24.dreamy night ( part 2 )

Happy reading yrra's 💗

As I looked at her, she extended both her hands toward me, her movements slow and deliberate, as if silently pleading, "Hold me." Her face was pale, her posture weak, and she seemed to have no energy left, standing there as though the weight of the world was pressing down on her. I reached out hesitantly, taking her hands into mine, expecting her to lean on me, to let me help her.

But to my surprise, as I gently pulled her, she didn’t budge. She stood there motionless, her feet planted firmly on the ground, her body refusing to respond. Her silence spoke volumes, as if she were saying, "Carry me; I can’t do this myself anymore." Her hands hung in the air, suspended, trembling slightly, waiting for something I couldn’t quite give in that moment.

My heart ached seeing her like this, yet I knew what she needed wasn’t just my strength but my reassurance. I carefully placed her hands back down by her sides, holding them for a moment longer than necessary. Then, with a soft yet steady voice, I said,

"Aap yahi rahiye, mai abhi kuchh banva ke lata hu" (You stay here; I’ll go and bring something for you to eat).

I lingered for a moment, hoping my words would bring her some comfort before I turned to leave.

As I turned back to leave, her hand gently pressed on my shoulder, stopping me in my tracks. Her voice, faint yet firm, reached my ears,

"Banva na nahi hai..." (Not something already made...)

I turned to face her, confusion evident on my face, and asked,

"Toh...?" (Then...?)

And she, being her usual self, replied with a faint smile,

"Banana hai." (You have to make it.)

I looked at her from face to toe, observing her tiny frame. Whether she was a full 5 feet tall or not, I couldn’t tell, but she was itti si (so little). And yet, Madam Sahiba expected me to cook?

Thinking this, I raised my eyebrows and pointed one finger at myself, narrowing my eyes in disbelief, silently asking, "Me? Seriously?"

But for my luck, she shook her head in denial. Relief washed over me for a moment, but it didn’t last long—because now the question became even more difficult: If not me, then whom?

Like a proud woman, she said with her head held high and a confident smile, moving her hand over her head,

"Mai hu na..." (I’m here, right?)

"Aap?!" I shouted unexpectedly, my voice louder than I intended, filled with disbelief. How could she, yrrr? Itti si toh hai! (She’s so tiny!)

She shot me a sharp glare, the kind that could make anyone freeze, and then without saying a word, extended her hands toward me, waiting for me to hold them. I sighed, defeated by her determination, and as I lifted her into my arms, she wrapped her hands around my neck.

Her anklet jingled softly, and she seemed completely unbothered, playing with it as if nothing had happened, letting the delicate sound of her payal (anklet) fill the silence between us.

Today, she was behaving really weird, for the first time ever. As we stepped out of our room, I casually asked her,

"Kaha jana hai?" (Where are we going?)

She suddenly stopped, her expression changing as she looked at my face. Her wide eyes made it seem like she had seen a ghost. Before I could process anything, she grabbed my face with both hands, pulling me closer with surprising force.

And then, in that moment, everything—tsunami, earthquake, apocalypse—hit my life at once.

She shouted so loudly that I was sure if Veer were here today, he would have shot 3-4 bullets in his sleep just from the shock.

"Bathroom mein!" (To the bathroom!) she yelled, her voice so loud that it echoed in my ears. I stood frozen, staring at her in disbelief. I had never seen her shouting, let alone this loudly. It felt like the world had turned upside down in an instant.

And then, as if the heavens had declared me guilty of the gravest sin, her expression completely changed. She looked at me like I had committed the most unholy deed ever. Her eyes were full of accusation, and I stood there clueless, trying to figure out what I had done wrong.

I mean, even if she wanted to go to the washroom, what’s there to be ashamed of? But before I could process anything further, she began wiggling in my arms, struggling as if her life depended on it.

However, I wasn’t in the mood to let her go today. I tightened my grip around her, refusing to give in to her theatrics. Yet, she was relentless, on a mission of her own, twisting and turning in my arms like a child throwing a tantrum.

Finally, deciding I had enough of this drama, I started walking—down the stairs, ignoring her protests. And just as I reached the landing, heading toward the kitchen, she stopped struggling and froze.

Meri kya galti thi... (What was my fault?) Mai to bas puchh raha tha... (I was just asking…)

She folded her hands in front of me, still trapped in my arms. As I tried to gently place her on a kitchen chair, she unexpectedly held onto my neck, her grip tight. Her face was contorted into an angry expression, something I’d never seen on her before. It was like a Pokémon showing its anger—rare, yet powerful.

Matlab, (I mean) she could never be the one to get angry, so why was she showing it now? And to make it even more confusing, there wasn’t even a clear reason for this sudden shift. A moment ago, she had been smiling, and now... who knew what was going on inside her.

It was like watching a storm brewing, but for reasons I couldn’t quite understand. I stood there, unsure of what had triggered this change in her.

I even tried to put her on the kitchen counter, but she clung to me like I was the only thing holding her up—her body glued to mine. Honestly, I was enjoying it, dil se bolu to (if I speak from my heart), but something about her behavior was starting to worry me. Why had her mood changed so suddenly? What had happened?

She didn’t say a word, just stayed there, in the middle of the kitchen, as if lost in her own thoughts. Then, after a few moments of silence, I noticed her eyes scanning the kitchen, looking around like she was searching for something.

And then, she started directing me—first to some boxes, then to the veggies, and finally the utensils. It seemed like she was silently gathering everything she needed to cook today. She hadn’t even come down, and honestly, part of me didn’t want her to. I was enjoying this unexpected ride, holding her in my arms, more than I’d expected. But what I loved even more than this moment was her Pokémon angry face—the one that made me feel like she was a whole different person, full of mystery and energy.

Only then did she look at me, her eyes locking with mine, and yet, she said nothing. I froze for a moment, realizing that, in the midst of everything, I had been staring at her like some kind of maniac. My gaze had been so intense, so lost in her, that I hadn't even realized it until she caught me.

She tried her best to hold onto that angry expression, but it was clear—despite her efforts to stay mad, the anger wasn’t lasting. Her eyes softened, and I could almost see a smile hiding behind the frustration. It was as if she was trying to maintain her serious demeanor, but something about the moment just kept pulling her back.

She finally spoke, in the most flat tone she could muster,

"Hume baithna hai..." (I want to sit.)

Even with the flatness in her voice, her cuteness was unmistakable. There was something about her that made even the most simple requests seem endearing.

I carefully placed her on the kitchen counter, the vastness of the kitchen surrounding us. It was a beautiful blend of both culture and modernity, with antique jars and sleek appliances coexisting in harmony.

I stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do next. She remained silent, her gaze fixed on the floor, her expression unreadable.

"Ab...?" (Now...?) I asked gently, waiting for her to speak, but she seemed lost in her thoughts, not meeting my eyes.

"Kya ab itna to kam akr diya na... ab khud bnao..." (Have I done enough now... you make it yourself...) she said, staring straight into my eyes. For the first time since meeting her, I felt something different—she wasn’t the same person I’d known. It was as if she was silently ordering me around, as though the burden of everything was on my shoulders, and I had to do it all.

Sach mein, itna kam kiya kya... (Did I really do that much?) I was lost in my thoughts, wondering if I had really been doing so much. My mind was still wandering back to how I had been holding her in my arms, my heart heavy, my head spinning.

Just then, she pointed her little finger at me, directing me as if she was in complete control. Her eyes narrowed playfully, and in the most teasing tone, she asked,

"Kya kaha?" (What did you say?)

Those words… her voice carried a mix of curiosity and challenge, and I couldn’t help but wonder how everything had shifted so suddenly.

And I was done here. Kuchh to gadbad hai... (Something’s wrong…) She’s not Rani Sa…* Kisi ki aatma to nhi aagayi inme...?* (Has someone’s soul taken over her?) Arey nahi, Raghav aatma thodi...* (No, it’s not Raghav's soul.)

Agr aatma nahi to ye madam kis khushi mein itne avtar change kar rahi hai apne...? (If it’s not a soul, then why is this madam changing so many moods so suddenly?)

Hey Devi Maiya, bacha lena aaj... (Oh Goddess, please save me today...) I prayed to the heavens, feeling an unsettling vibe in her behavior. This wasn’t like her, not at all.

I shook my head, trying to focus on the task at hand. I lit the stove, set the pan, and added some water. As the water began to heat up, I was about to add some veggies when I felt her hand on my wrist. She held me firmly, her grip strong yet gentle enough to stop me.

And then, she screamed,

"Arrreee ye kya anarth kar rahe ho aap... chij kya ho aap, ek Indian takda, masala Maggie nahi aati banani..." (What chaos are you creating… what are you, an Indian who can’t even make a simple masala Maggie?)

I stumbled back, completely taken aback, my mind racing for a response, but my body felt like it was paralyzed. What could I even say to that? My legs weren't moving, and I felt like I was frozen in place. Her hands holding my wrist had this incredible effect on me, like morning sunrays gently touching my eyes. They were so soft, so warm, yet there was something deeper to it—something that made my heart skip a beat.

She was talking, but her words felt distant, almost muffled. I couldn’t focus on anything she said, my attention entirely consumed by her face. It was radiant, glowing with an intensity that reminded me of the moon at midnight—calm, peaceful, and impossibly beautiful.

As if sensing I was lost in a trance, she let go of my wrist and, without saying another word, moved me aside with ease. I stood there, motionless, feeling like I was drifting in a daze. She didn’t seem to notice or care, taking charge of the kitchen with confidence. My mind was still swirling, but it was hard to focus on anything other than her.

She worked quickly, with expert hands, preparing the Maggie. I couldn’t help but watch, mesmerized by the way she moved, so graceful yet full of purpose. It felt like a scene from a dream, surreal but completely captivating.

It wasn’t until the fragrant aroma of the Maggie filled the air that I snapped back into reality. The scent hit my nostrils like a wave, and my stomach rumbled in response. It smelled so rich and inviting—mouthwatering, like something that could only be described as pure comfort. My craving hit me all at once, and I found myself eagerly waiting to taste it, like I had been starved for this moment.

As the steam rose from the pan, the sight of the Maggie made my heart race with anticipation. I couldn’t help but smile to myself, realizing just how much I was enjoying this, despite everything that had happened before. It was one of those moments where, even amid the confusion, everything felt right.

"What...?" she asked, her tone slightly confused.

I quickly looked around for another plate, still caught in the whirlwind of her sudden shift in mood.

"Meri..." I started, pointing towards her plate, offering it to her.

But to my surprise, she looked offended, her expression hardening.

"Raat mein khana health ke liye achha nahi hota..." (Eating at night isn’t good for health.)

She said it with such finality, almost like a statement I was supposed to accept. And then, just as quickly, she turned and moved toward the room, leaving me standing there, unsure of how things had gone from playful to serious so quickly.

I stood there for a moment, the words echoing in my mind. Kya sach mein? (Is that true?)

Her sudden change in mood left me more confused than ever. It was like one minute we were fine, and the next, I was in a whirlwind of her emotions that I didn’t quite understand.

I just stood there, scratching my head, completely baffled. Rani sa hi hai... (She really is like a queen...) I muttered to myself, trying to make sense of her unpredictable behavior.

I shook off the confusion and followed her, still processing everything. Humare liye to rukhe (Wait for us), I called out as I moved toward her.

She stopped and turned around, only for me to slowly lift her into my arms as she held the tray, looking at me like she had no idea what was going on.

"Kya hai, hume jane dijiye na..." (What’s the matter, let me go...) she said, a hint of annoyance in her voice.

But I wasn’t ready to let go just yet. I carried her, walking with her in my arms, and I couldn’t help but glance at her face. That pokemon angry face—a mix of frustration and cuteness—was too much to ignore.

"Vo hum soch rahe the, Rani sa..." (I was thinking, Your Highness...) I began, but before I could finish my sentence, she cut me off.

"Aap sochte bhi hai?" (You actually think?) she snapped, her tone playful yet annoyed.

"Ji..." I replied, feeling completely clueless, like I was caught in a whirlwind of her emotions, with no real idea of what was going on anymore. I couldn't figure out if I was in trouble or if she was just messing with me, but I couldn't help but smile, despite being completely lost.

SUkriya ji 😊

Love you all

Next update wed or thursday ko krugi ji 😊 💗