Daastan [#MissionDesi]

Chapter 9

Our plane had reached Shrinagar mid afternoon. Three hours later, we checked in a hotel in Pahalgam. Jet lagged, we slept in the chilled weather. When I woke up, she was nowhere in the room. I stepped outside in the balcony where she was sitting in a chair, looking straight ahead at the view.

It had started drizzling. I sat beside her, taking in the beauty around us. As we looked on, the view seemed to have frozen in time like in a painting, except for the river water flowing, gurgling water tumbling over the rocks as if desperately trying to reach a lover to deliver a message.

Pine trees spread out their branches trying to catch little droplets of water into its waiting palms, while some quietly slipped away to replenish the earth. Shrubs had sprouted at random places. Green and red roofs with square windows far away with chimney exhaled smoke.

Rain was catching speed and a white screen curtained the view, obscuring it little bit. Only the outline of trees lining the mountains was visible. A moving red dot could be seen in the distance, travelling and then disappearing around the bend in the mountain.

My hands had started freezing. I guessed hers did too. So I moved my hand to hold hers. She gasped at my touch but soon recovered. Our fingers interlinked together, gold wedding rings clinked. She rested her head upon my shoulder. I kissed her hair, the scent of Jasmine gajra (flower garland) pinned to her hair filled my nostrils.

Lightning streaked the sky like old people's veins, thunderclaps tailing along which reminded me of the giants living in the sky, I had read in a story book as a kid.

Dark clouds had disabled visibility and we went inside to stop our teeth chattering like an old truck starting up.

Unsure what to do, she sat on the bed, looking around, taking interest in the intricate details of the well furnished room. Little lanterns were suspended from the ceiling which was made of wood structured like that of an attic, held by wooden beams. Paintings of ancient Kashmir adorned the walls. Mysterious looking polished rectangular wardrobe was placed opposite the king size bed with leopard print blankets, soft and furry to touch.

As I slipped next to her she said, "I want to go back to Kerala."

Sighing I said OK.

"Really?" Her eyes went wide as saucers.

"No!" I laughed. "Imagine you saying this after some years. I would be more than happy to take you back to your parents place. Few years into the marriage and every husband wants to hear his wife utter these magical words to him."

She laughed too. Getting serious, she said she was missing her village, her parents, friends, everything she had left behind. I took her hands in mine, folded them, palms sticking together.

I did the same with mine too. I said, "I have read somewhere. The old man that I am," I chuckled. "My memory's still hazy about that thing but I'll try."

I explained, "Pinky fingers resemble grandparents, ring fingers are for husband and wife, middle fingers for friends, index fingers for brothers and sisters and thumbs for parents."

Next I asked her to ape my actions and first parted my thumbs, then the index fingers, followed by the middle and pinky fingers.

"What about the ring fingers?" she cut in.

"Try pulling them away from each other."

She tried but soon gave up.

I explained, "You might stay away from your parents, siblings, friends, grandparents but try parting your ring fingers. Its not at all easy, you might as well struggle and give in. That's how strong the bond of husband and wife is. Now don't get me wrong. Other relations are necessary too. But staying away from such love is impossible as you can see the stubborn ring fingers not giving up on each other."

She smiled, her eyes twinkling like the stars outside.

Rain had stopped and moonlight streamed in throwing off the shadows of the past. I opened my eyes and missed her more than ever. I missed her smile, the way her eyes would light up at every little thing, getting excited like a child. And I wished she were here beside me, holding my hand.