Part 91 - Magar Tera Pyar Nahi Bhule

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23 January 2017 - Monday Morning at 11 am
@RKB Marketing

Raman sat back in his chair, listening as Mihir outlined the main requirements for the ad campaign for the Lee Groups new boutique hotel in Shimla.

His ears were tuned into Mihirs voice but his eyes surreptitiously sought out the woman who sat a little way behind Mihir.

Ms Ishita Iyer.

He had not seen her since Friday night, since he had walked away leaving her sitting on the bench. He had wanted to take her into his arms then, to comfort her, to stop her tears. And to take comfort from her, to sate his own undeniable hunger for her. But maybe she had been crying over her damned husband, not over him, and besides, he knew that he could not subject her to his own demons. So he had walked away and then he had spent the entire weekend thinking of her.

She said that she was married, but he knew that there had been something between them. The way his heart reacted to her presence. The devastation on her face when he spoke about meeting that woman in the bar. There had been some bond between them, some bond which he could not remember and which she would not speak of. His heart was trying to tell him something, but his mind could not understand.

Hum bhool gaye re har baat magar tera pyaar nahi bhoole

He had spent half of Saturday at Dr Sharma's office, wanting desperately to be put out of his misery, to be given the keys to his locked mind. Dr Sharma had been hesitant, but had tried something. But he didn't know what, for he had blacked out, had not remembered, when he regained consciousness, just what he had been told. So Dr Sharma had sent him back home, had counseled patience, had told him that one day he would remember, and not to strain his mind too much until he did.

Sunday he had tried something else. Had asked Mihir to drive him around Delhi, around the places that he had frequented, had loved. But nothing had evoked the longed for recollection. The places were familiar yes, but then he had lived in Delhi for most of his life. There was nothing that he had seen that had unlocked from his brain the missing three years of his life. He had also spent time with his family, with his children, had taken Adi and Ruhi out for ice cream. Then on Sunday evening, he had walked around the apartment complex, exploring the place he called home. He had paused at the community hall, hearing that whispered voice again. He had been part of something here, something tremendous, something emotional, he could sense that. But with whom? For now, all he could feel, all he could see was the face of Ishita Iyer. And so he had looked for Ms Iyer. But she was hidden away. Probably crying over her bloody husband. But where was her husband? And if she was married, who then, was he to her?

He brought himself back into the present as he stared at her again, noticed the dark circles under her eyes that makeup couldn't hide, the downwards turn of her mouth, the dejection in her posture. And he wondered why it bothered him so much.

Kyaa kyaa hua dil ke saath
Magar tera pyaar nahi bhoole

"Bhai, so what do you think? Any ideas? Mr Lee wants you to handle this one personally, it's very important to him. Bhai? " Mihirs questions interrupted his thoughts, and he recollected himself, pulled his mind away from her.

"Sorry Mihir" he said quietly. "Just go over the main points of the proposal again, please."

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Ishita was acutely aware of her husband's eyes boring into her. She had been determined not to look at him, not to let him know how she felt, but she knew that her swollen eyes and her downcast face gave her away.

It had been a difficult weekend.

First, there had been Friday night, when Raman had walked off after telling her not to cry for her husband or for him. She had managed to keep herself together then, had not broken down until she had reached the sanctuary of her apartment. She had made it to her bedroom, had told Aarti to go back to bed, had checked on her sleeping babies, and had then collapsed in tears that would not stop. She had cried for him, for his confusion, and for herself, for her jealousy, her anguish. She had cried for their relationship, the love they had found and nurtured and built into something truly special. She could feel that love slipping away and she did not know what to do, and how to make things right.

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