a girl engaged had no idea that her ring had fallen off. it was nowhere on her or near her for a whole night. even the morning didn't bring a "oh i seem to be missing something." nothing. till her aunt noticed the absence of it and raised a hue and cry. an adroit piece of story telling without much fuss, on a simple insight. this engagement means nothing to khushi, so nothing about it really registers. certainly not the eagerly slipped on ring from clammy, grabbing hands. the whole thing is an imposition she is willing to endure for her father's sake. also because because someone said he's getting married and she means nothing to him.
lovely how she never missed the weight of it on her fingers.
telling how she looked at a scar on her finger with no diamond sparkling bright. and seemed to remember things beautiful, moments she cherished, something in them she wanted so much, that her eyes almost watered with the yearning, her smile turned tender with a little tremble in it.
was she happy that there was no question of this scar slipping off her finger and getting lost? he had given it... hers to keep. why must sometimes the patently corny feel so beautiful. you could feel tat smile and the owning of her scar, her laad governor tyrant mean bandage man inside her.
if the poolside was his sanctuary, where his plants grew and his memory of his mother kept him feeling somewhat safe, it stands to reason and is true to emotion that he should find his way out of his prison and darkness standing right here. thoughts of mother in the air and he steps on a ring. a ring that was given by another man to the woman who told him of hope... and when he tried to examine it with his mind, she advised him to look with the his heart... for then he would find that thing... the one that matters. belief.
but to reach that heart, the veil of the mind had to be lifted. or else how would he see in whom his heart had put its yakin... its belief. all he could feel/hear/think/touch/see was what his mind said he ought to. but what did he really want. what made a difference.? did anything make a difference?
never. he'd sworn.
and so the ring had to step into his path much like the owner had just the day before, and make him see the truth. allow his innermost thought to come tumbling, rushing, gushing out... almost.
does anything make a difference?
of course it does... because.
you never know when love will come calling and leave whom in what state. payal perhaps never knew she had this feisty thing in her. that barb by akash's mother had cut deep. you couldn't see the scar but you could feel it in the grain of her voice. her abrupt turning away from akash, cutting off his flow of romantic outpouring. yet, when he was gone, she felt the loss, the sadness of it all, because somewhere in the middle of all the veggies, diyas, janmashtami rituals, and dupattas, payal had started to feel things she never had before. things that made her want to stay transfixed while akash spoke silly sweet things. but she had to walk away. suddenly forlorn and lost the girl who tried to stay happy and upbeat for all, and who just a while back had restored her sis's smile. where had this girl left her own smile now? didn't it reach delhi with her, did it get left behind in that train from lucknow? her sister wondered as she tried to bring payal to a better mood. why did it seem as though khsuhi was lighter, happier, brighter, now that the ring wasn't on her.
a wife found the ring, and knew it was the sort of thing her husband would have bought, she knew her yeh bhi na well in many ways. but a crucial one. and he knew exactly how to play with her love, her need, her inner uncertainties. he convinced her he knew nothing about the ring, and she let it be. no it wasn't a surprise for her.
but actually la was right... jeeja ji had planned a surprise for her. a cruel and shocking one.
about the one who found a ring, and the one who lost it... i looked carefully to see whose fault it was. that banging into each other in the hallway. honestly, neither was to blame. it was the timing. of course, instantly all caution was thrown to the winds by the one looking for her ring, hassled only because buaji was hassled. mr raizada of course never was too far from his temper and in minutes we had a flare up."dekhkar nahin chal sakte kya?" can't you watch where you're going, said she.
"yeh ghar mera hai, mera jahan dil chahega, jaise dil chahega main waise chaloonga, agar tumhe koi pareshani hai toh mere raste mein aana band karo..." this is my house, i'll walk where i please, how i please, if you have a problem with that, then stop coming in my way..., replied he.
"aapka ghar hai toh kya hua... ap din bhar intezaar karte hain kya, ki kab kaun darwaze se aaye aur aap jakar unse takraaye?" your house, so? so do you wait the whole day to see who's coming through the door so you can go and bang into them. khushi comeback is delivered. so very typically her, on janmashtami she'd wondered... who knows how many people he's shouted at and how many more he's going off to shout at. a picture of a very laad governor man in her words. she even thinks nastily of him with a sense of ownership.
he wants an apology. she is not giving it. never.
but that ring has a job to do... and a sorry must be said.
......................
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