Life can be incredibly unpredictable. One moment, you have everything, and the next, it's all gone. But in my case, I found something. No, I found someone.
Someone who's sleeping right now.
Someone who tends to say no touching—only when it's necessary—yet is peacefully resting her head on my arm.
Someone who still manages to take my breath away, even when she's just sleeping this close to me, doing absolutely nothing.
I resist the urge to chuckle as I keep staring at her face—the adorable one. The one I don't usually get to see, her peaceful, sleeping morning face.
Her right cheek is pressed against my arm, squishing slightly, creating a cute little pout on her lips. Her hands are curled against her chest, as if she's holding onto some secret, and her breathing is steady and calm, like she's wrapped in a serene dream.
I inhale deeply, mirroring her rhythm, trying not to disturb the moment.
Rolling onto my side and carefully avoiding waking her, I let my fingers hover over her silky hair. I want to touch them, but I know doing so might wake her.
A loose strand of her hair falls over her face, framing her features even more delicately. I hover my hand over her cheek, take a deep breath, and gently tuck the strand behind her ear.
Suddenly, a soft clank from the window disrupts the stillness. Her body stirs, and a wave of panic washes over me. I close my eyes instinctively—maybe to avoid her noticing, maybe just because I couldn't help it.
I steady my breath, keeping my eyes closed, hoping the moment passes. Then I feel the soft, tender pad of her finger graze my cheek, ever so lightly, as if soothing the subtle burning sensation I didn't even realize was there.
The touch is gone for a moment, but then it returns. Her finger traces my cheek, from my eyes down to my chin, lingering for a second longer.
I didn't know a subtle touch—*her* touch—could make my heart beat so wildly.
A soft exhale escapes her lips, and then the touch disappears. I keep my eyes shut, unwilling to break the spell, until I hear her climb off the bed and walk toward the bathroom. The soft click of the door closing breaks the silence.
I open my eyes slowly, staring at the ceiling, contemplating what to do next. One moment, I want to confess my feelings, but the next, I hesitate, wondering if it's better to give her time to settle into this new environment.
I palm my face in frustration, resisting the urge to groan. Sighing, I sit up and rest my back against the headboard. I hadn't realized I was staring at the bathroom door until a notification on my phone catches my eye.
I check it and see a message from Ahaan, saying he won't be coming home tonight and will be staying in New York for a week. I reply with a thumbs-up emoji before putting the phone aside.
I get up and walk to the window, opening it. A cold breeze rushes in, carrying with it the memories of yesterday—Siya handing me the shual, her small smile as she watched me finally accept it.
I take a deep breath, looking at the view before me. The sky is a soft orange, the sun still rising slowly, and birds fly from one field to another, chasing each other.
Then I hear the soft rustle of clothes and the sound of the bathroom door opening. I turn, my breath catching in my throat. She walks out, wearing a red silk saree.
The soft clink of bangles fills the air as she runs a towel through her damp hair. My gaze moves to the vermilion on her forehead and then locks with her hazel brown eyes.
Those eyes have always struck a chord in my heart, especially when I remember how they once held tears. But now?
Now, there's curiosity in them, paired with a hint of uncertainty. Yet, despite that, there's a small, knowing smile tugging at her lips.
My eyes drop lower, tracing the curve of her slender neck where the nuptial chain rests. The diamond sits at the hollow of her throat, and a sudden urge rises in me to glide my fingers across it, to feel her breath underneath.
"Good morning," she says softly, her voice gentle and warm. She meets my gaze as she steps toward the small dressing table.
I pull myself together and mutter, "Morning." But honestly, there's nothing good about this morning. It's dangerously enchanting, making me forget everything else.
She sits at the table, leaning forward to adjust her saree, revealing her feet. Her hair falls across her face, and she scrunches her nose in a cute display of annoyance.
I bite back a chuckle and shake my head, walking into the bathroom with a towel. I hear the faint sound of anklets as I close the door behind me.
When I step out of the bathroom, towel wrapped around my waist, I spot Siya kneeling in front of her bag, looking for something. Her hair falls to the side, giving me a perfect view of her back. The blouse is modest, yet I can't help but feel drawn to it.
I walk toward her and ruffle her hair, causing it to fall further over her back. She looks up, catching my eye, before immediately returning to her search.
"Looking for something, Mrs. Oberoi?" I ask, my voice teasing.
She shakes her head, not meeting my gaze, and turns back to the suitcase.
I head back to the bathroom to get dressed. By the time I come downstairs, Siya is still fussing with her hair, clearly trying to fix it.
It's 7:30 AM, and we're finally ready. I'm dressed in a white kurta, and Siya looks as beautiful as ever, though a little flustered as she continues adjusting her hair.
𖤐
"Siya, your badi dadi and some friends have come. Go and open the door," dadi pats her shoulder, signaling her to go. Siya nods and stands up.
After breakfast, we all gather in the living room. Dadi proudly shows me Siya's childhood pictures, and there's no doubt the cutest one is of Siya.
Even in those photos, her eyes shine the same way they do now, with the faint dimples on either side of her lips.
A few elderly ladies, about the same age as dadi, walk in, and Siya steps ahead of them with a warm smile on her face. The ladies run their hands through her hair affectionately.
I approach them and bend down to touch their feet one by one. "God bless you," one of them says, placing her hand on my head. With a wrinkled smile, she holds my shoulders and exclaims,
"Toh ye hain hamari Siya ka pati?" The other ladies form a small group around me, glancing at me with curiosity. A sudden wave of nervousness rushes through my chest.
"Nazar na lage, kitna sundar ladka hai," one of the elderly ladies says, cupping her hands around either side of my head before forming fists, removing the "evil eye."
After a few minutes, they settle into the living area, pulling us along with them. Siya excuses herself, saying she'll help the servants make tea and snacks.
I sit there, trying to smile through their little gossip session, when suddenly, badi dadi shifts in her seat and faces me.
"You know, we never thought our Siya would find a husband like you, considering her behavior—" A small smile plays on her lips, as if remembering something from the past.
"She used to imitate us with sticks, teasingly, in her childhood," she finishes with a chuckle. Just then, Siya enters, whining and calling her out.
"Badi dadi!" she says, stomping her feet slightly as she crouches down in front of her and takes her hands.
Siya's eyes flick to me for a brief second before returning to badi dadi. "Kya? Mein toh bas baat kar rahi hoon," she shrugs her shoulders and looks back at me.
Leaning slightly toward me, badi dadi whispers, so Siya can't hear us, "She even used to beat her friends just because she lost while playing." A chuckle escapes me as I imagine her doing that as a kid.
Siya gasps, hiding her mouth behind the back of her hand and squinting her eyes in mock disbelief. "Haww! I've never done that, dadi. You're making up stories now!"
Badi dadi raises a brow before nodding knowingly. "Accha? Let me show him the videos, then." She reaches into her small cloth bag for her phone, but before she can grab it, Siya gently cups her wrist.
"Arey, uski kya zarurat hai?" Siya says, placing the bag down with her other hand and then holding badi dadi's shoulder. "I've come here after so many days. Mujhse bhi baat karo."
Badi dadi chuckles and shifts back to us. "Okay, now tell us how you two met," she says, looking at both of us. Siya chuckles nervously, while I eagerly wait to hear what she'll say.
She looks at me, then nods, "Umm, we met at a ceremony. And aage ka aapko kyun jaana hai? Aap gossip karo apni," she finishes with a playful shrug.
Badi dadi laughs heartily, clearly enjoying the conversation. My eyes stay fixed on Siya, as I can't help but observe her features again.
It feels like an endless cycle. The more I see, the more beautiful she becomes. The more I love her, the harder I fall.
An hour later, after their chatting and questioning session, we're finally about to leave to visit the temples.
I lean against the car, waiting for the ladies to come out. The first to appear is Siya, carefully walking down the stairs while holding the hem of her saree.
She pushes a stray strand of hair behind her ear and stands beside me, crossing her arms over her chest. "Forget about what badi dadi said," she mutters softly.
I chuckle and face her. "Why?"
She narrows her eyes at me and purses her lips for a moment before saying, "Because she was clearly making up stories. Okay?"
I rest my back against the door, shoving my hands into my pockets. "But I'd rather see the proof, Mrs. Oberoi," I mumble, gazing up at the sky.
Just then, I hear some noise as the ladies emerge from the main door. I push off the car and open the passenger door for my wife, who is clearly not happy with my statement.
But I'm determined to see those childhood videos. Siya chews on her inner cheek, looking cute as ever, before she says in a low voice, almost a whisper, "I'll never let that happen, Mr. Oberoi."
And with that, she gracefully sits inside the car.
𖤐
Killing the engine after twenty minutes of nonstop gossiping from dadi and her friends, I stepped out and walked around to open the door for the ladies and the passenger door at the same time.
I extended my hand for dadi, and she took it for support as she stood straight. Once all of them were out, the elder ladies walked inside.
Siya was already holding a small polythene bag with some grains and a packet of incense sticks.
I gestured for her to walk ahead. I followed her, but she slowed her pace and walked beside me, fumbling with something in the bag.
Her steps came to a halt, and so did mine. "We have to leave our shoes here and wash our hands over there," she said, removing her flats and walking towards a small water tap.
I discarded my shoes and followed her. After washing our hands, we turned towards a small porch where an old man was sitting. Siya took out a pack of mishri and handed it to him.
"Namaste, kaka ji," she said, bending her head as he placed his hand on her head. A small smile appeared on his face as he recognized her. "Namaste beta, when did you come?"
"Yesterday," she replied. His gaze shifted to me for a moment before turning back to her. "And who is this?"
Her husband.
"My husband, Veer," she said, and a smile glided on my lips as I heard her say that. Then, the old man left, taking several bags of mishri with him.
Siya tugged my sleeve when she saw me glancing at dadi and her friends. "Chalo, dadi will be sitting there with her friends as usual. Till then, I'll show you around."
I nodded. "Okay," and followed her. I gently held her arm as we stepped down the slippery stairs. She handed me the small bag and held her saree.
As we approached the metal gate, she held my arm and gently rubbed her feet on the rug before stepping inside. "You know, I once slipped really badly here," she muttered as we descended the stairs.
I chuckled when I felt her grip on my arm tighten a bit. "It must've hurt a lot," I said.
She hummed in response and said, "I couldn't walk for like two days."
Once we reached the Radha Krishna sculpture, she stood on her toes, grasped the rope of the bell, and tugged it, causing a loud vibration to echo through the room.
Then she took the bag from me. "Here, hold this," she said, handing me the packet of incense sticks. She lit a match and pulled my wrist forward.
Her brows scrunched slightly as she stepped back, releasing my wrist. She motioned to my hand and then shook her own. "Bhujao aag ko," she said.
I looked down at the burning incense sticks, shook them, and watched the fire disappear, turning into white, scented smoke.
Placing the sticks in the stand, she stepped back. I kneeled down, joining my hands together, mirroring her.
I closed my eyes as she prayed. All I could see was her. Normally, people would ask for something in this position—happiness, hopes, family, love, anything. But I didn't feel the need to ask for anything.
Because the happiness I feel right now, the hope I had that one day I'd have her, is already fulfilled. My family is complete after I found the last piece of it—her. And love... I smiled inwardly.
I love her.
Then, I whispered the true desire of my heart to the universe: "I've nothing to ask of you. Just keep my heart safe. Dil sambhalta nahi hai kyunki mere paas jo aa gayi hai woh.
Jab bhi dekhta hoon, nazar hatane ka mann hi nahi karta, aur hata li toh, do pal nahi reh pata. Dil ki baat batana toh chahta hoon, par I don't have the courage right now."
It's difficult to keep your feelings inside when your entire existence screams to tell the person that you love them, that you care for them, that you've changed just by seeing their mere eyes.
When I opened my eyes, I saw her bending down and touching her forehead to the floor. I did the same. My heart was racing, my pulse quickening. It was the first time I was seeing her pray.
Everything seemed to play in slow motion as she straightened her back, then slowly kissed her palms and rested her forehead on them.
She opened her eyes, and I helped her stand up by holding out my hand. She placed her delicate palm in mine and stood up.
While fixing her pallu, she said, "Now, let's take three rounds of it," and began walking ahead while I walked behind her. She joined her hands again, and I noticed her pallu getting dirty around the incense stick ashes.
Bending down, I grasped the pallu in my hand and walked behind her, holding it gently between my joined hands.
As we completed the first round, I emerged from behind her and saw some villagers nearby. One of them looked in our direction, then at the pallu in my hands.
Heat crept up to my face, and I felt my ears burning, but I didn't let go of the pallu and continued walking behind her, one step behind, not caring about the smiles the others were now exchanging.
Once we completed the rounds, I let go of the pallu before she turned around. I closed my eyes, standing in front of Radha Krishna, joining my hands, thanking him for everything I have in my life.
After that, she led me to a bigger hall, a few steps away from the previous one. It had three sculptures, and in the middle, a stone was placed with a Chandan stick. She sat on her hunches near it and made some paste out of it.
I lit the incense sticks just like before near each god sculpture while she sat there. I rang the bell and joined my hands. That's when I heard her speak, "Idhar aao."
Walking over to her, I mirrored her posture and sat on my hunches. Our knees grazed each other as she took some paste on her ring finger and thumb, then reached out and pushed my hair back with her other hand.
"It's kind of a tradition here to make your own powder for tika," she said, placing her ring finger on my forehead and spreading it upwards with her thumb.
Pulling back, she stared at her work. "And I always loved this tradition. Now, ab tumhari bari," she said, shifting until she was sitting comfortably.
I smiled as I looked down and ground the stick on the stone to get some powder. Then, I looked around for some water, which she pointed to, a little steel pot hanging above the Shiv Ji lingam.
Taking a few drops of water, I mixed the powder and gathered some on my ring finger. When I looked up, an eager smile was tugging at her lips.
I leaned forward and brushed the soft strands of her hair back before softly placing a dot on her forehead just above her bindi.
She extended her right hand and pointed. "Place some of it here. I always watched the ladies doing this."
I did as she said. Then, we walked out and washed our hands nearby at a tap. The weather was slightly sunny, but a cold breeze swept through as we walked a little further up the circular path.
At last, when we finished, she took the small bag of grains from me and walked towards an open area, sprinkling them, which I assumed was a bird feeding spot.
I stood there, watching her feed the pigeons. There was a subtle, graceful smile on her face as she was lost in her own world. As she stood there, I prayed to immerse myself into hers.
A small tug on my hand caught my attention, and I realized I'd been staring at the spot where she had been standing for a little too long. Turning my gaze to her, I asked, "Chalein? Is dadi coming with us?"
She shook her head. "No, she said she'll stay here and will come home on her own with her friends." I nodded, and she walked to the old man we had met earlier and took a bag of mishri from him.
As we made our way towards the car, she handed me some mishri. "Yeh yaha ka prashad hai." Crushing the sweet crystals between my teeth, I savored the sweetness of it.
I stopped midway and turned to take our footwear. Her eyes glided down from my face to the flats in my hands. I bent down and placed them near her feet.
"Thank you," she muttered as she wore them. I replied, opening the passenger door for her, "You're welcome."
She smiled and sat inside.
The ride from one temple to another was much like before. She kept talking about the surroundings and suggested that we go to the market tomorrow before we leave.
There was a constant smile on her face when she spoke, a subtle, mesmerizing one.
We reached our next destination, the temple situated on top of a mountain, where we had to cross a bridge to get inside. Several small stores selling sweets and flowers lined the front of the huge entry gate.
Stepping out of the car, I glanced at Siya and saw her taking off her flats and placing them inside the car. Seeing her, I did the same and put my shoes inside as well.
She walked toward me and, holding my arm, said, "We have to go up there, but first let's get some sweets and incense sticks." We crossed the road, the path slightly rocky, pricking our feet as we walked.
I slowed my pace to match hers when I noticed her struggling to walk. Once we crossed the road and stood in front of a small shop, she bought some sweets, mostly milk-based, along with garlands and incense sticks.
After paying the shopkeeper, I extended my hand. "Here, I'll take it." She nodded, smiling slightly, and handed me the small bag.
Crossing the slightly crowded bridge, filled with people selling various small accessories by the side, we approached the stairs.
There were about a hundred or more steps, not too many, but enough to make you feel them.
Siya touched the first step with her hand and brought it to her forehead, closing her eyes briefly before opening them again.
A smile appeared on my face as I watched her, so devoted in her actions.
She tried to reach the bell hanging above the stairs, but seeing her struggle, I held her arm and indicated for her to take a step up.
She did, and I kept holding her arm in case she lost her balance while looking up.
Once she rang the bell, the surrounding area was filled with its vibrating sound. She looked at me and smiled.
"Thanks. By the way, do you also have temples like this in your village?" she asked as we began walking up the stairs.
I answered without looking at her, "Every village has temples, Siya. They just have different gods of their own."
She stepped ahead of me, leading the way. "I know that, but I'm asking about temples with huge stairs like this." She motioned toward the stairs, then continued walking.
I shook my head. "We have huge temples, but they're on the ground, similar to the one we just visited." She nodded thoughtfully before saying,
"We should visit your hometown then. I like temples with great architectural styles." Her eyes were on the stairs now, reading the manuscript engraved on each step in Sanskrit.
I tried to read, but it all went over my head—Sanskrit is really hard, not that I ever learned it in the first place, at least not after tenth grade.
My eyes narrowed at her feet as I listened to the jingling sound of her anklets with every step. With each new step, a soothing rhythm filled the air.
I lifted my gaze to look around but then suddenly heard her yelp. "Ouch!" Her hand landed on my shoulder, and my arm instinctively wrapped around her waist to prevent her from slipping.
She hissed, and I gently brushed her hair from her face to check on her. "Hey, are you okay, Siya? What happened?" I asked, my voice filled with concern.
Her teeth sank into her lower lip, and her chin trembled slightly. Seeing her like this, an uneasy ache settled in my chest.
She didn't answer, just closed her eyes tightly. Her grip on my shoulder tightened, and I felt even more worried. I reached out and cupped her cheek, my thumb brushing over it as I asked again,
"What happened? Tell me—did you sprain your ankle?" She was putting all her weight on her left leg when I asked. Hesitantly, she nodded.
Her eyes glinted with tears, and I exhaled slowly. This was the last thing I wanted. I didn't want her to cry, and I hated seeing the tears in her eyes, even though they were the first thing I noticed three years ago.
I slowly helped her turn toward me, holding a hand in the air to block the sunlight from falling on her face. Then I reached out and wiped the tears from her cheeks with my sleeve.
The tears kept cascading down, adding more pain to my chest. Her fingers were fidgeting on my shoulder. "Accha, ab rou to mat," I said, my tone almost desperate.
She nodded but then met my gaze. "Main ro nahi rahi," she said, and I resisted the urge to pull her red cheeks to my chest. She looked cute when she lied.
I nodded, implying that I bought her lie, and murmured while running my thumb across her wet eyelids, "Toh yeh khushi ke aansu hain?" I joked, but she glared at me.
"Bola na, nahi ro rahi main—" her words were cut off when I suddenly lifted her in a bridal carry. Her hands instinctively went around my neck, and slowly, her head rested on my chest.
Over my beating heart.
My fingers flexed around her waist, trying to calm myself and keep my thoughts in check, especially since we were in the temple.
Ignoring the glances from the people around us, I kept climbing.
"Aage se dhyaan se chala karo. What if I wasn't walking behind you? You could've gotten hurt badly," I said after a long stretch when I felt that she had stopped crying.
I glanced at her face. The small red bindi on her forehead matched her red cheeks, and the kohl around her eyes had smudged slightly. Her hair was a mess.
"Nahi girungi agle baar se," she said softly, almost trying to hide her embarrassment.
I smiled. Gir bhi jaogi to main hoon na.I wanted to say it aloud but kept it in my thoughts, letting them wander along with the other unsaid words I wanted to tell her since I realized I love her.
Feeling her shrink into me, likely because of the attention we were getting, I resisted a chuckle. There was nothing wrong—I was simply carrying an injured angel in my arms.
What? She's literally an angel. You can't argue with that.
A delicate and beautiful one.
Sometimes, a bold and sassy one.
But my favorite is the feisty and adorable one.
I lifted her slightly from my arms when I stepped on the last step, standing at the entrance. I could feel her heartbeat against mine, and a warmth rushed through me.
Gently, I set her down on her feet. She gripped my arms to steady herself, scrunching her nose when she felt slightly irritated by her condition and looked down at her ankle.
To irritate her a little more, I took her pallu and acted as though I was wiping sweat from my face. I could feel her eyes on me, flickering between my face and my hand.
When I felt her hand on my wrist, I looked at her. "Kya, biwi? Ab itna bhi haq nahi hai?" I teased, though I wasn't a bit exhausted from carrying her, it wasn't hard at all.
She took the pallu from my grasp, and shockingly, she got on her tiptoes and glided the silk fabric over my forehead, wiping sweat that wasn't even there.
"Shayad thoda zyada hai," she murmured softly. My eyes stayed on her face—it was shining in the sunlight, a little differently than usual.
Suddenly, I wanted to tease her more. I licked my lips before leaning in slightly and whispering, "Aur kya-kya haq aate hain mere is 'thoda zyada' mein?" I asked, playfully.
Her eyes widened, and she took a step back but held onto my arm for support. The pallu slipped from her grasp. She looked around, then back at me, and then at everything except me.
She lifted her chin, trying to build some confidence in her eyes. "Jab batana hoga, tab bata dungi. Abhi—" her words were cut off as a couple walked behind us.
Her grip on my arm loosened just enough to slide her hand down to mine. "—Abhi chalo andar, or else it'll get crowded," she said. I intertwined our fingers and helped her walk.
Once we entered inside, she pulled my hand, making me look at her. "Help me sit there, then you'll go to the priest and give these sweets to him. And yes, don't forget to get them back. We have to distribute them downstairs."
I nodded and did as she said, helping her sit near the garden porch just across the entry gate, then took the sweets to the priest and got them back.
After praying, I walked back to her and found her sitting there, watching kids playing in the small garden.
Walking toward her, I sat beside her and handed her the box. She opened it and took out a piece of sweet, handing it to me. "It's my favorite—simple and easy to make, yet tastes expensive."
Savoring the sweet taste, I nodded. "You're right," I said. She smiled and took a bite.
I shifted to face her and gently touched her sprained ankle to inspect it, but she abruptly held my hand. "What are you doing, Veer?" She looked around, then at me.
My brows lifted in confusion. What am I doing? Checking if my wife has a serious injury or not. "I'm checking how badly you've sprained your ankle," I said nonchalantly.
She shook her head. "You can check at home, but not here." Sensing her discomfort, I nodded and stood up. "Chalein phir ghar?" I asked.
I extended my hand, and when she nodded, I helped her walk downstairs. Once we were out, I scooped her up, saying, 'We're not in the mandir anymore, and you're clearly in pain now.' and time, she let me.
The ride back home was silent. We reached in an hour, and I lifted her again, taking her into our room to inspect her sprain.
I asked a servant for the first aid kit and a few minutes later, he brought it to me. Kneeling in front of her, I gently touched her slightly swollen ankle, which had turned purplish.
Taking some Voltaren gel on my hand, I placed her ankle on my thigh and lifted the hem of her saree. Smearing the gel around, I massaged the area. I heard her hiss.
I looked up at her face and then at her hands, which were clutching the sheets tightly, probably on the verge of tearing them. "Relax, Siya. Just breathe and don't focus on your ankle," I said softly.
"But it's hurting," she murmured but opened her fists from the sheets and placed them on her lap. I stroked her skin once, twice, and on the third stroke, her teeth sank into her bottom lip.
She tried to pull her ankle back, causing the anklets to jingle in the silence. My grip didn't tighten, but I kept it steady. "At least let me finish, okay? It'll help with the pain."
Her eyes filled with tears, but she nodded and closed them, swallowing back the tears. I took my time massaging the purple area, trying my best not to hurt her in the process.
Once I was done, she slowly shifted back as I stood up. "Done?" she asked, looking at me with shiny eyes.
I nodded. "Rest now for a while. I'll ice it at night." I knelt beside her and unclasped her anklets. They were heavy, and I was sure she struggled with them. Her toes uncurl and stretch out, probably relieved now.
Laying back, she turned onto her side and closed her eyes. I shook my head and pulled the duvet over her shoulders. Walking toward the window, I closed it as the sun was about to set.
I scrolled through some documents on my phone while Siya turned frequently from one side to another until she finally fell asleep.
Later in the evening, I walked downstairs with her in my arms. She had woken up after two hours, and when I was about to go downstairs, she said she wanted to join.
As we passed the living room, I heard Dadi calling me out. I turned and faced her. "Where are you going? And you should've been careful, beta. dawai lagai tumne" she asked Siya.
Worry was evident on her face as she spoke, and Siya nodded. "Inhone lga di thi and I was being careful. It all happened in a fraction of a second, and I couldn't help but accept my fate."
"Okay, but sit here now. Don't roam around. I'll be outside; Sneha and the others are making dinner today," Dadi said, keeping her voice steady, then pointed at the living room, signaling us to go there.
I settled Siya on the couch, and she made herself comfortable, flipping through channels on the TV. Dadi turned to me and said, "Veer, beta, come with me. I want you to help me with something."
"Okay, Dadi." I nodded at Siya as she got comfortable on the couch, then followed Dadi.
She took me to the left side of the house and showed me a clay stove, which was still wet. I looked at Dadi, who was now sitting in front of it, smoothing out the surface.
"What should I do, Dadi?" I asked, placing my hands on my knees as I watched her clear the clay off her hands. "Well, you have to place this near the porch," she said.
I nodded, lifted the still-wet stove, and placed it near the porch. From my peripheral view, I noticed Siya approaching the open kitchen, hopping on one leg.
Turning my head toward her, I observed how she was speaking to them, making a little pout as if she were convincing them.
Her eyes lit up in the glow of the raw fire, and a smile glided over her lips as she sat down in front of the stove, collecting thin wooden sticks to throw into the fire.
Dadi had clearly told her not to roam around, yet there she was, sitting close to the burning stove. But as long as it wasn't harming her, I wasn't about to say anything.
I walked back to Dadi, who was attempting to stand up but failed miserably, placing her hand on her knee. Standing in front of her, I extended my hand. "Chalein, Dadi?"
She looked up, placed her hand in mine, and supported herself. A chuckle rose in her throat. "Looks like I'm getting old now," she said as she straightened her back, standing up fully, though her knees trembled a bit, as did her hand.
I narrowed my eyes at her and shook my head in disagreement, a smile tugging at my lips. "You're still young, Dadi. All you need now is some rest." I guided her toward the water tap planted near the side wall.
Letting go of my hand, she turned and washed her muddy hands. "If you say so," she replied. Suddenly, I heard a yelp, snatching my attention. I looked around and my eyes stopped at Siya.
Palming her eyes with her hands, she was trying to walk away, hopping on one leg but accidentally hit her leg on a wooden stool.
My legs moved on their own, making their way toward her. Once I was near her, I lifted her with one arm around her waist. Her legs dangled in the air as I moved her away from the black smoke, the main cause of her condition.
Her chest collided with mine, and her face was an inch above mine. I tried not to use my other hand to lift her, not wanting to ruin her saree.
But her fist came out of nowhere and landed hard on my chest, right above my heart. "Areee," I hissed.
Her brows were furrowed in confusion, and tears welled up at the corner of her eyes.
Realizing the situation, she tried to blink away the tears but failed miserably. She stroked the place where she had hit me and mumbled in a low voice, "Sorry."
Her palm kept rubbing the spot until I placed her down and pushed her gently onto a stool, resisting the urge to chuckle at her adorable behavior.
She tried to move, but I put a firm hand over hers. "Don't move."
She nodded hesitantly, lifting her hand to rub her eyes, but I grasped her wrist and placed her hands back on her lap.
Rubbing her eyes in this situation could only make things worse, and getting smoke in your eyes was just as painful as getting chili in them.
I turned and washed my muddy hand quickly, then pulled out a handkerchief from my pocket, dampened it with water, and sat on my haunches facing her.
Softly, I rubbed it around her eyes, cleaning the moisture. Her eyes fluttered at my touch, and it took all my willpower not to kiss her eyes and wipe away the tears.
Closing my eyes for a second, I exhaled, trying to calm my urges. Then, I spoke in a subtle and caring tone, "Dhyan kahan rehta hai tumhara, Mrs. Oberoi? What are you even doing here? Shouldn't you be in the living room?"
I should've told her—or better yet, lifted her up and taken her back to the living room to keep her from roaming around with an injured ankle. Not to mention, she had burned her eyes with smoke.
Her eyes opened slowly, still blinking rapidly. She looked at me, a slight smile tugging at her lips as she said, "vo, I was getting bored in there. Everyone was outside. What was I supposed to do alone, Mr. Oberoi?"
She jutted her chin up in the cutest way, her lips pushing forward as if justifying her actions. But all it did was make it harder for me not to kiss her lips.
I shrugged. "Could've watched TV," I suggested, cleaning her hands. The roughness of the wooden sticks was still on them, and there was a slight smell of mustard oil.
She shook her head adorably, scrunching her nose. "I'm done with those old television channels. Can't they just ban them or something?" she said with a bored tone.
I nodded in understanding and then commented, referring to the spot she was sitting just now, "If you were that bored, you should've just stayed there and not done things you've never done."
"I've done that before. What happened just now was a silly mistake. I was supposed to close my eyes while blowing air to fan the fire, but I kept them open," she explained, her eyes flickering to my face.
I hummed, brushing my thumb across her cheek, grazing it gently on her soft skin. "Hmm, lean forward," I said, pushing my sleeves up to my elbow and shifting on my heels to get some water.
"Huh?" she asked, almost absentmindedly, her eyes widening a bit with confusion.
"Lean forward so I can wash your eyes. I'm sure you're feeling some sting at the corner of your eyes," I repeated, grasping her hand and pulling her forward, which brought our faces close.
Her enchanting hazel eyes locked with mine, causing a rush in my heart. My fingers tightened around her hand in response.
Her innocent gaze flickered between mine, then widened as her eyes turned doe-shaped when she leaned back.
I bit my inner cheek, suppressing the urge to pull her closer. "I can do it myself," she mumbled, clearing her throat.
I was about to say, 'I'll do it.' when Dadi's faint voice reached me before she appeared in front of us with a servant. Siya had washed her eyes and wiped the moisture with the handkerchief.
"You should've been careful, beta," Dadi said, bending to her level to check her eyes. After confirming everything was fine, she turned to me.
"Take her to the living room. I'll send dinner, or else she'll break her bones the next time."
Siya whined dramatically and dropped her hands to her sides.
I nodded, turning toward Siya. Her expression fell when she noticed me bending down to lift her in bridal style. Her hands instinctively wrapped around my neck for support, but I didn't miss the shock in her pretty eyes.
It was the fifth time I'd lifted her in one day, and I wouldn't mind if God gave me this job. Like I said before, she's an angel, and nothing is better than carrying an angel.
My lips feathers over her head and I lean and pressed them further, she didn't notice and I smile internally.
She'll be the death of me for sure.
Write a comment ...