Na Jaane Kyon...

Pal pal dil ke paas tum rehti ho

"Didi, yeh kapde le lo." The lady called out from the door, holding the bundle of ironed clothes.

"Kitne paise hue aapke?" Naina put aside the lot and asked, opening her wallet.

"Didi, aaj ek safed shirt thi aapke kapdon mein. Aapki hi hai ya galti se kisi aur ki aa gayi aapke paas?" The lady asked with furrowed brows, cupping her chin.

Naina fetched out a hundred rupee note and held it to her, "Meri hai."

"Oh!" She brightened, "Lagta hai aapke pati aaye hain Dubai se? Toh ek hi shirt kyon di? Baaki kapde kisi aur se press karwaye kya? Mujhe kyon nahi diye?"

"Aapko kisne kaha... matlab Dubai mein..." Naina remembered very well that she had mentioned this only to Bhalla aunty.

"Woh Roshni hai na neeche, ussi ne bataya tha. Pehle mujhe bhi laga ki koi bachhe ke saath akele... woh bhi itni choti umr mein... phir usne bataya aapke pati Dubai mein rehte hain." The lady gave her a relieved look, as if Naina's being alone was her biggest worry.

"Yeh... woh... ek rishtedaar ki hai. Ek din ke liye aaye the. Chale gaye." Naina handed her the note and closed the door.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she rubbed her forehead, "Ek shirt na hui, mahabharat ho gayi. Inko bhi jhoot ki list mein add karo ab. Aise chalta raha toh yahan rehna mushkil ho jayega." She looked around the house, her eyes turning moist, "I don't want to go from here."

It was around five in the evening when her phone beeped announcing a message.

'Naina, I was passing through your house. Is it okay to pick my clothes now? I can come over for a minute, only if it isn't an inconvenience."

Her first thought was to say that she was busy. Ayush was sleeping and she was jotting down something in her diary. But then her mind voice reminded her that the person in question was her boss... and he was asking in more than polite manner.

'Sure sir. There's no problem. Please come.' She typed back.

The bell rang in less than five minutes.

Wearing a short white cotton jumpsuit, when Naina opened the door, Sameer couldn't take his eyes away from her. Slightly messy hair framed her absolutely clear and glowing face... eyes seemed a little hooded though.

"I... I hope I didn't wake you up." He stuttered, hiding his breathlessness behind words.

"Main so nahi rahi thi... bas kuch likh rahi thi. Aap aaiye." She smiled pleasantly, making his heart skip a beat.

"Woh... main..." He pointed towards the guest room, swallowing to soothe his dry throat.

"Yeah." She stepped back, letting him enter the room.

He had left his clothes on the bed, but now they were on the couch, neatly folded. His heart was again thumping at a faster pace, thinking about her long fingers around his clothes as she must have folded them.

"Umm... woh aapki shirt... I'm sorry woh galti se wash ho gayi. Actually Ayush ne dekha aur pucha... mujhe laga woh apni shirt ke liye bol raha hai... aur maine kaha machine mein daal de. Machine on karte waqt apne kapdon ke beech nazar nahi aayi aur... lekin maine iron karwa di hai. It's perfectly fine... kharab nahi hui." She explained haltingly, when he held the ironed shirt, his eyes furrowed.

"Oh!" Was all he could utter. Suddenly the shirt was very dear to him.

Carefully placing it in the bag, he attempted to zip it with trembling fingers, his heartbeat at a breakneck speed now... it all seemed so homely. He clutched the strap of the bag... his hands itching to turn and pull her in his arms. If her tousled, out of bed look had left him shaken, this information had stirred a new longing in him.