The Moon to my night

34

∞little achari mayo∞

Aradhaya Singh Rajvansh

"My dear Dhaya,

Five days, my love, five days, without you and away from you. It felt as if someone squeezed my lungs and pulled them out, making me lose my breath. My mind wandered in the pile of files and meeting halls while my heart could only think of what you might be doing at the time.

Loving you has become a better way of living. When I don't see you, I feel my day never began, my sun didn't rise. These mirrors of technology and that smile of yours—you won't believe how bad I wish to kiss you, hug you, and squeeze you in between my arms.

I know you are smiling, damn that smile. I know you are giggling now. I know now you wish to kick your feet in the air and giggle, maybe kiss this note too and save it in that vintage box of yours.

Now you might be thinking, how I may know about it all. Well, you can say, I like to know the woman I love, know her like she doesn't even know herself. Looking forward to meeting you with the same vibrant smile on your lips.

Yours,

Ansh."

Seven years ago, when we were in college, together and happy, he went to Mumbai for a business trip with his father for five days. For those five days, he had compensatory notes written for me that he gave me on the sixth day. Everything was so beautiful, so dreamy, so perfect. He had me, I had him, and we barely needed anything from the world.

But unlike the time I got this note, I am not reading it with a blush on my cheeks but with tears staining them. I wonder: it was only five days, and he missed me like anything. How has he lived for the last seven years? I wonder what drew us so far from each other. Right now, I don't even know if the paper I am holding in my hand, which I had stored with other notes and the petals of white roses—dried but still there in that vintage wooden box—is real.

I shut the box, securing the note back in it again, and keeping it in the farthest corner of my wardrobe, where it has rested for the past years.

Today felt so normal. I didn't feel even an inch of distance between us until he asked me about my time back in the US. It felt as if someone flashed the time before my eyes, and the best I knew to do was just run from there. A part of me just wanted to tell him all—how it was, how tough it was—but at the same time, do I trust him?

Like he asked me before, and I didn't give an answer. Because the first thing that came to my mind was that no, I don't trust you, but I really want to. Because the part that wants to trust him again is also scared. What will happen if that trust breaks again? What if it all happens again, and once again I get left with nothing?

The days went by in a haze, and it was already Sunday night. I didn't get to talk to him after I came back from his penthouse. The whole Friday was spent with Aahana, sorting out designs and fabric availability. Bhai left for Bangalore for his three-week trip to finalize an expansion he has been planning with the IT company. The weekend arrived, and I spent it with my best friend and the twins. Shravan Bhai and Ridhima Bhabhi were back from their honeymoon, and we crashed at Nani's house for Saturday night. It was a fun movie night with the couple, telling Ridhima Bhabhi all our childhood stories.

I was packing my bag for a one-week trip to Delhi, which I was leaving for early in the morning. He was going to drive, and I didn't have any problem with it. Being in the same car with him for a six-hour long drive is manageable as long as he doesn't bring up any topic that wouldn't interest me. Everyone at home was relieved that he was accompanying me. I wonder what they see in him to be so confident about him. I mean, yes, he is someone to be admired by every family, but geez, if you get to know this man's intentions, you'd realize all he wants is to take your daughter away from you all. You wouldn't shower that much love on him.