28

-• always •-

Rudra

It's not how many times you pray to the Lord to fulfill your wish, it's how long you wait until it's fulfilled.

It took me five years to get Taranya on the front seat of my car. I never thought these little insignificant details of life will matter so much to me. I'm a greed addict. I've always been hungry for more, for larger parts of life. Maybe that's one reason why I never realised when Taranya became so important to me. She happened in little details, in the ones that I shook my head at, didn't think need any glance, let alone a thought. She took advantage of that. And slowly, inch by inch, took over my entire world. And I love her for that. I love how she didn't need my attention to make herself seen, she was there, and with time, I just started to notice her more.

"Stop smiling, it's so creepy."

I glance at her. She's focused ahead. "I'm happy."

"Of course, you are. Everything always happens according to how you want it to happen."

"Nothing ever happens according to how I want it to happen."

"Really?" She mocks.

"Really," I turn a street at the signal. "If that was the case, I'd have started off as a good man. I'd have studied diligently with my own identity to get where I'm today. I'd have my parents along with me. I'd have approached you like a normal person. I'd have taken you out on fancy, over-the-top dates. I'd have doted on you, adored you, loved you and I'd have let that realisation make me happy rather than terrified. I'd have taken you to meet my parents." I look at her. She's transfixed. Makes my breath hitch. "I'd have proposed you on some cliche, beautiful hill station." I refocus on the road ahead. A smile takes over my lips at my free, unbound, unreal imagination. "I'd have married you under normal circumstances."

She wrings her fingers together on her lap. It makes me want to reach over and cup those restless hands, soothe them with my own.

"And moreover, I'd have my love reciprocated." My gaze flickers towards her.

"Bold of you to assume I'd have fallen in love with you."

"You would have." I say with certainty. "I can just feel it."

She doesn't say anything. Doesn't counter. Doesn't try to argue. I lean over and turn on the stereo. A romantic song starts playing.

We stop at a restaurant for dinner. The drive is short. But we started late. It's already nine pm. By the time we reach, it'll be over ten thirty. And I don't think either of us is willing to cook anything edible from the scratch.

"I'll have mushroom cream soup and bread." Then she puts down the menu book.

I frown.

I don't know whether it's her taste buds that have changed, or if she's on some sort of special diet. She has been eating only soups lately. That's basically what her normal diet consists of. It's weird. Because I remember this woman as a big foodie. She was never hesitant when it came to trying new things.

"Are you sure that's all?" I ask her. "The farmhouse is empty and we'll have to wait a night to restock the pantry since we're going there on a short notice. You might get hungry. Eat something heavy. I've heard their Biryani is really-" the waiter starts to nod as well, but she cuts me off.

"I think I'm adult enough to figure out whether my food intake will satisfy my appetite or not?" She plasters a sweet smile on her face.

I nod curtly. "Whatever suits you. I'll have a chicken biryani, and salad."

The waiter retreats with a polite bow.

"When out in public, can you regard me with little respect?"

She furrows her brows. "What do you mean?"

"When I ask something, answer me."

"I believe I did exactly that."

"No, you were sarcastic." I remind her.

She breathes out through her mouth. "You're being so sensitive. Leave me alone and sulk alone." Fishing out her phone from the purse, she proceeds to blatantly ignore me.

We don't speak a word to each other for the time we finish our dinner. The drive to the farmhouse is quiet. I start paying her attention after she falls asleep in the car. Reclining the seat back so she's comfortable, I turn the AC of her side off and reduce the media volume.

Everytime I glance at her, the damned street lights spill across her face, and under the dull orange glow, she looks magnificent.

It takes me so much power to not give into the capricious, illicit thoughts controlling my head. If she ever gets a hint of what goes into my head half the time she's around, yeah, she'll have another reason to justify why she wants to leave me. I'm no less than an animal when it comes to my sexual urges towards her. I want her in the most raw, brutal, savage way possible.

She opens her eyes and I snap my gaze ahead.

"Are we there yet?" She slurs softly.

"No, forty minutes more."

I'm lying. Maybe twenty five minutes more. I'm taking the longer route to prolong this drive. I like driving. And I absolutely love driving when she's on the front seat with me. I just discovered that.

She smacks her lips together in disappointment. "Wake me up when we're there. I am sleeping."

"Sure, I'll let you know." I murmur.

I don't let her know. I don't see the point of waking a peacefully sleeping person. Ask me how precious sleep is. It's the people who can't sleep know the value of sleep. So I've a very valid reason to scoop her in my arms and carry her inside the farmhouse.

The caretaker of the house comes rushing out of the kitchen when I enter the living room.

"Sahib, welcome." He bows a perfect right angle.

I nod back. "Our luggage is in the boot of the car. Ask someone to send it my room. Excuse me." He shuffles away, and I notice the hint of a smile on his lips as he watches me carry my wife upstairs to my bedroom. I look down at her, my own smile broadening and I lift her head a little to press a kiss on her forehead. "Thought you were a light sleeper?" I jerk her playfully. She stirs and buries her face in the crook of my neck. I shake my head in amusement.

Carefully, I lower her on the bed. She rolls down my arms and towards left of the bed, grabbing a random pillow to bury her face in, drifting back to sleep on her stomach.

It's not healthy.

Climbing the bed, I turn her around and she slaps me on the jaw with the back of her hand. My eyes fall close in annoyance. "Sometimes I wonder if I've some kind of mental condition that I fell in love with you." I put the pillow beneath her head and bring her sprawled arm back to her side. She chuckles in her sleep. "It's not funny." I look down at her, but I'm smiling just as stupidly. She turns on her side, and the open cascade of her voluptuous raven hair glide down the slopes and ridges of her beautiful body. I push them back, revealing her side profile and get pulled by the tempting sight. "I love you," I whisper in her ear.

She hums.

I smile harder.

At least in her sleep she accepts my confession.

A knock on the door makes me get off the bed. The young boy, dressed in worn out khaki pants and brown shirt stands outside with our bags. "Thanks, I'll take from here." I lean forward to take the bags. He steps back. I look at him with a frown.

"Sahib, I'm told to put the bags inside the room." He mutters innocently.

"Yeah, it's okay, I'll take them from here."

"But I'm specifically told to-"

"My wife is sleeping inside. I'd rather carry them myself inside." I state.

"Okay, Sahib." He transfers the luggage into my hands. Before I turn around, I tell him to wait outside until I put the bags away and return. He obeys wordlessly. Grabbing my wallet from the suit pocket, I extract a few bills of two hundred and hand them to him. "Thank you, Sahib." He bows deeply and turns to leave. "Oh, I forgot to ask-" I stop while closing the door, waiting as he turns back around. "Shyam Kaka asked if you prefer the extra help around the house-"

"No, I want the privacy."

"But there's no restaurant nearby." He mumbles nervously.

"It's okay. My wife and I know how to cook. We'll manage."

He nods. "And the gardens?"

"Does it require extensive care?"

"For now, just watering. But there are different kind of species, so they've a fixed timing of when and how to water them."

"I guess, we can do the schedule thing? Just write it down how it needs to be done and I'll do it." I answer.

"Okay," he wobbles his head sideways in agreement before retreating with a soft good night. I close the door and walk up to the dressing table to put away the wrist watch, phone, wallet and car keys. Thankfully, Taranya sleeps through the noise of me changing, getting fresh and unpacking my stuff. I get on the bed with a book in my hands and slide a pillow behind my back. Turning off all the lights, I only keep the bedside lamp on and read with my AI glasses on.

In the middle of the night, Taranya starts to stir. I watch her in confusion as she tugs at something on her t-shirt, grunting and grumbling all while she changes twenty postions in less than twenty minutes. Then she abruptly sits up, eyes still closed and shoves her hands inside her t-shirt, unstrapping her bra and flinging it on my face before dropping to sleep again.

What the fuck.

In the pinch of my fingers, I remove the flimsy fabric from my face and throw it on the floor without daring to look at it. Then I stare at her aghast. The fact that she's not wearing a bra inside just makes me more restive. I try not to think. I try not to imagine.

"Focus," I flip the page and read the next line.

"From where I see, the peak of the mountain is sharp, and pointed."

I slam the book close. And pick up my phone instead. There are several emails I need to reply. Might as well get some work done.

The next morning, at the break of the dawn, I take a shower and find the kitchen on the ground floor. All the instructions are pinned to the refrigerator using a magnet. I grab the list of things that needs to be done for the garden. Turns out it's not just watering. There's a new batch of roses that needs to be potted. I step outside through the back door and get the needful tools from the storeroom. Then I follow the step by step procedures on how to successfully plant young roses in the pots.

And hour later, I attach the hose to the tap and turn it on, watering the other plants as well. A few of them require little watering every four hours. The gardener has tied red fabric around them for easy understanding.

A shadow falls where I stand and catches my attention towards the figure standing on the balcony. Taranya stretches her arms over her head, smiling huge as she inhales the fresh air. Then she braces the railing and leans in, closing her eyes to the soft sunrays caressing her face. I stare mesmerized.

"Good morning!"

She opens her eyes, head tilting to look down at me. The smile on her face doesn't fade. My heartbeat skyrockets. "Good morning. I'm making breakfast. Omelette sounds good?"

I stand a little surprised. One day, her hot and cold attitude is going to be the death of me. "Yeah, sure. Thanks." I answer hesitantly.

She shrugs and retreats into the bedroom.

After watering the plants, I turn off the tap and step through the same back door, which happens to be connected with the kitchen. She's already showered and preparing the breakfast. Hearing my footsteps, she glances at me over her shoulders. "You need a shower."

I look down at myself. Though I've washed my arms and feet, but my white shirt and blue shorts are all muddy. "Yeah, I was planting the roses into the pots."

"You know gardening?" She asks, busy whipping the eggs in the bowl.

"No. The gardener left me with a list of things that needs to be done."

She laughs. "Are you the boss or him?"

"I mean, I'm the boss, but he has been taking care of the gardens for so many years. I'm sure he knows more about the gardening than a first timer like me."

"So, there's something in the world Shourya Singh Rajawat can't do." She muses.

"I never claimed that I can do everything. I'm not a superman. But I can learn everything."

"There you go."

"What? I'm humble enough to accept that I can't do everything, but you can't deny that I'm smart and capable enough of learning everything I put my mind to."

She sniffs loudly. "I can smell the narcissism rolling off you in waves. Try using some modesty along with that soap while you shower today."

I lean on the counter. "I'm not narcissistic. I'm confident."

"Considering the similarities, you and Agastya should be best friends."

"No, thanks." I get off the counter and walk out of the kitchen.

By the time I return, Taranya is eating her oats soup while freshly made omelettes, toast, butter and a glass of orange juice waits me for at the table. I pull the chair for myself, a little unsettled as I watch her eat the oat soup. She's not even enjoying her food. If anything, she looks like she doesn't care what she's eating as long it goes into her stomach. I take a sip of the orange juice and put the glass down, grabbing two toasts for myself from the plate and picking up my fork and spoon. She finishes off her soup and gets up. "No fruits?"

She shakes her head at me and goes back into the kitchen. "Dishes on you." She declares.

I watch her settle down in the living room to watch TV.

As soon as I'm done doing the dishes, I join her in the living room. She nibbles on the corner of her fingers, eyes fixated on the telephone screen.

"Tara,"

She hums distractedly.

"Should we do something?"

"What?"

"We can go into the woods." I nudge her knee.

She frowns and shifts her eyes outside the window before looking at me. "The woods?"

I nod.

"No. Are you stupid? Why would you go into the woods? It's not safe. Only dumb people go into the woods."

"It's safe."

"How do you know?" She asks me.

"This is our farmhouse. I've been here-"

"When?"

"A year ago. When they were renovating this place. I know a good lakeside. C'mon, Tara."

"No. What if we get lost?"

"You know I'm good with directions."

She considers the thought for a moment, then shakes it off with a click of her tongue.

"Tara, please. I'm bored."

"Go work."

"I'm not working on our honeymoon."

She scoffs. "This is no honeymoon."

"You're just scared of the woods. Admit it."

"I am." She admits.

I sigh in defeat and drop my head on the arm rest, staring at the ceiling blankly. The noise of the TV continues to run in the background. So I give up and get my laptop from the bedroom, settling down at the dining table to get some work done.

In the afternoon, she prepares lunch for us. I have it while working. She has it in front of the television. After I do the dishes, I resume work. The power goes off at three o'clock. Taranya goes to her bedroom and brings her laptop down. I hear her slap it shut with a groan a few seconds later.

"Why did the power go?"

"How would I know?" I answer distractedly.

"Call someone, na! Maybe the fuse went off?"

"This is a small town, Tara. Light goes off every now and then here."

"I'm bored." She whines. "My laptop is discharged. And my phone is on the verge of."

I scratch my left brow, scrolling down the test sheet and analysing the results in the running application.

"Shourya!"

I hum.

"I'm bored."

"Go work." I throw her advice back at her.

"What work? I'm not going to office yet. I don't have any work to do."

"Tara, stop disturbing me." I say tersely.

Thankfully, silence follows.

But then a loud announcement startles me. "Okay, let's go to into the woods!"

I squint my eyes at her. "You said only dumb people go into the woods."

"Yeah, I'm not smart, and you're about to prove the world wrong." She shrugs.

I think for a while, then close the laptop and look at her. "Should we?" My tone comes out excited.

She nods eagerly.

"Okay, let's go!" I push the chair back and stand up.

We change into trek appropriate clothes and fill two backpacks with snacks and water bottles and carry each. Then I lock the front door and slip the keys into my pocket.

"There are no animals in there, right?"

"No."

"Okay, let's go." She starts walking into the woods.

I rush forward until I'm alongside her and hold her hand in mine. She gives me a look.

"The ground is uneven. I'm afraid you might fall."

Her eyes soften. "And you'll catch me if that happens?"

I squeeze her hand gently. "Always."

It's in my prayers I wished for her.

It's in my patience I found her.

Ugh, these parallels are going to be the death of me 😭🤌

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