Darkhaast

~ 18 ~

Mahi giggled under her breath as the sun shined through the train windows. Abhimanyu's arm was still tightly wrapped around her waist, and his breath kept her neck warm.

"What's so funny?" His voice was hoarse in the mornings, she noticed. A little husky too.

"Nothing," Mahi squeked.

"Mahi."

"Your snore," her laughter was boundless, sending ripples of happiness through him.

"I do not."

"You do, too." She rose, fixing her hair. "Really loudly. Didn't Akshara tell you that?"

Akshu. Arya. Abhinav. Maa. Yesterday's arguments flooded his brain, and the gravity of their posture hit him. Guilt sped his heartbeats. He felt a hand bring him back.

"Don't think about last night too much."

'How'd she know what he was thinking?' Abhimanyu would never know.

"Nothing happened." He nodded along.

"Chalo, chalo. Train ko offload karna hai." The conductor ushered everyone off the train in Bangalore - its last stop. The yelling and cluster agitated Abhimanyu, so used to procedure and routine, not the organized chaos of the Indian Railway system. Watching Abhimanyu get lost in the crowd, tossed around by the collision of strangers, reminded Mahi of Naaz's first visit to Bangalore. She was 10 and excited to go home; her hand slipped from Mannat's. She wasn't even gone too long, maybe three minutes, and she started shouting "Mumma, Mumma!". It wasn't funny then. Now, seeing Abhimanyu with the same bewildered expression was.

Mahi grabbed Abhimanyu's hand and led him through.

"Chalo!"

"So bossy."

The smell of sandalwood oil and fragrances from many of Bangalore's gardens welcomed her. Then, she got a hint of that cigarette smoke in the air, and it felt all too familiar like she'd never left.

"Seedha hospital?" Abhimanyu expected her to drop him off at a hotel or visit her house first to freshen up and leave their luggage.

"Aur nahi to kya?" She paid the rickshaw driver with a 500 rupees tip. Like a child in a candy store, she bolted inside, leaving Abhimanyu in her dust.

"Aur ye samaan?" He gestured to their bags. His questions were shut down by the uproar caused by Mahi's entry. The hospital nurses engulfed her in a hug.

"Yeh milne ka session todha lamba laga, aap mere saath chalo." A male doctor, Dr. Kabir, introduced himself to Abhimanyu, taking their bags to his office. He was taller than Abhimanyu, with sterling black hair and a crisp jawline.

"Itna hungama iss pagal ke liya?"

Kabir laughed. "Haan, kya hai na, woh hum sab ki marzi ke khilaaf gayi thi na."

"Bhaagne mein mahir lagti hai. Bin bataye faisle lete hai. " Maybe it was their mutual fondness for Mahi, but Abhimanyu could tell they'd get along great.

"Bhabhi, mujhe aisa kyun lag raha hai ki aapke shohar meri shikayat laga rahe hai mera new boss ke saath." Mahi popped her head into Kabir's office, Shalini by her side.

"Sahi lag raha hai." Kabir quipped.

"Khadoos!" Kabir raised his hand in a playful slap threat. Mahi just stuck her tongue out. Like the Birla Hospital, Mahi clearly left her mark here, too.

Mahi strolled in and opened her luggage to grab fresh clothes. "I'll be ready in 5, and then we can go over to see Lieutenant Colonel Shergill and his family."

"Wow," Abhimanyu was awestruck when she returned in a saree. She looked magnificent in an olive green silk blouse adorned with a zebra-patterned pallu. He'd seen her in traditional wear before, never like this, though. Maybe it was the contrast between her messy ripped jeans and band-tee from this morning to the simple and refined saree. The glint in her eyes was the same.

"Chale?"

"Jai Hind, Sir." Mahi namasted the Lt. Col. Shergill with a namaste before touching his feet. He gave her his blessing before pulling her into a hug.

"Kaise hai meri beti." Mahi blinked away tears at the title. The last time they'd met was his funeral. She'd wanted to run away then, for the pitying eyes made her skin crawl. Now, she welcomed the comfort.

"Main theek hoon, Sir."

"Kya Sir bol rahi ho. I'm not on duty and was never your commanding officer."

"Aadat jaati nahi hai." She embraced Lt. Col.'s wife, Megha, as well. Abhimanyu noticed the elderly woman was dressed in a similar sharp saree. It was clear there were two communities in the room: the medical staff in civilian leisure or scrubs and the military family. On the surface, they didn't look too different, for Lt. Col. wore simple black sweatpants and an old sweater, but their disciplined, esteemed, and sharp attitude made it clear the life of sacrifice and vigour they lived. Since she entered the room, Mahi was a part of them.  

She spent the entire day at Lt. Col. and Megha's side, explaining the procedure, assuring them she'd monitor their grandson's condition closely while reiterating it was Kabir's and she had the utmost confidence in his decision. "I know, beta, but having family look after him makes us feel better," Megha said

"I understand, Ma'am."

Mahi engaged them by asking for stories about the IMA, where Lt. Col. now served as a proud instructor to a thousand military applicant. Megha Ma'am revelled in the stability his position offered. She'd spent the bulk of their marriage following him as he shifted through bases and served in different regions. Now, they retired in Dehradun with their daughter, son-in-law, and grandchildren.

"Pehle bhi kehta tha magar aaj dawai se keh sakta hoon. Anurag jaisa student phir nahi aega." Lt. Col. Shergill concluded. Anurag, Mahi's heart fluttered whenever she heard his name. In Udaipur, few would remember him.

Megha Ma'am rubbed circles around Mahi's hand. "He was incredible." Mahi's pride gleamed through her tears.

It was fascinating watching Mahi interact with the Shergills. When Abhimanyu saw Akshara feed the kids at Ichha Kund during the pooja, his heart fluttered because he knew she was perfect for him with that voice that pulled him closer and the kindness that emulated his mother, the only one who'd cared for him unconditionally. But watching Mahi was different. With her, he saw a constellation of different lives and different people, all of whom she embraced with open arms. The version of her today was so true to who she was at her core, for she couldn't lie to save herself, yet she evolved from his best friend in Udaipur. 

"Kaisa lag raha hai Bangalore. Suna hai tumne pura din Dr. Kabir aur Dr. Singha ke saath guzara. Did you guys share tips on how to incite fear in your subordinates?" Mahi jested, breaking the silence on their ride to her apartment.

"I never knew you were an army wife." She gulped. She knew it was coming, but it still pinged.

"I'm not. We were never married." Her answer was rehearsed. Mahi didn't know what was so surprising, but many people asked her the same question.

"He didn't want to get married?"

"No, he did. He proposed twice." She toyed with the skin on her empty ring finger. "First, when he graduated from the academy and then again before his last mission. I just never said yes."

"You didn't want to marry him?"

"I wasn't ready to, then." She'd spent nights wondering whether she made the right call turning down the ring. A marriage licence wouldn't change their relationship or make her feelings stronger. Instead of a grieving partner, she'd be a widowed fiance. It would make him smile, though her heart added. His 400-watt smile if she'd accepted, spinning her around and calling everyone to say he did it, he got the most beautiful girl in the world to marry him.