Episode 44

“See you later, Chutki. I'm trusting you with today's preparations.” Mihir winks and Mishti winks back to her brother who quickly goes and catches up with Raghav who has already started up the engine.

“Has he gone?” Ruhi comes out of her room just five minutes after Mihir has left and Mishti nods, suppressing a smile.

“Well, be ready for today.” Ruhi grins, walking out of the door for her university and Mishti giggles.

“Oi, Mishti, have you seen my granola bar? I had it in my bag yesterday. I can’t sit in classes for too long before getting hung –”

“Here,” Mishti says, giving a chocolate and granola bar both to Ranveer, who grabs them excitedly, giving her a side hug before walking out of the door as well.

“Keep the cakes ready for today.” He calls out, turning back and this time Mishti is unable to stop the laugh that bubbles up her tummy.

“Seems like you are ready for today.” Samrat quirks from the dining table, bringing Mishti’s laugh to a simper.

She clears her throat, before turning around to face the man who is busy scrolling through his iPad and yet his lips are quirked up.

Mishti goes and quietly sits beside him.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning, Mishti.”

Mishti ducks her head down, nodding at the greeting, gingerly reaching out to grab on some breakfast.

“Let me,” Samrat says from beside him, reaching out for the food.

“Toast?”

Mishti shakes her head.

A small chuckle escapes his mouth that doesn’t go unnoticed by Mishti.

“Puri?” She nods and this time the man doesn’t bother hiding his laughter as he puts the food on her plate, neither does Mishti try to hide her pout.

“Stop that. I’m eating the puris as well. See?” Samrat points out and it is then that Mishti’s gaze falls on his plate, acknowledging that the man is indeed eating the Indian delicacy.

“I thought you didn’t eat Indian food.” She mumbles to herself. The man hears it regardless.

“It’s been long since I have started eating it. I’m surprised you’re only noticing it now. Keep up, Mishti.” Samrat says, giving her a lopsided smile. Mishti is not impressed.

“Stop smiling already.” She tells him but when has this statement ever had its desired effect.

Samrat does the opposite of it by chuckling, and so does Mishti by biting back a smile.

“I’ll leave first.” She says once she is done with her breakfast, grabbing her bag and her uniform, on a way to become a certified Sous Chef.

It has been ten weeks since she, her brother, and her friends have found their residence in Samrat’s house, and a lot has changed since in their personal and professional lives.

First five weeks of the duration had gone with her friends being in a house arrest. Mishti had been overjoyed that her friends didn't have to go to the prison.

But the next five weeks, that's what brought the change in their lives for good.

Raghav has started a small eatery of his own in the corner of the street as he had always wanted to, her brother has secured a job in the technical department of Samrat’s company, having using his technical skills for a good cause instead of the dirty work of the agency.

Ranveer and Ruhi have resumed their university courses in Economic and English Honours respectively.

Vivek has moved out of the house with Aisha, well, that had been done even before Mishti and her friends had entered this house, Samrat not wanting Vivek to work as his subordinate anymore now that he had a family to manage.

Cute.

The couple lives only a few houses away down the street, visiting the place every weekend and Mihir is thinking of doing the same; a plan that would get kickstarted today.

While Mishti is busy living her dream, studying in the culinary school, doing a BA in culinary arts and an internship on the weekend side by side in one of the restaurants in the city.

She knows that this wouldn’t have been possible without Samrat, any of it. Knows that she owes him a lot, they all do. But she doesn’t mind it. All her life, she and her friends have been living on other’s benevolence, doing what they are asked for, compromising with whatever they thought was right, but now that someone’s benevolence is giving their life a new start, pushing them to cultivate the dreams that they hadn't even dared to sow. Mishti doesn’t mind at all.

Not to mention, the aforesaid man doesn’t fail to remind her how he is not doing this for her or her friends but himself. Whatever that means.

“I’ll drop you,” Samrat suggests, getting up from the chair and grabbing his coat before giving Mishti a chance to protest.

She does it anyway. “But your arm.”

Samrat waves off the concern. “It’s been months. Don’t worry about that.”

“But –”

“Shh, I don’t want you to go and cry to your brother about how tired you were. Today he will be busy making this the best day of Ruhi’s life.” Samrat says, lifting his chin.

Even though good-natured, the statement has Mishti forgetting any further argument regarding his injury and focusing on his words, making her look at the man with accused eyes, hands on her hips.

“Excuse me, mister, but just to remind you it’s my brother’s birthday today, and I certainly won’t say anything else to him other than my heartfelt wishes, and anyways, today must be special for both of them. No partiality allowed.”

Samrat scoffs, picking up the keys from the table and walking towards the door, Mishti following him.

“Ruhi used to be my friend, not Mihir. Of course, I’d want her to be happier.”

Mishti pouts. “But he is my brother!”

Samrat stops in his tracks, making Mishti bump into his back, rubbing at his forehead. Samrat turns around and raises a brow. “And?”

Mishti’s jaw drops, while the man smirks.

“Aren’t you getting late, come on.”

Safe to say, Mishti’s mouth doesn’t shut until she is standing outside her school, glaring at the speeding car.

*

“Let me hear!”

“No, you move. It’s my chance.”

“Oh God, can you two stop being kids. Mihir is literally proposing to my sister inside. Don’t ruin it for her.” Raghav chides, pulling both Ranveer and Aisha by their arms away from the door.

“Hey, she’s my sister too. In fact, even more than yours.” Ranveer reminds Raghav, poking his tongue at him, getting back to sighing. “I just want to hear what he is saying.”

“Why, Ranvi? Wants some tips to propose to your future wife?” Aisha nudges his shoulder, teasing him and Ranveer prepares for another retort while Raghav is left shaking his head to himself.

Mishti smiles contently standing against the wall, briefly averting her gaze to the person standing next to her who is watching her friends with the same smile.

“Ruhi has always been the shy one, hasn’t she?” Samrat asks her as if sensing her gaze on him. Mishti immediately averts it to the wall in front of her.

“Yeah. And my brother’s always been considerate of her feelings, hence the private proposal.” Mishti boasts, a proud smile on her face seeing which Samrat shakes his head fondly.

“You and your brother. I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a loving pair of siblings in my whole life.”

Mishti shrugs. “He’s always been there for me. Unlike others who left me for some reason or another, my brother has always stayed beside me.” She says absentmindedly. It is only when she feels Samrat tensing beside her, does she comprehend the implication behind her words, immediately turning towards the man.

“I didn’t mea –” She wants to clarify but Samrat shakes his head, effectively stopping her.

“It’s nothing untrue, Mishti. Your brother has never left your side, but others did.” He smiles bitterly. “I did.”

“No –”

“But what it’s worth,” Samrat looks at her, cutting her off mid-sentence yet again. “I regret it. It is the biggest regret of my life alongside not being there with my father on his deathbed. I wish I could turn back time and undo everything. I wish I could listen to you just once; I wish I would have stopped you, stopped them from taking you away.” His gaze falls on her wrist that sports a few bruises extending to her arm from that day in jail. Mishti immediately covers it with the sleeve of her Kurti.

“I regret it all, Mishti. I’m sorry.” Samrat says, not looking her in the eyes.

It is then that Mishti notes the sudden silence around them and looks up to find all three of them gone from the spot.

Must be Aisha’s doing.

She thinks and smiles to herself.

“May I please have my chance now?” Mishti asks Samrat making him look her in the eyes, surprised.

“Huh?” he lets out innocently, eyes wide like a child making Mishti remember the first day she had met him.

“I know you regret it, and that you have committed some mistakes, but I think it is high time that you stop apologizing and I start doing that.”

“Mishti –”

“Let me, Samrat. Please.” She says gently, cutting him off, not realising the fact that this is the first time in all these days that she has called him by his name.

“I am sorry, sorry for everything that happened with you, everything that I did,” Mishti says, looking at the marbled ground, gaze unfocused. “I do wish that you would have listened to me that day but honestly, whenever I put myself in your shoe and imagine me standing in your place at that time, I think I would have done the same,” Mishti reveals with a sad sigh, letting out a humourless chuckle.

“Lying, breaking someone’s trust, betraying them – I did all that to you even if it was on someone else’s order, and still expected you to listen to me. But now that I have experienced it first-hand, have been lied to, been betrayed to – I wouldn’t have given me a chance either. I did unfathomable harm to you. You trusted me and I – I can’t regret my actions enough, can’t apologise to you enough. But just know that had it been in my control, had it not been for my brother’s and friend’s survival, I would have never done it, never hurt you.”  Mishti tells and Samrat nods from beside her, a litany of I know(s) escaping his mouth.

“I wish we could have met in some other scenario. Maybe then everything would have unfolded differently. Don’t you think?” Mishti asks him, a genuine inquisitiveness in her eyes seeing which a smile grows on his face.

“We can do that anytime.” He tells her and before she has a chance to ask him any question, he extends his hand in front of her.

“Take it.” He insists, and Mishti does, albeit hesitantly.

“Hi, I’m Samrat Agnihotri and I’d love to know more about the girl standing in front of me with the most beautiful smile in the world.” He says, the sudden words of appreciation making Mishti duck her head out of shyness, biting back a smile. Though she stops doing that when she looks up at him, gracing him with the curve of lips in question.

“Hi, I’m Mishti, just Mishti, and I’d like to grant your wish.”

*

“What’s with them, why aren’t they bringing in the cake?” Ruhi wonders to herself, gazing at the decoration in the living room, sitting on the couch. Alone.

It is only when she hears someone clearing their throat from behind, does she alert herself, immediately turning around to face the person who turns out to be none other than –

“Mihir? What are you doing here? You weren’t supposed to be here right now.” She pouts, already able to see all her surprise going down the drain.

But Mihir only smiles in return, taking steps closer to her, making her confused than ever.

“Mihir?” she asks when she sees the man continuing his walk until his shoe clad feet are touching hers.

She gulps.

“Did you want to say anything to me?” Mihir asks her, in a sweet, low voice, looking her in the eyes. She breaks the eye contact immediately, nodding, nonetheless.

“H-Happy Birthday.”

She says and Mihir lets out a fond laugh hearing the words.

“Thank you.”

“This was supposed to be a surprise, why haven’t they come in yet?” This time Ruhi throws the question to Mihir who in reply merely holds her hands, stroking his thumb gently over it.

“They won’t.”

Ruhi manages to morph her face into a perplexed one, despite the proximity. Mihir does nothing to increase the distance.

“I wanted to say something,” Mihir tells her and she gulps, eyes flitting towards the shut door.

“But your birt –”

“Let me say it and it would be my best birthday ever.”

“But –”

“I have loved you for a long time, Ruhi.” He says, bringing the aforesaid girl’s heart to a pleasant pause.

“Huh?” is the only syllable that escapes her mouth, too surprised to say anything else. Eyes wide and hands frozen mid-air.

Mihir smiles at the sight.

“I said I love you.” He reiterates and the girl looks at him, mouth agape.

“I know you do too.” He chuckles when Ruhi’s gaze immediately falls on the ground, shy.

“But what I do want to know is that would you want to love me all your life? Would you like to have a future with me?” he asks, and just as he does, the lights in the living room die to a dim, the fairy lights draped on the window coming to life.

It is then that Mihir sits on his knee, finally matching his gaze with Ruhi’s who has her eyes wide and fingers fiddling in his hold.

With an inherent quickness, he brings out a small box from the pocket of his pants and flickers it open in one swift move.

Ruhi’s gaze averts to the box and her breath visible hitches in her throat.

“I bought this ring with my hard-earned money. This is not from our missions. Nothing in our future would be from our missions, I’ll not let our past taint it. I’ll keep you and our family happy as long as I live. If only, you’ll have me.” Mihir says, unable to sieve the wetness that seeps into his voice, its reflection visible in Ruhi’s eyes who does everything to blink back the tears.

“Will you – will you marry me?” Mihir asks finally, a tear rolling down Ruhi’s eyes and into his hand as she nods incessantly and gives him a smile with her quivering lips.

Mihir doesn’t waste his time in putting the ring on the girl’s finger, looking at the sight with misty eyes.

He stands up and as soon as he does, the girl throws her arms around his neck, sobbing into his shoulder.

“I love you, Mihir. I always have, and always will.” She promises and Mihir smiles against her head, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

“Told you this would be my best birthday. Thank you.”

One of the two couples spend the night discussing their future and the other, coming to terms with their past.