RISHTEY- YRKKH 4 X ANUPAMAA

chapter two- jaana pehchaana

anupamaa

I stared at the young man for a moment. He seemed to be someone close to me. He felt familiar. His face felt familiar. He had a striking resemblance - with Mister Shah, my ex-husband. His nose, his jawline, his face cut - all mirror images of the man I used to know so well- Mister Shah.

At first, I had thought that he was a foreigner, with his fair complexion and intriguing aura, but as he spoke, revealing an Indian accent, my confusion deepened.

The word "maa" escaped his lips so effortlessly, carrying with it an inexplicable sense of comfort. It felt as though a piece of my past was coming back to me in an unexpected form. Why was I getting so sentimental over a stranger who just happened to resemble someone from my history?

The word- maa from his mouth seemed to heal a part of me.

Why was I getting so sentimental? He was not my family member. Maybe he was an Indian like me-- that's why.

As I grappled with these emotions, a realization dawned upon me. Anupamaa was my name, a name that bridged my past in India to my present in America.

Back in my school days, my friends fondly called me "upamaa," and now in this foreign land, the correct   pronunciation of my name,"Anupamaa," resonated differently. The people spelled it correctly, only the word pamaa was not satisfactory. It was the accent which sounded like 'pamaah'. The people here used to call me Anu.

The man, instead of adhering to the common Americanized or Indian version of my name, chose to address me with a form of respect that stirred something within me - "maa."

Why this was feeling so good?

Maa. The word maa held so much emotion.

The simplicity and depth of that word, "maa," stirred up emotions I had buried deep within me. It held a warmth and familiarity that surpassed the term "mummy''. WHY?

Before I could delve deeper into this internal exploration, the abrupt call for the bill shattered the moment. I watched as he prepared to leave, feeling a sense of loss well up inside me as if a connection was being severed too soon.

Unable to resist, I found myself blurting out, "Beta, tumhara naam kya hai aur tum kahaan se aaye ho? Mera matlab, Bharat ke kis rajya se aaye ho?"

My curiosity got the best of me as I probed for more answers, hoping to unravel the mystery behind this stranger's impact on me.

His response was curt, yet laced with a hint of defiance.
"Naam se kya farq padta hai? Aap Bharatiya ho, main Bharat se hoon - yeh kaafi hai. Chalta hoon, der ho rahi hai mujhe. Namaste."

With a nod, he acknowledged our shared heritage yet maintained a distance that left me pondering the enigma he had brought into my life within a few minutes.

And as he disappeared into the bustling  street, I was left with a whirlwind of emotions and unanswered questions, contemplating the fleeting encounter that had momentarily reignited a dormant part of my being.
..

sumedh

It was difficult but I had managed to say it to her.

Of course the name didn't matter much.

From her eyes I could see that she was trying to identify me.

She had almost but I had confused her.

I had to.

I will reveal it later on.

When she will be ready to accept her mistake rather than calling out others for their mistakes.

It was a long way to go. And I was ready.

As I walk towards my car, which was parked in the distant lot across the road, my attention is suddenly diverted by a girl on a hoverboard careening towards me. With lightning reflexes, I manage to sidestep her erratic path just in time, but not without consequences. Her billowing white veil, caught in the wind, wraps itself around my face, momentarily blinding me.

As the fabric falls away and I regain my composure, I see the girl sprawled on the ground, clutching her twisted ankle. Despite the pain evident in her eyes, she extends her hand towards me and pleads for help. I reach out instinctively, noticing her traditional Indian attire - a white  Salwar Kameez - and the helmet askew on her head.

''Please help me!" She exclaims and gives her hand to me.

I hold it.

Salwar kameez. An Indian she was.

Giving the veil back to her, I give her a disappointed look.

''What do you think you are doing girl? Hoverboarding or trying to kill yourself?

''Bade aaye mujhe daantney wale- khud toh dekha nahi upar se meri galti. Yeh videshi kitne mean hote hain. Khadoos kahin ka!"

''Main khadoos nahi hoon madam!. Aap badtameez hain- jo bina dekhe apna hoverboard chala rahi thi.''

''Hindi aati hai aapko?" She asked, her voice tone changing suddenly.

''Obviously aati hai. Bharat se jo hoon. And for your kind information- sidewalk mein bhi zor se hoverboard ya skating karne allowed nahi hai Miss. Aage se dhyaan rakhein.'' I say curtly.

Her face was a sight to watch. She had turned pale when I started speaking in hindi.

''Arrey Abhira beta! Tu yahaan?"

It was Anupamaa from the other side.

''Hi aunty! Namastey! Kaisi hain aap? Main wahaan aati hoon rukiye.''

So Anupamaa knew her.

Of course, because she was the Anupamaa.
Jahaan jayein rishtey banaye.

The girl Abhira gave me a look, a pout forming on her lips and went towards the zebra crossing.

''Dobo kahin ki- sorry bhi nahi bola. DOBO!"

I turned to see Anupamaa. She was speaking to the girl in white- happily.

Letting out a sigh- I minded my business and got inside the car.

....

So Abhira is here!
And the first interaction of Sumira is here.
Abhira knows Anupamaa of course!
And Sumedh doesn't like her carelessness.
Do comment your views on this!