Night of 25TH

CHAP 50: Ripples of Serenity

Past:

Shubman

"And I don't care; I will keep calling you that," my voice resounded loudly in the otherwise silent atmosphere of the Ganga.

"Well, you shouldn't, because you have a girlfriend," she retorted, defending herself with equal intensity. Her eyes burned with rage, and the kohl lining them added to her powerful presence.

"So what? You're my friend, my best friend on top of that!" I growled, frustration mounting as it felt like she was wresting something my emotions were deeply attached to.

"Well, it took your brain a few weeks to figure that out," she shot back, growling with the same anger I witnessed on the night she bravely punched that man.

As I stood there, poised to speak, the words I wanted to say slipped away, leaving me momentarily speechless. Before I could gather my thoughts, she confronted me with a sharp rebuke.

"Feeling at a loss for words, huh?" Her tone was charged with a mix of frustration and hurt. "You don't deserve to call me your best friend or use those nicknames if you can't share things just because you've got a girlfriend. Forget about me, think about Sanket and Rahil; those guys were practically losing their minds with worry. They were on the brink of jumping to Chandigarh, ready to act, but they held back because you decided to come here."

The weight of my emotions bore down on me, threatening to break the dam that held back my tears. Wearied by the weight of my emotions, I once again found myself drawn to the solace offered by her presence. It was a familiar refuge, a sanctuary that beckoned me in times of need. Like a well-worn ritual, I sought comfort in the haven she provided, knowing that within the contours of her understanding, I could momentarily escape the burdens that pressed upon my shoulders. The heaviness on my shoulders became unbearable, and in a moment of vulnerability, I allowed myself to succumb to the weight.

With a sense of surrender, I descended into her lap, my grip on her knees tight as if holding onto an anchor in the storm. Unconcerned about the girlfriend I left behind, a mere footnote in my life and our relationship a mere pact.

"What are you doing, Shubman? You have a girlfriend..." I silenced her by gently placing my fingers on her lips.

"You're my best friend. You were there for me, encouraging me to do better even when I was at my worst. Unlike her, who left me for someone else. Though we've gotten back together, our relationship needs time. As I always say, you'll always be special to me. And I'm sorry once again for ghosting you." I turned around, burying my cheeks in her knees. My eyes were blurry as I gazed at Ganga Maiya. I didn't have the energy to say more, but I knew she wouldn't let it go without seeking answers and ensuring I was truly okay.

Her fingers wove through the strands of my hair, a comforting cadence set by the occasional sway of her leg, a melody that stirred memories of my mother's soothing touch in my childhood.

Her voice, as gentle as the breeze that played with our clothes, broke through the calm. "Do you want to talk about it?"

I paused, caught in the crossroads of emotions, before finally surrendering to vulnerability. "I'm tired," I admitted.

"Tired of what?" she pressed gently.

I took a deep breath before letting the words escape, each one heavy with the weariness I carried. "Tired of the media, the relentless spotlight, and the ceaseless rumours surrounding my rekindled relationship," I confessed. As I spoke, I felt the warmth of tears, letting them soak into the delicate threads of her pink Banarasi saree.

"That's what friends are for, keeping you grounded and making you feel like a normal person, right?" she said, wiping away my tears as I trembled and sobbed.

I nodded, humming in agreement with her words.

"So, from now onwards, will you call me or Sanket and Rahil whenever you feel low, instead of sulking by yourself in bed?" she asked, resting her chin on my shoulder and looking down at me.

"I will, but it's just hard to reach you know sometimes," I said, turning around to face her completely.

Rolling her eyes, she couldn't help but inject humour into the situation. "Come on, Manny, we don't live in the Stone Age. Ke tujhe mujhe pathar pe likhke bhejna pade. Just click on your phone, and we are talking to each other."

I chuckled at her sense of humour, and my smile widened upon hearing my nickname back.

"Manny, huh? Can't resist the beauty of my friendship?" I teased her, poking her dimples.

"Want me to call you by your first name? I can do that," she began, but I didn't let her complete the sentence, attacking her with a hug and a long exaggerated "NOOOOOOO."

Her laughter rang through the serene Ganga ghat as she pulled me into a tight hug, my hands instinctively circling her waist. I could feel the warmth of her bare waist through the soft fabric of her saree, causing goosebumps to ripple all over my body. The moment, frozen in time, felt like a stolen piece of eternity along the sacred riverbank.

The air was filled with the joyous echoes of our laughter, blending seamlessly with the gentle lapping of the Ganges against the ghats. The sun painted the sky with hues of orange and pink as if mirroring the warmth of our camaraderie.

I noticed an elderly lady looking at us, wearing a knowing smile and playfully wiggling her eyebrows. It was evident that she thought of us as a couple. In response, I discreetly mouthed, "Dost hai," emphasizing that we were just friends. However, she seemed unfazed by my explanation, chuckling and playfully throwing her hands at me. She curled her fingers, cracking her knuckles against her forehead. Her reaction made me blush, and instinctively, I buried my face in Chucky's shoulder, pulling her even closer.

Unaware of this silent exchange, Chucky, in her world, muttered, "Hayyee Ganga Maiyaa, thanks for this destiny." Perplexed, I furrowed my eyebrows and pulled her at arm's length, giving her a questioning look.

She stiffened, attempting to appear innocent. "What did you mean back there?" I asked, narrowing my eyes and questioning her.

"Huh, I meant thanks for this, that your mood is better now," she fumbled, nervously laughing. I raised an eyebrow, not entirely satisfied with her response.

"Chalo, Ganga aarti shuru hone wali hai," an old man near the banks of rivers announced.

"Chalo, Ganga aarti ke liye fatafat varna late hoga," she said, gathering the shopping bags, which I took from her, not wanting her to carry them all the way.

"Hash," she muttered under her breath, causing me to raise my eyebrow again, questioning the matter I had decided to ignore seconds ago.

"Arre, mera matlab hai, kitna haste haste chal (slow) raha hai, jaldi chal," she said, pulling me along with her.

"Ab kya mein udoo?" I said, annoyed.

"Jamega," she shot back with a grin.

I gave her a look, not wanting to entertain her with her lame jokes again, making her grin disappear.

"Aram se chal, koi jaldi nahi, huh?" she said, showing a thumbs-up and moving forward, making me smile at my drama queen.

*****

Sorry guyss the chapter might be boring  🫣🫣.

Will try to it write it more beautifully in next one...