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| Ansh's POV |
"Oye Kishor... what did you get angry on that Vishal on the wedding day?" I asked, being careful to not trigger his hot temper.
Kishor stopped his munching and looked at me while all I could do was stare back, trying to hide my nervousness.
He turned his gaze from me to his T.V. that was displaying some ads before playing the movie. He pressed the pause button on the remote but didn't move his gaze away from the T.V. Almost as if he was trying to think what would be appropriate to say to me...
"Haaa... ", he let out a long sigh before finally speaking. "It's was nothing much... just me being an overprotective brother..."
"That day... the engagement night... Ishika told me some guy was staring- no, ogling at her. Vishal's reaction made me think it was him. The thought of Vishal being that guy angered me and I just... did what I did."
Hearing what Kishor said, I wonder what if the one who made Ishika uncomfortable... what if it was me... I too was staring at her but totally not ogling like some creep. But before I sank further into my thoughts, Kishor added, "It really was him though."
"How do you know?", I asked being a little confused by his firm voice.
"He himself admitted it. Don't you remember? The wedding night, he accepted that Ishika rolled her eyes at him for staring at her."
Right, he did say something similar. But I too thought she had adjusted her dupatta when I was looking at her... I still cannot let go of the thought that what if the guy she hates is actually me.
"Moreover Ishika also said that the guy was apparently shorter than me and had the same skin tone as her." Kishor continued.
"...That description fits Vishal", I added.
I am obviously taller than Kishor.
'Nah, that's not obvious. You are just 1 inch taller than him', my little mind butted in again.
'You don't interrupt me', I warned it before continuing my detective work.
And about the skin tone part... Ishika didn't appear to be as pale as Kishor and I match Kishor's ivory skin tone. So that concludes, it's not me!
"Yep, adding reason to why I thought of him as 'that ogling guy', which turned out to be true. He isn't really a nice guy though. Useless and unprovoked cursings and fights, unreasonable, disrespectful and a womanizer - that's him."
I hummed in yes. "How did we even become friends though?", I asked and began to think about it on my own.
"Aree... in a way we aren't even friends. He just tags along sometimes when some guys ask him to."
"Accha haa...", I mumbled slowly.
"Well, I don't feel like watching movies anymore." Kishor said as he fell back on his bed.
"Same here", I replied. "I am going home. You can have these snacks, I am not in the mood to eat."
"Okayy", he exclaimed happily while I got up from the bed and hung my bag on my shoulder.
"And clean that oily shit from my game console", I reminded him and exited his room.
I bid goodbye to Susmita aunty but suddenly, I remembered... what about the food lying on that small table?
I rushed to my bike stealthily and messaged Kishor before starting my bike's engine.
Ansh : You can surely eat my share of roti, bhindi and sarsoo ka saag (chapati, lady's fingers and... sarsoo ka saag) that's kept on the side table of your bed. Right?
Seen
He was probably on his phone since the 'seen' message was displayed right after a few seconds of me sending the message. I heard him rushed to the balcony and looked up only to see his betrayed face. I stuck out my tongue and sat on my bike, ready to run away.
"Ansh, you cheat, you traitor..."
I heard his muffled scream as I rode away from his house.
"Hahahaha...", I laughed remembering his face that had reddened with anger. A ting sound came from my mobile. Probably a Whatsapp notification in which Kishor cursed me in a thousand different ways.
^~^
I reached home. I washed my face, hands, legs and feet, and changed into casual checkered shorts.
My mother would return in 3 hours, atmost, from her office since it is still 3 p.m. right now. My little brother is at his friend's house for a 'school project' and won't be back until 5p.m. Lastly, my father... He is away for some medical trip.
So. . that means I can do whatever I want!
I rushed to the kitchen, made some maggi and ordered some delicious momos on Zomato app. I ran back to the living room.
A huge comfy sofa in front of which was placed our 55-inches T.V. on a glassed cabinet. CDs and DVDs were filled in that cabinet along with some boring, non-fictional books. My father is extremely fond of this precious collection that is displayed through the glassed cabinet. Some roses were kept in a vase at the edge of the cabinet, my mother's favorite. There were five shelves attached to the wall one below the other. Each had trophies placed on them, mostly mine and few belonged to my brother. Below the lowest shelf, some hooks were nailed upon which hung some medals - gold, silver as well as bronze.
My father is keen on boasting his children's achievements. Well every parent is keen on such stuff but I find this a little excessive... and embarrassing since it involves me.
I picked up the remote and searched for something to watch. But nothing irked my interest. I had no choice but to watch 3 Idiots.
'Again with his stupid justification. Just say you want to watch 3 Idiots, you fourth idiot.' My nosy mind interrupted me.
Just ignore it.
'What did you say, fourth idiot!' it exclaimed.
But... just ignore it.
Moving onto the movie, I pressed the play button.
The marriage scene of Priya's elder sister Mona was playing where Raju, Farhan and Rancho sneaked in for the bhoj. My empty house – not exactly empty, just that I was the only one here – was filled my laughter and the sound of the movie playing. But soon, my laughter ceased as Ishika's angry face flashed in front of my eyes on seeing Priya glare at the three boys...
A smile spread across my face as I recalled I wasn't the guy Ishika was disgusted of.
That explains why she held my hand to take me out of the maze instead of slapping me in the face when I was lost in the huge venue.
Out of the blue, I remembered her soft touch that passed through the fabric, her delicate hands that held my rough, coarse one and her twinkling eyes that mesmerized my entire soul. I could still smell the intoxicating scent of her gajra that was tied so gorgeously to her flowing hair.
The way my eyes search for her everywhere she could possibly be, the way my heart beats rapidly at the possibility of bumping into her and the way my entire body freezes on actually encountering her. My brain starts to malfunction but my heart becomes overactive, almost as if it would explode.
It is almost surreal. Almost.
Suddenly, the doorbell rang pulling me out of my reminiscence.
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First Ishq
General FictionIndian Version [Duet Book 1] ~ Ansh Malhotra A prodigy student since a tender age, Ansh had been at the top of his school and continued to be the topper even in his current years in the Mumbai University, along with casually winning some State level...
