him, turning to remove the posters.

He stood there for a minute, his mouth open in surprise, as he realized that she had been thinking of him and not Salman Khan. Then he chuckled at being defeated in his own game by her and went to help her, “kuch zyada hi smart ho gai ho tum”, he muttered.

She grinned pulling off the first poster successfully. For all her annoyance, he noticed that she didn’t rip them off the walls, instead she carefully removed each one and folded them up in a roll. He leaned against the wall, looking at her stashing them safely in the cabinet, feeling amazed at his woman. Her way of dealing with jealousy was different, in school she had been insecure with Kamya’s advances towards him, she portrayed it in several ways, and he had understood even when he had thought he didn’t love her. He had sought to ease her jealousy, either by going after her when she was angry because he had clicked Kamya’s photo, or by apologizing when he had guessed the movie correctly by understanding Pandit’s reference to Kamya as beautiful. But their separation had changed things, ever since he had returned from Delhi and they had joined college, she had been more assured of his love for her, and when some girl tried to flirt with him, she would set her in place in one way or the other, like she had done to Mitali in that freshers party. He had realized it wasn’t jealousy anymore, but more like possessiveness. And he liked it.

He looked at his watch, it would soon be time for her to go back, but he didn’t want this evening to end, not yet. “Saath me dinner karogi?”, he asked.

She also looked at her watch, frowning, she hadn’t realized so much time had passed, “haan”, she agreed, “main ghar pe bata deti hun.”

As she talked to Chachiji, he opened his desk drawer and pulled out an album, it contained memories of all these years, beginning from Mt. Abu to college and after. Their Roka and wedding pictures would be another album. He pulled out a photo from their college trip to Udaipur, this one was clicked at the city palace, they were holding hands in it, and he recalled that when Munna was about to click the picture he had called her name and she had looked up at him. It wasn’t intentional, but she had looked so pretty in that deep blue sweater that he hadn’t been able to resist murmuring her name, and so the picture was clicked as they stood lost in each other’s eyes. He found some tape and stuck the photo to the wall, thinking he would get some of their pictures enlarged and framed for this wall. She finished her call and turned to find him lost in thoughts, staring at the photo, she went up to him and leaned against his arm, “hmm, achcha idea hai.”

He wrapped his hand around his waist, pulling her close, “hamari shaadi ke photos bhi lagayenge yahan.”

She snuggled closer, “haan zarur. Dinner yahan karenge ke bahar jaana hai?”

“Khana order karte hai, yahin khayenge”, he said, “kya pasand karogi? Pizza, Punjabi ya Chinese?”

She thought for a minute then decided on Chinese. Sameer placed the order for soup, noodles, and a vegetable stir fry dish. They went to the balcony, talking, enjoying the cool breeze, as she sat on the parapet, and Sameer stood beside her, leaning for support and holding her hand.

“Tumhe pata hai, mujhe na ghar me bhi jhula chahiye tha”, she said looking at the white swing in the garden.

He looked at the room, “hmm, lekin room me to aur jagah nai hai. Maybe niche hall me laga sakte hai.”

She shook her head, “nai, furniture aur hall ke design ke saath suit nai karega”, she smiled, “koi baat nai, sab kuch abhi hi karna zaruri nai hai. Baad me sochenge ke kahan laga sakte hai.”

He smiled back, leaning towards her and placing a soft kiss on her cheek. After fifteen minutes, their dinner arrived, and Sameer brought it up along with some soft drinks from the fridge. Naina got some plates, bowls and cutlery from the kitchen. They shared their first meal in their room, and Sameer was elated that unlike everyday today he didn’t have to eat alone. They fed hot and sour soup to each other, and slurped noodles childishly, laughing on each other. No one witnessing them could have believed that the man was the owner of a successful business empire known for his strictly professional attitude, and the woman was a demure lady who wouldn’t even laugh out loud in-front of her whole family. There was no need for television, their incessant chatter and laughter filled the room, and the delicious meal was finished even before they realized.

Sameer went to keep the dishes back, when he returned with a bottle of saunf he noticed she had moved to the balcony again and was staring up at the sky. “Kya dekh rahi ho?”, he asked offering her the bottle.

She shook her head, rubbing her hands over her arms, the air was cold, “dhruv tara dikh nai raha ab tak.”

“Hmm”, he stood next to her, but leaned with his back to the parapet, crossing his arms, and kept looking at her face.

She smiled, “aise kya dekh rahe ho?”

“Aaj tumhe wapas jaane deneka man nai ho raha”, he sighed, knowing the evening was coming to an end, he can’t keep her here too late.

She understood, because she too was feeling the same thing, she moved towards him, and he opened his arms to accommodate her. She hugged him, placing her head on his chest, “mera bhi man nai hai jaaneka, lekin jaana to padega na.”

“Jaanta hun”, he rubbed his nose in her hair, breathing in the fragrance of her shampoo.

The feel of her in his arms, her fragrance, her sighing breath on his chest, everything about her aroused him. He shifted slightly, trying to hide his reaction, not sure how she would feel about it, or if she would understand anything yet. The had been seated when they had kissed, both times, and he had not needed to worry about anything. But now they were standing, and she was completely pressed against him. Sensations raced through him, along with worry, as he debated if he should pull back from the hug.

The warmth of his arms was amazing, she thought, as she buried her face deeper in his chest. The man was a furnace. Her face flushed as she relived the kisses, how his hands had held her, angling her head for his pleasure and hers. She should be appalled by her own reaction, she had never thought that she could do something like this, be so open and forward with a man. It should have felt out of character for her, yet it didn’t, she couldn’t help but relish in this new-found freedom of touching him, kissing him. She blushed again as she recalled how she had literally teased him into kissing her again, she hadn’t thought… Her thoughts trailed off as she felt him shift, his hands tightening on her. She frowned, starting to look up, but paused, intrigued, when his hips moved against her. With her head against his chest, she could feel his heartbeat racing. She was inexperienced, but not really as stupid and clueless as everyone thought. Books were an incomparable source of information, all theoretical, yes, but still she knew what his reaction meant. She could distinctly feel him, and several terms from the novels raced in her mind. She had been curious to delve more, know more, and she had, but this wasn’t any book, this was Sameer, real and in flesh, and her heart started a strong, heavy beat as heat crept through her. Her body tingled from barely awakened instincts and needs rather than true knowledge.

Just then, she felt his hands on her waist, as if to draw her away, and she realized what he was doing. He was protecting her again, sheltering her from his own needs and wants, just like he had done it all these years. She frowned, not liking it one bit. God, men can be so stupid sometimes. Didn’t he realize that when she agreed to kiss him, she had actually let him enter a boundary that was previously banned for him? Why did he still need to protect her? Maybe because he is so used to it and he thinks he can frighten her, the answer came instantly to her, as she recalled how he was about to apologize earlier when she had come upstairs. She wanted to slap her forehead, or maybe the better alternative would be to pinch him, hard, to awaken him to the reality that she didn’t want to be protected anymore. For now, at least, she wouldn’t let him draw her away, she decided.

Even as his fingers tightened on her waist, and he drew in a breath to tell her that they should leave, she clutched him tighter and looked up, “Sameer…”, she whispered, the light spilling from the room creating a halo around her.

He paused, mesmerized by her eyes, the glow on her face, “hmmm.”

“Hum jaaye usse pehle ek baar wapas kiss karoge?”, she asked softly, unwrapping her hands from around his waist, and skimming them up his chest to his shoulders.

He shivered, his body responding strongly at her demand. Even as he bent, her arms wound around his neck, fingers threading through the hair at his nape, his own arms locked around her, and he covered her mouth with his. Her eager response seared him. She knew what to do now; her lips parted, allowing him entrance, where she met him with soft, welcoming touches of her own tongue. He couldn’t believe that they had kissed for the first time today, but they had, and the knowledge almost drove him as crazy as the feel of her soft breasts flattening against his chest. She drowned in sheer ecstasy of being in his arms like this. His mouth was hungry and hard, taking long deep kisses that left her clinging to him mindlessly. His one hand held her tight against him and the other hand stroked surely up the side of her body and down again. She was on her toes, pressed against him, and her kurti had stretched up, as his hand slid down her body, to her waist, his fingers suddenly touched the bare skin of her waist through the side slit. He shuddered and so did she, he didn’t stop kissing her, but his hand tentatively explored her soft skin, fingers sliding through the slit and stroking her. She moaned in his mouth, squirming slightly, curling into his body and he groaned, the sound rough. He jerked his head back, removing his hand from her waist and sliding it through her hair. His eyes were closed, and he was shaking like a leaf in a windy night, “I have to stop. Now.” He felt her nod against his chest, her breathing erratic, and he realized she was also trembling.

As they separated after a few minutes, he looked up at the sky and smiled, “tumhara dhruv tara aa gaya.” She looked up too and indeed, the big star was twinkling down at them, its guiding light always present for their love story.

After some time, they went downstairs, and she blushed furiously when they had to literally hunt for her rubber band, that Sameer had pulled off from her hair. Finally, Sameer shifted the sofa a bit, and they found it underneath. Half-heartedly, he drove her back, talking again about the furniture rather than delving on their kiss. They both knew that tonight all they would be thinking of was what had happened between them, but for now they didn’t want to dissect it. As the car stopped, he smiled recalling something and turned towards her, “Naina, tumhe yaad hai hamare date ke baad jab maine tumko yahan drop kiya aur kiss ki baat ki thi, tab tum kitna ghabra gayi thi?”, he laughed remembering her stunned expression.

She glared at him for a moment, then laughed herself, “haan, aur tumhe bada maza aa raha tha mujhe pareshan karne me.”

He grinned, “haaye meri woh bholi si Naina”, he put his elbow on the steering wheel, leaning his cheek on his closed fist, as if reminiscing, “kahan kho gai?” He looked wickedly at her, “yeh wali to saamne se kiss maangti hai.”

She opened and closed her mouth, gaping at him, astonished by his teasing, then flushed crimson at her own behaviour today. He laughed, stroking a finger on her cheek, as if he could pick off the red tinge from her skin, “mujhe yeh wali Naina bhi bahot pasand hai”, he said softly.

He went upstairs with her, his hand on her back, and before ringing the doorbell he looked around, seeing the doors for all apartments closed because of winters, he quickly leaned and pressed a kiss to her forehead. She smiled and rang the bell. He talked to Chachaji and Chachiji for a couple of minutes, refusing invitation to sit, then glanced once more at Naina and left from there. She rushed off into her room, out to the balcony, to see him. He looked up before opening the car door and grinned, leaning against the car for a moment to look at her. She opened her hair, pulling it over her shoulder, and blew him a good night kiss. His dark eyes sparkled in appreciation, even though she couldn’t see it from the distance, but he returned her kiss with equal enthusiasm. Then he was inside the car, and gone, she stood there until she could see the tail lights disappear around the corner.

Preeti literally jumped on her as she entered the room again, “jaldi bata kya kiya. Saare details”, she demanded.

Naina raised her eyebrows innocently, “furniture select kar liye saare, aur fir saath me dinner karne gaye the restaurant me.”

“Hey bhagwaan”, Preeti slapped her forehead, “kya hoga tera? Ek kiss to kiya hoga na Naina?”

“Ummm…”, Naina opened the cupboard to pull out her night dress, “woh sab shaadi ke baad”, she said firmly and disappeared into the bathroom ignoring further questions from her sister.

Sameer pushed down the mattress on the floor, that was kept against the wall since his bed broke, and dusted it, then spread a bed-sheet over it and arranged the pillows. He was not going anywhere from this room. But first, he needed a shower, preferably a cold one. He pulled off his clothes, then stepped into his bathroom, and set the water to lukewarm given the weather, and stepped under it. His mind immediately flashed back to their kisses. God. She was so responsive. If she could clutch him like that and squirm against him, just by a kiss, then what would she do when he would make love to her. Probably, she would set him on fire. He had thought she would be scared of his response, but she wasn’t, not even one bit, instead she had curled into him even more. He shuddered. It was useless, warm water wouldn’t help, he turned the knob to cold.

How did she know these things? And what exactly did she know? His eyes narrowed, as he dragged a hand through his wet hair. She had mentioned about Ramdhari visiting his relatives like last time. So, she knew he had been lying to her. How? What else she knew? Had she understood his plans to introduce her to intimacy? No. She couldn’t. How could she? But, then how did she know about kissing? And if she knew then was she teasing him that day with that hand kiss conversation? She hadn’t been scared today. She had taken some time to kiss him back, and that was expected. It showed she wasn’t aware how to kiss, but clearly, she knew about kissing. He turned off the shower. Inexperience wasn’t the same as ignorance. Was that the case with her? He looked at his own reflection in the mirror, as he rubbed himself dry. Maybe, they needed to talk about it. After all, talking about these things was one part of relationship, a necessity for her to be comfortable with him in every way. And she had asked a question to him today, he would answer her, and that can be the beginning of their conversations.

The light bulb flickered and turned off with a small sound. What the hell. He strode outside, pulling on his track pants, then grabbed a torch and went back in. He pressed the switch, repeatedly, it had fused. Maybe he should get the electrical wiring changed, it was old, and yesterday also the light in another room had fused. If lights fused like this at night when Naina came to live here, she could be scared. He turned to leave but stopped staring at the sink. The torch light showed a small sink with a cabinet on top, that held his brush, deo and shaving kit. He flashed the light around, the shower area was spacious, but the shower itself was old, with a slippery knob that made it difficult to adjust temperatures, the tiles were old and plain. He scowled. It wasn’t fit for a family. There was nothing, not even a bath tub. His overactive imagination produced an image of Naina submerged in bubbles, and him stepping into the bathroom to just enjoy the sight after a tiring day. He laughed softly. He should stop thinking like that, else he would need another cold shower. He didn’t mind bathing in the dark, but he didn’t want to.

The phone rang, distracting him, and he rushed out knowing it was Naina. “Hello”, he shivered slightly because of cold.

“Hi”, she smiled clutching her knitted shawl around her.

“Ek minute do na”, he kept the receiver on the table and grabbed a t-shirt from the cupboard, pulling it on, “sorry, t-shirt pehen raha tha”, he said picking up the receiver again.

Her breath hitched as she imagined him shirtless, “t-shirt?”, she mumbled.

“Haan. Abhi shower se bahar nikla na”, he said clueless about the effect on her.

Oh dear. This wasn’t good. First shirtless, and then him in shower. She cleared her throat, trying to keep her voice stable, “umm… okay”, but a tremble gave away.

He frowned at her voice, then grinned as he understood what she was thinking, “waise main soch raha hun bathroom ko thoda renovate karva du”, he started to play.

She sighed, thinking he hadn’t caught on to her state, “kyun?”, she quizzed.

He sat down, “ab sirf main shower le raha tha yeh sunke tumhara aisa haal hai, to soch raha tha shaadi ke baad bathroom me bhi thodi extra jagah honi chahiye na.”

She dropped the receiver, and he laughed out loud. She scowled, able to hear his laughter from the dropped receiver. Oooh. She should have pinched him today when she had the chance. But then she smiled, her eyes glittered, as she picked up the receiver again, “hmmm… haan. Honi chahiye jagah”, she agreed, “aur ek bath tub bhi hona chahiye.”

His laughter caught in his throat, “Kya?”

“Bath tub”, she repeated, “mujhe na bada man hai bath tub me nahaneka. Socho na kitna maza aata hoga. Preeti ke parlor me woh kuch bubble bath aur essential oils bhi milte hai. Mera to try karneka man kar karta hai.”

He sat silent, clutching the receiver, the images returning to his brain with such clarity that he felt as if he could almost smell the scented bubbles. She smiled, knowing she had succeeded. After all, if she was going to be sleepless thinking of him without a shirt, then he should also be awake the whole night thinking of her in a bath tub.

“Achcha suno, Chachiji uth gai hai”, she lied, “main rakhti hun. Kal baat karenge. Bye.”

“Bye sweetheart”, he said automatically.

A minute later, he muttered a curse, pulling off his clothes again, and grabbed the torch, stepping into the dark bathroom for another round of cold shower.