Tere Bin - Retro

Meerab's choice

*** Please like, comment and star - Next update coming on Thursday ****

"And the kiss", asked Meerab.

"Give me .....my laptop". Murtasim commanded.

Murtasim seemed to wait patiently, except the big gulp that he took when Meerab raised her hoodie to remove the laptop, betraying his emotion. He quietly took the laptop and walked to the table to place it back. His nonchalance and apparent calmness in the face of the obvious turmoil in Meerab's heart felt like a slap to her.

Meerab followed behind him. "So, you don't...?"

He seemed pensive and silent.

Murtasim walked towards the cavernous closet on the side of the room.  Fit to be a bank vault or a treasury of a old sultan, the giant cave was a maze of floor to ceiling closets aligned along the edges of a wall. A wall mirror was affixed to one side of the room and rows of counters and rawers filed the walking space. The entire swath of space was packed with Murtasim's clothes, his salwars, his designer collection of suits and his collection of shawls, all displayed like a designer's collection of treasures. For someone with such a mercurial temperament Murtasim's personal space was always organized and categorized into perfection. His love for control ranged from clothes to people, especially Meerab but not himself. 

Meerab followed behind Murtasim. Her anger rising with every second of Murtasim's perceived indifference.

Meerab felt the urge to take all his clothes from those closets and mix them all, maybe put the shawls next to the suits and put the underclothes in the watches section the just to rile him. Wonder if he would be able to stay calm then?

Murtasim was standing in front of one of his large cabinets with the pullout drawer opened. He calmly, removed the links used to secure his kurta buttons in place.

There was a small foot stool lying to the side, probably used by the maids to reach the top shelves. Meerab kicked the stool and it landed close to where Murtasim was standing.

She pushed the pullout door close, almost stubbing Murtasim's fingers in the process.

Then she climbed up on the footstool so that she was almost at eye level to Murtasim and glared back at him, forcing Murtasim to acknowledge her.

He ignored her advances.

"Meerab, it is late and you should go", he reminded her.

"Why, am I intruding in your life, perhaps personal matters to attend to, a woman?" She shouted. She grabbed his opened kameez right at the chest and pulled on it, forcing him to look up. He narrowed his eyes and looked fixedly at her. She was breathing hard, her face scrunched up in anger, nostrils flaring, eyes blazing with anger.

"What do you want from me Meerab?"

She did not let go of the sleeve even though the fleeting contact with Murtasim's chest burnt her palms. 

"I already told you everything. I already feel like a freak trading anything and everything for just one touch from you. Don't you see it? I am dying .. the power that you.... ". He stopped, as if he had spoken too much.

But Meerab had heard it. Her head swirled hearing the word, "power". 

"Power..?", wondered Meerab. Was that what she had? Did she really affect Murtasim like this? Was she so important to him? He had let her snoop into his laptop, even answered the questions regarding the pictures, which was as uncharacteristic of him. She would be less surprised if he had announced that he had a wife and four kids in another country, not that she would be pleased. The point being though, Murtasim hated sharing and usually, kept all the cards close to his chest.