AADAT ~ Kshiteej Kabra

CHAPTER 2

"Bohat sundar hain Abhi, dekh."

"At Hotel Radison Blue – Sunday"

"Vikram Chandra weds Kavya Kh...."

Before his mother could complete her statement, Abhi suddenly turned up his face. His mother stared at him while he paused for a minute and then took hold of the wedding card.

"Vikram Chandra weds Kavya Khanna" he spoke, with a tear in his eyes that fell on the card.

He decisively got up from the bed, dropped the card back and rushing out of the room, shouted – "Main terrace pe jaa raha hoon, thodi der mein aaunga."

His mother hurried behind shouting – "Abhi beta sun toh le, Abhi..."

He suddenly turned back with his dreary eyes, while she spoke, "Beta, main samajh sakti hoon tujhe,

Par ab uss baat ko 5 saal ho chuke hain" she was herself depressed, for the state of her son.

"Toh kya karu Maa" Abhi spoke loudly, which he generally never used to.

"Kaise bhul jaaon, kaise sab kuch peeche chod du, mujhse nahi ho payenga." He replied firmly.

There was an intense-dreary conversation between a mother and her son, wherein both of them were angry and gloomy, nevertheless not on each other.

At the end, his mom spoke – "Beta par zindagi bhar tu, usse dil mein daba ke nahi rakh sakta."

"Logon se mil, koi aur ladki hongi, tu samajhta kyu nahi hain" she spoke.

"Kya samjhu main Maa?" Abhi asked.

"Yahi beta, ki main tujhe aise dukhi nahi dekh sakti.

Tu pehle jaisa ABHI nahi raha. Main chahti hoon ki tu dil se khush rahe, bas" she actually joined her hands, in front of her son, for his own sake.

They both hugged each other, as tears flooded from their eyes.

He left abruptly, climbing up the stairs, to the terrace of their 6 storey building.

He walked on the uppermost-small terrace and standing on the edge, loosening his tie, unbuttoning his first 2 buttons of his black shirt, merely opened his arms, as if he was embracing someone, just looking back to check, if no one was seeing him –

Just like him, on the other hand –

I, Ayesha, stared at myself, in the looking glass of my hostel room, the room on the 2nd floor of our 4 storey building.

It had been a week or so, since I had come to Mumbai and I was living with Shreya itself, in the same flat.

It was a good 2-BHK flat, where 3 girls used to live – but since 2 of them, had completed their education this year itself – now at present, it was only me and Shreya.

And there I was today, typing some rhythmic poetry, on my laptop – just smiling at my present life.

Also, to all my readers –

Writing is my favorite hobby, my utmost passion and the most loveable thing I do in my life.

I always wanted to be an author, but the circumstances never allowed me, to become one.

Not only my parents but also my friends and relatives motivated and appreciated me for all my skills, including my beauty and appearance, BUT EXCLUDING ONE HOBBY – WRITING.

With some good boundary-pass scores, I got an admission in IIM INDORE –the most prestigious institution – for completing my MBA.

And as I said, there I was – in Mumbai – with a good job, some good friends, a good first-sight infatuation but one of the most depressed past.

I opened my cupboard, and from the internal section, below some of my other articles, I removed my clandestine asset.

I do possess this clandestine asset - one small/medium sized red bag – which is always locked, since it consists of all my secrets, the ones which I have neither shared with my family nor my friends.

The key to this lock is always with me, (though I cannot reveal – where I keep it). This bag has my secret diary and some of my other important belongings, as well.

I removed a pink cardboard box from the bag – and took out the most important yet secretive instrument used by the women.

The pink PREGA NEWS.

Yes, the instrument which offers them an assumption – whether they will experience the most exciting period of their lives – motherhood.

I still remember the glass of this instrument – t – which showed 2 parallel pink lines – against both the letters – T and C.

These 2 pink parallel lines – create an assumption than the woman is pregnant.

My eyes turned watery as I wiped my face, closed the door of my room – strolled out rapidly, climbed the stairs and finally – I was standing at the edge of my terrace.

Certainly, both of us, were standing on our respective top floors of the skyscrapers of Mumbai.

Both of us had watery eyes and broken hearts.

And finally, both of us – at our respective terraces - with our full strength and guilt, which he had embodied deep down in our heart - cried and yelled and screamed–

(please scroll down)

"I

Am

Sorry

Kavyaaaaaaaaaa (Kavya)

I

Love

You"

(Please scroll down)

Abhimanyu's mom asked him to be happy from his heart (Dil) –

"Badi Mushkil se Mila Hoon main khudse,

Ab Main dil ki baton pe,

Bharosa nahi karta!"

TO BE CONTINUED IN THE NEXT CHAPTER.