Anaya Singh, neither model like body nor a fat one just enough muscle not your any cliche girl either loved or hated, her life is just complicated, one of the best in her field of work of solving problems and improving the already solved matters by...
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Numb, can be the word which is doing half justice to what I am feeling right now and the other half could not be justified by any word except for what I am going through.
The video of teenage me and my dadaji displaying on the projector which was shooted mistakenly when I was the one behind the camera recording the festivities and then asked about the aarti thal to my bua dadi and then I realised that I dig myself my own grave, where both of us started having a banter, he scolding me for not knowing proper relativities of religious things that too something meagre as making pooja thal for raksha bandhan's eve beforehand.
And me being me reverting back in all my glory and supporting the camera on the side table capturing the main living room "humein kya pata tha ki staff ne ya kisi aur ne nahi lagai thali."
"Baaki sab pata rehta hai bas ye nahi tha." Him not at all ready to leave the last word.
"Arrey dadaji bas karoo la to rahe hain na ab bas." But I too am his granddaughter.
Surprisingly he stopped and this thing at that time never occurred to me why?
But after he was gone and was never gonna come back to answer the question it blinked my mind while watching the video for umpteenth time.
It always clicked whenever the video played either on the screen or in my mind but excused it with 'certain things are meant to be unanswered.'
But right now it all seems that it was me who was trying to excuse myself from the realization that he stopped because he thought it was of no use.
There are chances I can be wrong too but it all makes sense, with all the things I am thinking to do after what all happened after I returned back.
3 hours ago
I have never been this nervous in my entire life entering this mansion with all the worried looks sahil bhai passed my way during the flight.
All the filmy scenes which I thought were just filmy proved a little too realistic to me when the air grew thicker than it already was the moment I entered the living room where surprisingly my dad Akhilesh Singh Rajawat and uncle Rahil Singh Rajawat both were seated awaiting my presence I guess.
"चच्चू।" (chachhu) People always tend to correct me to call him chachu but I have a habit of calling him this from the time I can remember.
He stood up and made his towards me and engulfed me in a Buffy hug.
Chachhu is a muscly man even in his late forties with tight muscles visibly outlining themselves from his light green checkered coat unlike my father who is a very fit man for his age but not muscly enough with abs and everything so you get the idea.
