MY FOREVER WITH YOU

CHAPTER-13

ARJUN

"The past is a place of reference, not a place of residence; the past is a place of learning, not a place of living."

"Good evening Kuwar sa."*

I sigh tiredly looking back at the sixty plus, old man. It's been many years of constantly objecting him over these formalities, still the head butler and rest of the residence staff don't change their way of addressing me. The true heir of this family is to be entitled, not me.

After giving some thought and getting many- all kind of threatening, emotional messages from mom I finally gave in to return back home.

Ignoring my silent objection, Brijesh kaka* walks past, switching on the staircase lights. Obviously he won't give up, I mean fourteen years of my repeated request has not changed their minds. 

It was nearly midnight by the time I reached home. One of the reason being Rajvansh mansion is far from Pritvi's place. Though the main reason is, I don't want to deal with anyone soon.

It takes me time to get emotionally and mentally adjusted to this mansion and its people.

Nothing was new from my last visit of maybe a month before, mom doesn't prefer frequent changes to the décor. I was glad she was the one doing majority of interior designing and layouts by including indoor plants, many tall glass windows facing directly the well maintained greenery rich backyard. 

Especially, for not accepting any of the Shivani Bua's* recommendation in the new layout. I mentally shudder even to the imagination of it. If it were to her, this mansion would turn into those over pricey hotels. Reflecting exactly like most members of this family. They have too grand taste for even tiniest things. Nothing would have appeared homely or provide the warm vibe one should actually feel.

Price tags and perfection define their choices for literally everything in their lives. For them if a single plate would have broken then the whole cutlery set would seem worthless. Typical snobs.

 For the next two days, I have to bear them. I let go of those thoughts as it was already making me cringe. Two steps I get to take in the direction of stairs leading to my room before someone cross my way. I groan stepping back and lifting my eyes to her. 

She quirks her left eyebrow, I smile on the fact that few of my similar habits comes from this woman. Even if we're nowhere biologically related.

She doesn't give me time before squeezing me in her arms, my hands get trapped in between us. So I'm left with option of just standing. She was taller than dad, almost reaching my shoulder and a lot lighter in weight. Also an absolute fitness freak for her age. 

A frown tugs my brows as I feel little wetness on my chest, I curse myself for being the reason.

"Yamini, just because I can't see your face it doesn't make you any less ugly while crying."

My silly attempt to uplift her mood succeed as she chuckles. While pulling away from me, she smacks my chest. I maybe much taller and physically stronger than her but her tears hold the power to make me fall down on my knees in mere seconds. 

She sniffles running her gaze from my head to toe. It was the first thing she'd do, inspecting for any fresh scars or noticeable difference in my weight or health.

Earlier all those years back, I used to get extremely nervous thinking she was trying to judge my appearance in disdain like many people did in my younger years.

But no, fourteen years back of that scrawny kid or now of six feet two inches man- it is still the familiar worry I see in her eyes. She was and is my mother, treating me like her own son. If only, I was courageous to admit it openly.