Tanhaiyan | neirohi

2. just like

Hiring a kaali-peeli, he showed the driver the address which his bhabhi had texted him. He busied himself with watching the rain drop slither against the window pane, fingers tracing the movement of the drop. Wordlessly proceeding with sending messages to his family that he had reached safe and sound and yes, no underground mafia had kidnapped him.

Mumbai stood tall, welcoming him with their showers. It had started drizzling back in the airport itself and now was turning into a full blown shower. Earphones plugged in, he watched the running buildings and lanes.

Eyes closed, he recalled how his life had turned upside down in the past two months.

All of which happened after a certain chipkali tickled her way back into his life.

Their families got them married out of nowhere. Literally. One fine day they had a sudden thought that two youngsters in their late twenties cannot stay unmarried, and bam! Let's get them married! That is exactly what happened.

Of course, not that there weren't any protests from both sides. Or at least from his side. No one was sure about what happened at the Goenkas' place. He had not refused openly but yes, he did have his opinion against the idea which he had put forth in front of his mother. However, Manjari being Manjari had coaxed him into agreeing. Just like she did few days ago.

"Neil beta, how long will you stay like this?"

"Like what Ma?"

"Aise, akele? I got you married so that you have someone with you just the way everyone else does. Not because I want you to stay away from that person. Then what's the point of this relation?"

"Ma whatever may be the case but leaving this family is out of question. I will not leave you behind no matter what. I'm not going to Mumbai. That's final."

"Neil, this is life. A journey with many bus-stops. And at the right time, you have to board the right bus. At the right time, you'll have to take the right route. If you end up missing all the buses, you'll be left behind all alone. Loneliness is something which can eat up a person, just like guilt."

"Ma I'll be okay as long as I have you. Plus, she might not want me there."

"Neil beta, samajhne ki koshish karo. Don't take this lightly. Till when can I be with you? If Abhi who never believed in marriage or love could give himself a chance, then why can't you? Suffering in loneliness is one thing. But suffering alone in spite of being surrounded by many people around you and being happy for everyone? That's worse. And no one can know that better than me."

Tear-stricken eyes met the comforting ones. She could see her reflection lie on her lap. Manjari ran her fingers through his hair, just the way she used to tend his little curls so many years ago.

"Neil, give yourself a chance. Please."

The whisper cut through his determination of staying behind. Taking her hands into his, he gave a light squeeze of assurance. And Manjari knew that her job was done.

The next he knew, he was on the flight from Udaipur to Mumbai.

Aarohi had left for Mumbai a month ago. That talk was the first one they had post-marriage. Frankly, the only one they had. She had her point on how she couldn't let this opportunity slip and he had his on how he couldn't leave everything behind. The conversation had ended with her laying out the choice in front of him. His 'no' was accepted cordially and she had left without looking back. She ain't the one to stay behind, he knew that since forever.

No regrets, just different choices. As always.

The Birlas were alright with her decision once they were out from the shock of a Birla family member actually resigning from their hospital. Yes, many laid the threats of quitting before but managed to return back, time and time again. They were even happier on knowing that Neil was staying back in Udaipur. Not that anything less was expected from him. However, the Goenkas were not happy. The morals of family sticking together seemingly disrupted by their own child did not leave a good taste in their mouths.

Persistent warnings and reminders of be back soon and call every hour was how the Birla lot bid him farewell. That was an overwhelming moment. He was half a mind to flip on his decision. But his mother's happy tears served the purpose of him not doing so.

The taxi came to an abrupt halt. Aashiyana society was the stop. Sector 9, B-wing. The cab driver knew his way around the city clearly. But the rain was still on and he did not have an umbrella in hand. The city was waiting for its mid-June showers but got hit in the first week itself. How unfortunate. His rucksack acting as his roof, he started pulling out the money from his wallet.

However, the tiny silver coins fell down into the water-clogged road. And the rain did not show any mercy on him. Kneeling down, he tried to pick up the slippery coins but the efforts were to no avail. Not only that but the rucksack refused to protect him as well. He got rid of it and focused on getting the coins out. And of course, 10/10 for getting drenched, head to toe.

And that's when the red umbrella shielded him.

Handing over the money to the cab driver, she pulled out the luggage for him. Once she was done, she checked from the corner of her eyes to see whether her guest was done with his experiments. Turns out, he was not. Her grip on the steel handle of the umbrella tightened at the gaze which drilled into her head. Eyes on the woman holding up the umbrella for him, he could only stare. Kindness of the slightest form from a chipkali like her, especially when he was at the receiving end, was worth enough to be down on the records.

If only he could have a glimpse of those eyes, then all his doubts on the genuineness of all her actions would be erased. Those eyes which never lie. Alas! The wind played its role, being the barrier and let her hair act the curtain. He could spot her walking away, like always. The first one to walk out. Things which never change. 

Rains of Mumbai were untimely and unseasonal yet left behind their charm. Always.

Just like her.

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