[Sequel of Rang Jo Lagyo: The Colours of Love; can be read as a standalone]
Who said people with perfect pasts don't have broken parts to them and who said people with shattered pasts don't have a sense of fulfilment in them?
When she has learned th...
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For once I got to cook for someone else other than myself. I always had my breakfasts alone and having someone to share the table with was something that I didn't know I needed. Sometimes Hritvik joins in to make my breakfasts less lonely but who would've thought that I could find a better breakfast mate than him.
"While you finish up, I'm gonna go and change quickly so we can leave right away," I said and went towards my room. I came out wearing a long sleeves white t-shirt with olive cargo pants. I was walking out the room pulling up the sleeves and looking down when I heard her voice that made me look up.
"Chalien?" She said and my hand moved to my heart impromptu that again started to beat vigorously. She looked ethereal even in a white kurti and blue jeans and her soft smile was just adding more charm to it. She had left her hair open but encaged my attention. I have been looking at her since morning, yet my eyes were not satiated.
Calm down buddy.
I said to my wavering heart.
"Chalien?" She said and my hand moved to my heart impromptu that again started to beat vigorously. She looked ethereal even in a white kurti and blue jeans and her soft smile was just adding more charm to it. She left her hair open but encaged my attention.
"Chalein?" she repeated coming closer and snapping her fingers in front of my face.
"Yeah yes yeah yeah lets go. Let me just grab umbrellas for us," I said getting all flustered when my Apple watch vibrated notifying me of a call. I looked at it only to find Hritvik calling me.
"Do you need to take that call?" She asked and I pressed declined on the watch.
"Not important," I said and grabbed the umbrellas from the holder that was by the door. "Also you should let the parents of the kids know that there won't be any class today."
She nodded and said, "I'll text in the group chat."
We stepped out the building and opened up our umbrellas. The pitter-patter sound of rain hitting the cemented roads, and the smell of moist soil surrounded us as we began walking on the sidewalk. The cars were honking here and there splashing water into the air as they went over the puddles at a great speed. The vendors were shouting selling their goods and some were even lowering down the shutters of their stores due to excess rain. I turned my neck to a side and saw her smiling underneath the shade of umbrella. She brought her hand out of its shade to collect some water in it and giggled when the droplets drenched her hand. My lips curved into a smile as well capturing the warmth of her joy collide with the coldness of this weather and I found myself asking, were the rains of Mumbai always this beautiful?
The raindrops were tapping on our umbrellas as our feet were moving through the rainwater that had collected on the roads. The honking of vehicles continued, interrupting the sounds of rain. I could hear the distant sounds of chatter and laughter of children on the sidewalks, but my eyes refused to leave her face. She had cupped her hand now and gathered some water in it, and I asked myself yet again, were the rains of Mumbai always this beautiful?
