Tanhaiyan | neirohi

17. re-write

She sat on the counter, wiping the just washed plates diligently.

The water running and his humming had become a common occurrence. The biggest proof of living existence the house has had in the past few years. No one could stop him from being cheery even while doing the dishes. Scrubbing the bowls, he was busy talking to them. Two or three casual comments on how well-groomed the bowls were.

"Chamgadar, they cannot talk back. I hope you know that."

"Those who can, don't bother doing as well. But one good thing is, bowls don't roll their eyes."

That only got him another eye roll. Shaking his head, he realized that she was hopeless. The eyes were gorgeous no doubt, but wouldn't want them to fall out of their sockets with all the rolling. He continued with his humming as she sat on the counter, banging her legs against the cabinets below.

"Aarohi, stop doing that."

"What?"

"That," he said pointing at her legs.

She stopped at once. It was a bit evident that he was slightly miffed. During dinner he had, as always, asked her about work. There was nothing interesting going on in the hospital, unlike Birla medical center. With nothing to say she had just shrugged it off before he asked again. At one point she snapped, albeit a bit rudely.

He was alright with it, he had seen it before. That's a part of who she was, all the snapping. But that was before their seal the deal of becoming friends. It had been a smooth run from then on, even fun at times. But this was just unexpected, out of nowhere. Maybe it was his fault to expect anything at all.

Be the bigger person.

"Sorry."

In sync it was. The running water the only exchange between them as no one spoke a word post that. Everything about them was abrupt. Laughing together, like now, also were sudden happenings. It's just that something clicks. That's what friends do.

"You know, back when Kairav bhaiya, Akshu and me, when we used to have those chotu fights, all of us would be shouting together. With none of us backing down. Papa was the only one who could sort it out. He would yell statue silencing all of us, and we would fall for it everytime. And the statue-over would only happen when he taps our nose, that too after making fun of us to his heart's content."

His little recollection from past few weeks ago, had got her remember her good times. All of them centered around her parents, the best moments of her life. Especially when her father was around, those were the days.

"Like this?" he asked smiling, tapping her nose lightly and letting the foam stay there. She nodded, wiping the soap off with the back of her hand.

"Tell me something more about him."

He said, moving onto the glasses. He was curious, Kartik Goenka certainly seemed like an interesting man. His mere mention was making chipkali smile, it was obvious that the man must've had some charm. The more he heard, the more it seemed as if he was the connecting link between the three children. Especially the sisters. If he was here, would things have been different?

"Papa would've never agreed to let your bro take his Akshu away."

"Please chipkali ji. Bhai kisiko bhi mana sakta hai."

"Maybe," she added with uncertainty. Had the first Tilak mishap not occurred, her father might've agreed. But then again, for the sake of Akshara's happiness he would've reluctantly agreed later on, with the guilt of being torn apart between his two princesses.

Smart enough to switch the topic, he spoke up, "You know, our agency got this request from a big-shot food manufacturing company? An ad for their upcoming cereal venture. Just yesterday we were done with the research part and the creatives have taken over today."

"Oh?" was all she could say, oblivious to how things worked outside a hospital.

"Yeah," he continued the conversation, "so the target audience are children, that's what we finalized from our research. The creatives are thinking of going ahead with fairytale inspired graphics. They have been doing a good job putting Goldilocks in there, I guess."

The vivid pictures of the blonde haired girl and bear family enacted out by her father, popped into her mind. Her eyes shrunk at the recollection.

"You are making graphics on that home invader who ate cereals, broke things and fell asleep? Seriously? Well, that's one way to shove cereals down children's throats I suppose."

He had his jaw dropped, finding the summary quite... eccentric, if that was the right word.

"Woman, who in this world read fairytales for you?"

"Mostly Mumma. If Papa was around, he would enact it out. That's when it was fun actually. And always that same one old, Cinderella. I think it's because of that one story that I grew out of my obsession with princesses."

He did recall how the brothers always teamed up to read it out to Nishta. A young Nishta who had her dreams of twirling around in that blue gown and glassy shoes, which taiji refused to buy for her. She was so upset that day that she fell asleep crying and caught a cold as well. Eventually, baby Nishta had her brothers wrapped around her fingers who combined all their pocket-money to buy that one dress.

"Wadrobe malfunction and a weird kinda footwear mating ritual, that was the plot. Weird."

He could only stare at her. Horror, amusement and confusion combined. Who was this girl and where was she from? Finishing with the washing and wiping finally, he asked her for the towel. Cleaning his drenched hands, the towel kept away, he lend his hand to the highness who sat on top of the counter.

"Happy endings don't exist," she pointed out.

"They do. Only if you go looking for one chipkali."

She looked like she wanted to protest. Nevertheless, she gave in. Just once. This once. Hand in hand, a scene straight out of a fairytale, for just five seconds. Then again, with chipkali and chamgadar involved, could it be any less than a jungle story?

Stories need to be re-written.

Just the way they were ready to re-write theirs.

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