Tanhaiyan | neirohi

3. chipkali trait

Looking around leisurely, he had to admit that this chipkali did have a great taste. The place was well maintained. Spotlessly tidy and clean. Were all doctors like this? Unnaturally organized? The likes he had come across certainly were.

Everything organized on the outside and the opposite on the inside.

The 2BHK apartment surely was small, almost like a bacteria when compared to the majestic mansions of Goenkas and Birlas, but that did not matter. The place was surprisingly comfortable. Just a little less vibrant.

No worries.

He plopped down on the cushions. He did want to take a shower but felt hesitant to barge into the interiors of the house. As of now, he was still a guest. Though he did manage to take liberties more often than not, he still had enough etiquettes to take the host's permission before barging into their homes. What to do? Four years and to live without getting beaten up by his brother for entering the couple's room without knocking, he did learn his lesson.

Unfortunately, this time, his host was nowhere in sight.

One phone call right when they stepped in and off she went to the hospital. No explanations, no apologies. A bit miffed he was for sure. Then again, coming from a family of doctors, he had seen this his whole life.

His stomach gave out a growl. Air India's omlette-of-some-sort recipe was not enough to keep him content. Was it wrong to go through someone else's fridge? Surely not, right? It was not as if he was going through someone's phone. Not like he was invading anyone's privacy by inspecting their fridge. And to his defense, chipkali was still not back after two hours. It was three in the morning already.

Could he just—?

No Neil, no. That's rude.

Going through someone's eatables was not rude.

What if she had dead bodies hidden inside her fridge?

"Firstly, fit nahi honge. Secondly, it's cadavers."

"Kyon? Are dead bodies too middle-class?"

When chipkali and chamgadar were around, could eye-rolls be kept far behind? And so in response, he was awarded with one. He watched her move to the balcony, keeping the umbrella to dry. Not even an adequate reply to his brilliant sense of humor.

Could he survive at a place where Maya Sarabhai was disrespected like this?

"You did not freshen up yet?"

Did this woman have dementia of some kind? Did she really forget that he was left stranded in her drawing room?

Before he could come up with an answer, she shooed him away stating that she had to use the washroom as well. Showing him the way to the washroom, she proceeded with heating up the food and setting it out on the table. Just as she sat down at the dining table, she saw him walk out.

Settling down for a platter of rotis and dal, he tore the pieces generously and dunked them into the lentil soup bowl.

"You cooked this?"

"Why do you want to know that?"

"Bas aise hee."

The questioning session stopped right there. If she was not in a mood to entertain a civil conversation, why should he bother? And he knew, he just knew. Ma was absolutely, terribly wrong about this relationship working out. Not with a partner who was ready to bite off his head.

She stood up abruptly.

"I'm gonna go take a shower. Also, we have to talk."

There was no escaping. Both of them knew that. Evading it for two months was one thing, how long could they run away? Where would they stop at this rate? It was time now. He nodded, better late than never.

Stuffing the remaining food, he made sure that the plate was as clean as it was before. The food was great. Washing the plate, he was taken aback by the ice cold water. Of course, it had just rained. What was he even expecting? The sound of his ring tone made him speedup the process. Managing to attend it right before it went beeping.

"Neil?"

"Ha bhai?"

"Tu zinda hai?"

The question got him burst out laughing. Which in turn got his toe stubbed. Swearing out loud, he tripped and fell face first onto the sofa. Holding onto his swelling toe, he winced.

"Bhai, five minutes ago I was. Abh pata nahi."

"Oh, collison and fall. Your style."

"K-kya matlab?"

"Nothing nothing. Tu bata. Is everything alright there? Jaan toh na le li usne teri already?"

"As of now, no. If I send a help text to you, samajh lena bhai."

"What?"

"Just let bhabhi know that my gravestone should have a special dedication to her Kachoris."

"Chal bhabhi ke devar. And no, before you ask itself I'm telling you. Nahi dunga usko phone. With great difficulty I've managed to get rid of her Neil ka kya hoga dose of today."

With a yawn, the sleepy lad replied, "Yeah, yeah. You're just jealous bhai."

Sensing that he was sleepy and probably jet-lagged as well, Abhimanyu Birla chose to be the considerate older brother and kept down the phone. Of course, not before ending the call with the assurance that in case his wife's sister went crazy, he was just a call away. Neil chuckled in response and gave out yawn once again, having a look at the clock striking four.

Was she taking a shower or building the washroom tile by tile?

Deciding to close his eyes for thirty seconds, he never knew it would end up as a seven-hour sleep session.

And that's how she found him. Sleeping soundly on the sofa. "So much for asking to wait to up," she muttered adding her eye roll to it. Clasping the lock of her watch, she rushed around the house. It was five already and she had to be there at the hospital in another thirty minutes.

Grabbing a sticky note, she left behind the message. Now where to stick it was the question. How to make sure it would be kept at a place where this chamgadar won't miss it out? She was sure that even if it was kept right in front of his eyes, he would never come across it.

Her lips twitched when she got the idea.

Cat like footsteps she had, careful enough to not get caught. Pressing it on his frown lines, she was certain that he would spot it now. Who could miss a sticky note sticking on their forehead? Biting her cheeks to not let out her giggles, she walked out closing the door.

The tiny lizard peeked from his home under the Aloe leaves. His promised partner in crime was not proving to be a worthy opponent in the tussle game. Yes, Aarohi Goenka-Birla did earn herself a point by the sticky note stunt.

"Someone has to up their game," mused the lizard as his tail waddled with disappointment. An eye roll followed.

Truly, a chipkali trait.

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