Aashiqui - A Love Story.

.XII.

Present

Oxford Street, London.

Abir and Jiya swing by the road, carrying blueberry muffins on one hand and a cold coffee on the other. They talked about Jiya's college days, her struggles as an aspiring journalist, the backlash she had faced during her second year because of a controversial article, and the appraisal she received for the recent interview she had conducted, everything is being discussed by the writer and her. The pain of losing her parent begins to subside a bit.

"You know, Mishti always used to say, that talking about something that is considered to be a taboo by others, is always a brave way to overcome our own fears. We not only go against people's beliefs in the process, but also challenge ourselves." Abir shares.
"She seems like a deep thinker." Jiya mulls.
"Oh that she was!" He chuckles, remembering about a moment when Mishti sat thinking for hours about changing bathroom tiles, and which colour should it be if they were renovating. Abir had literally suggested pink, so he was thrown out of the decision making group.

"Hey. I think I've been too harsh on you about this going back in the taperecorder to find out about my mysterious aunt. I'm sorry if I've hurt you." She apologises. She really was feeling guilty and discussed the same with Harry too. The latter just asked her to simply talk and clear the air, for which Jiya caused a big scene that he wasn't understanding the situation. And in the end, Harry won.
"It's alright, Jiya. None of it's your or my fault. Circumstances and people sometimes tend to shape our life without our knowledge. And the beautiful part is we let that happen." He smiles.

"So you brought her here? Before you went to Oscar's that night?" Abir nods, digging his brain to narrate the incident.

2019

Oxford Street, London

"Did you seriously think this was gonna work? I'm really disappointed in your redemption arc ideas Abir." Mishti tsked, feigning pity.
"Shut up! I atleast tried." Abir defended himself. Bringing her to the road that caused her accident, seemed a good thought to him but now he was regretting it, observing her reaction.
"It doesn't matter. You cannot recover my legs by bad mouthing the road where I lost it. It's like scolding a table because you hit your toe! Shoo! Bad table!" She imitated and started laughing as Abir rolled his eyes.
"You're obnoxious." He muttered.

"Thank you!" She smiled and bowed her head.
"Thought for a thought?" Mishti looked at him keenly. Why was he interested in what she was thinking? What was actually going on in that non-existent part of his brain? She wanted to know. Therefore, without second guessing, she voiced out what she was experiencing.

"It feels good to be outside the dungeons. After the accident, the doctor incharge was so worried that I'd kill him if he had uttered about a changeover. And Akshara didn't ever force me. So I was confined to myself, within my castle walls. I never knew when it became a prison to both my mind and body." She sighed.

Abir nodded in understanding. He had gathered that much already. She was being too rigid with herself so that she wouldn't have to feel things, just like her numb body. But her senses had already betrayed her outright stupidness, by accepting the fact that she was indeed, binding herself to a place.

"I hated being called adopted. Maa and Baba always treated both of us equally, and I knew I was an outsider. Even more, I didn't have to do anything to impress them. They naturally gave me everything I wanted, especially Baba. But I wanted to be recognised for what I am as a person, than my origin or upbringing." He said.

It was the first time he had ever admitted it. He hadn't discussed this with Mehul too, since he knew he'd hurt his father's feelings. But Abir was just Abir right then. Not Abir Rajvansh, the failure of a son to Meenakshi, pride progeny of Mehul, best brother to Kunal. He was stripped of all the titles and adjectives he was given. And Mishti admired his honesty.