Ranjish He Sahi

Phir Bhi Kabhi - Part II

The dinner date was beautiful and quite unlike something Meerab had expected, especially because despite being married for a couple of months, neither she nor Murtasim had quite gotten over their shyness to truly understand each other that well. Barring the occasional conversations and light banter they were still averse to opening up to each other, which is why his efforts had left her rather touched. 

As she sat in front of the mirror lost in thought about the beautiful night that was, she recollected every little conversation they'd had, every small and big secret they'd shared. Murtasim told her about his favourite dish mutton karahi and about his passion for photography which he had to reluctantly give up after his father passed away rather unexpectedly. She remembered his eyes twinkling at the mere mention of shayaris and how he'd impishly admitted to writing them throughout college and even now, if and when life and time would permit. He'd promised to show her some of his amateur work too, even suggesting that that life was giving him newer opportunities to take up the pen these days.

She couldn't help but smile on remembering her calling him her 'officially wedded husband' in reply to his 'officially wedded wife'. Despite it being unlike her usual self, she'd known hearing it made his day and a part of her actually didn't shy away from calling him her 'husband,' even though she wasn't one of those people who would openly say it, lest to please people. 

As she sat combing her hair and smiling, lost in memories of the previous night, she hadn't noticed him enter their room and stand behind her, eyes following her every move. 

'Kya soch rahi ho?' (What are you thinking?). Startled, she looked in the mirror to see him standing right behind her. 'Tum kab aye?'  (When did you come?) 'Bas, thori der pehle. Ake dekha tum kaafi khoyi hui ho. Kya soch rahi ho?' (Just a while back. Came and saw you were quite lost in thought. What are you thinking?) 'Nehi kuch nehi." (No, nothing). He didn't seem convinced. Slowly walking back to the bed, he sat down, eyes still on her. 'Kuch toh soch rahi thi tum. Kal ke bare mein?' (You were definitely thinking of something. Is it about yesterday?).

She looked back at him, a little embarrassed and shocked. What gave her away? A small cheeky smile crossed his lips when he realised that he had guessed right. 'Hai na?' (Isn't it?). Realising that she'd been caught she nodded a little and smiled, looking down in embarrassment.

Murtasim was enjoying teasing Meerab and going by her reactions he could tell she didn't mind it.  A part of him was feeling glad to see her let him in a little, allowing him to break through her walls. He didn't want to explicitly admit to her as yet, but their dinner date was special to him, as she'd opened up to him. Although it hurt him when he'd realised that Rohail would always hold a place in her life, he was glad to find a small footing, for now. She'd trusted him enough to let him know her deepest secret without worrying that she'd be judged.

She'd trusted him enough to let him be her friend, and for Murtasim it was that small victory that counted. He remembered her calling him 'officially wedded husband' in reply to his 'officially wedded wife' and despite it being true, it had made him happy to see her openly acknowledge it to him, instead of leaving him hanging. With it being an arranged marriage where they'd barely gotten to know each other, these small steps mattered to him, especially as he was getting used to her.

Murtasim had slowly begun understanding Meerab in more ways than he'd let on. He was picking up on her intricacies and silences. He knew when to tease her and when to let her be. Even though Maa Begum and the other elders in the family had insisted on teaching Meerab the ways of becoming Khaani quite early in their marriage to ensure she knew her position in the family and was aware of being second fiddle, Murtasim had always been quite clear in his head that under no circumstances would she be anything less than his equal. He didn't want her to be unsure of her place in the family or his life. And now that they were married, he intended on honouring his thoughts for her. First as a friend, then as her husband. 

Meerab turned away, facing the mirror once again, picked up her chain and said, 'Accha, niche chalo, nashte ke liye. Maa Begum ne bulaya hai.' (Okay, let's go down for breakfast. Maa Begum has called.) He noticed her struggling to wear the chain. Getting up from the bed, he slowly walked up to her and said, 'May I?'

Meerub looked up at him and noticed his palm extended as he implied her to give him the chain. As she slowly handed it over, he looked at it intently for a second and after undoing the clasp, turned to her. Making her sit down, he slowly removed her hair from the back, pushed it to the front and made her wear the chain. All the while, Meerab remained quiet, noticing him go about his 'work.'

Despite it being a very casual thing between a couple, Murtasim making her wear the chain made her feel a little something. It wasn't a feeling she could put to words just yet, or maybe she wasn't ready to put words to it. Living together as a couple for the last two months, Meerab was slowly beginning to get used to the idea of Murtasim doing such casual things. Even the other day she recollected him picking out a saree to wear for a wedding in the family. He did it in such a matter-of-fact way that it didn't seem like a big deal, yet when she'd sit and ponder over those moments, she couldn't help thinking of how their bond had organically grown to a point where these tender moments didn't bother her.

She looked at him, and noticed him questioning her raised eyebrows. 'Ab kya hua?' (Now what?). Smiling, she said, 'Kuch nehi. Chalo, chalte hai.' (Nothing. Let's go.).