Tanhaiyan | neirohi

38. name

"Chipkali, handover a shirt from the cupboard rey!"

Searching for her identity proofs, she rolled her eyes picking a random one and throwing it towards the door ajar. No sooner than a minute, he shrieked again, "Yeh floral print mera nahi hain!"

For a person who forgot to set up an alarm and was now running late for office, he sure was panicking for every right reason. Meanwhile, the one who was awake from four in the morning was busy with some last minute revision since the D-day was here.

His empty side of the cupboard got her frustrated as she yelled out, "It's empty here!"

Stepping out with the security of his towel, he rummaged through the shelves from top to bottom, leaving no corners. Running his hands through his hair, he let out a frustrated groan. He knew the laundry bag was full and he had procrastinated with the washing. But he did remember spotting two-three lighter shade shirts at some corner.

"White waale saare kaha gaye?"

"They were unusable. Tumhee ne toh saare white and colored waale mix kiye teh? It was an ugly shade of lime-green when it came out of the machine."

"Okay, but where is it?"

"Using it as the pocha in the kitchen, notice nahi kiya?"

At that his jaw hit the ground. So this is how his clothes were disappearing. She pushed back her hair, searching for her Aadhar card which she had to show at the entrance of the exam centre. Finding it finally, she went ahead with selecting the clothes she had to wear for the day while he sat back on the bed, discarding all the worries he had and watching her.

"Where is that pale blue top I had? The one with half-sleeves?"

She muttered to herself, grumbling about all the dress codes they put up. She had bought this one specifically for the exam since her wardrobe was majorly stocked with black or multi-print. Snapping his fingers, he pointed at the top shelf, "It's there on the top, behind that photo." Toes placed on the middle rack, she stood on the shelves, digging up what she was looking for and throwing it towards the bed. Or unfortunately, on his face. Getting rid of the cloth with a musty smell, the sign of its infrequent use, he stood ready to whine but stopped on watching her run her fingers on the frame of the still captured years ago.

"Love you," she whispered, kissing the joint frame of her parents and siblings, eyes slightly moist. Placing it back she sighed. Slowly and steadily she was setting things right, or rather they.

Around a month since the days she broke down and how they carried forward from that. To heal, at their own pace. To learn how to love and how to not fall weak in love. They were still learning, and will continue to do so. This fight—it was hers, it was his, it was theirs.

An arm wrapped around her stomach, bringing her down, "Don't break your bones before the exam itself." Her feet touched the wooden flooring as she took note of the real issue here. Stepping back, her head tilted as she commented, "Toh janaab jee, for all these days how were you surviving without clothes huh?"

"Tumhaara use kar raha t—"

He bit back his tongue, shutting his eyes. Her eyebrow which shot up told him that he was never hearing the end of it. No wonder he knew exactly where her which cloth was, after all she was not the only one in need. No wonder how her things were misplaced, or an organized mess as he preferred to call. Unwrapping the gift package which was securely locked in her drawer, she handed over the navy blue shirt.

"Bought it as a gift for Kairav bhaiya, might be a bit big for you chamgadar, but kaam chala jaayega."

"But—"