Manzil

11- One Step At A Time

Happy Dhanteras to all!

To be continued,

Reality isn't kind to those who deny it. It thrusts itself back upon you, not with a knife in the back, but through the crueltiest, staring down at you distastefully.

"Uh, so..."

"Aayiye, Follow me." Aditya cut Arjun in the middle while grabbing his wrist.

When we reached the medical staff room, Aditya pulled out his hoodie and handed him. "Wear this, sir. It might be stinging onto your pain; please remove it."

Arjun was speechless. He nevertheless took it from Aditya's hand, his skin touching Aditya, and oddly, a familiar sensation he felt. Strange.

Arjun's eyes were not leaving his, and Aditya's gaze flicker on his ruined dress.

"Thank you, Aditya." Arjun mumbled while wearing Aditya's hoodie. The hoodie was double the boy size. How did he himself manage to wear this hoodie? It wasn't of his own size.

When a kid, Aditya used to admire the smiles on faces from afar in the hoping that maybe someday, a miracle happened and I'll also be able to have parents, like other children of his age. Just like which they call a happy family.

Guess it seemed like a different kind of world to me where bright light smiles, and laughter fascinated me. Funny? Right. It does. But then I grew up not even once getting a chance to experience that kind of life.

Realities and fascination sucks. Worlds are not the same for everybody, and for someone like me, it was already buried far deep under the ground long even before I was mature enough to realize it.

And now, here I'm.

"It was my fault, Sir." Aditya replied, leaning onto the nearest wall.

"Nahi Aditya. It was all unintentional. In fact, Galti meri thi, that's my attention was somewhere else, and you had to listen to his bitter words. I'm sorry." Arjun said Aditya, and Aditya looked up to him and immediately wiped his cheeks.

"Please. Don't. Mistake is my second name. Toh meri galti hui. Aur, Piece of damaged good is toh my replica. As he meant Good for nothing. It's me." Aditya said, chuckling, and Arjun wanted to reprimand Aditya for the choices of his words.

There was nothing Arjun hated the way he hated that phrase—damaged good. Words that Arjun never liked. But he knew it was not him speaking; it was what Aditya had been drilled in his mind. It was the deep-seated roots of his sufferings. speaking.

"Tune kuch khaya subhe se other than these bruises?" Arjun asked, ignoring the statements. And Aditya looked down.

'No, he didn't.'

Aditya took a moment to watch his hands intently. Knuckles are bruised; blood and sweat on the both of palms and face? He immediately covered his face.

Indeed, the man was omniscient. Black hair, brown skin, bold mouth, and handsome. Also, this was to be the first time he talked with someone for more than five minutes and the first time someone had talked to me for that long.

But then again, he would be just like an another man, who will left after pitying. People, life, and time played to him in every extent.

"Nice. Face toh cover hogaya. But how will you hide these bruised knuckles?" Arjun said, controlling anger, and Aditya immediately hid his hand behind.