“Tuza na… kahi kalatach nahi mala, Apurva! Mi javal yeto tevha lamb kay paltes. Mi dur jato tevha javal kay yetes! Kay… nakki chaal-lay kay tuza?” “Chaal-lay? Konacha? Maza? Chhe!” She locked her stupid hands behind her back that were still dying to touch his hair. Had he not woken up, they would have been …
“Ekda sangitla na tya bag pasun lamb raha mhanun? Kalat nahi tula? Pratyek goshtit hatta karaylach hava? Shishta kuthli!” “Shishta kuthli? SHISHTA KUTHLI? Eka bag saathi aaj itkya divasanantar tu mala Shishta mhanalas? Eka bag saathi? Khadoos kuthla! Aata tar mi nahich denar bag! Baghu de na mala hi asa konta khajina lapavun thevla aahes te!” “APURVA, NAHI!” …
“Mhanje tula aapli anniversary lakshat hoti tar… Mag sakali itaki natka ka kelit?” “Nahi, te tasa nahi-“ “Mag kasa? Haan, Apurva? Tasa nahi tar mag kasa? Bol, patkan bol. Aiktoy mi!” “Arey tula kashala nastya chaukashya karaychya aahe? Dila aahe bouquet tar swatala lucky samjun chupchap thevun ghe na? Apurva Vartak kadun bouquet milna kay …
“Tu udyapasun mala ghyala yaycha nahi… bas.” She put her foot down, hurling her bag on the bed. “Pan ka, Apurva?” Shashank followed her to the dressing table where she sat, trying to take her earrings off that seemed to be stuck. “Ae aga halu,” he gasped, gripping her wrist when he caught her furiously …
“Khadoos, chal na, please.” “Ajibaat nahi aani tula kiti vela sangitla aahe… ashya faltu goshti madhe mala ghyaycha nahi mhanun?” “Faltu? FALTU? Museum baghayla jana faltu watata tula? Arey scientist aahes na tu?” “Mulat ya don goshtincha kahi ek sambandha nahiye aani tu ekda vichar karun bagh… tuzya sarkhi bayko astana mala kharach museum baghayla …
“Ithe yenar hotis tar at least shawl gheun yaychi na…,” he said, wrapping her in her favorite pink shawl that he had bought for her, hiding her from the biting cold of December, “nahi tar mala tari sangaycha. Mi aanun dili asti. Itkya thandit, itkya ratri mazi bayko ithe terrace var basun aajari padli tar? …
“Parat asa kadhi kela tar bagh! Asa kasa gela tu mala na bhetata Bangalore la? Mi uthle nahi mhanun tu mala uthavla hi nahi?” Breaking the hug, she began hitting on his arm. “Mean Khadoos Kanitkar.” “Ae-ae… lagtay mala…” He brought his bag at the front to his defense but it was on the floor …
“Apu-Apurva, ae aapan rastyat aaho. Ar-ey… loka baghat aahe,” he muttered while trying to get her to keep some distance between them but she just tightened her hold around him. “Mag? Loka baghat aahe tar kay? Ain’t my fault if they’ve nothing else to do!” He mentally facepalmed at his wife’s indifference toward the several …
“Khadoos…” “Hmm?” “Aapan eka varsha nantar vegle zalyanantar suddha tu mala bhetayla yet jashil?” “Mi bhetayla aalela chalel tula?” “Aawdel mala! Aapan itke divas sobat rahlo, Khadoos. Kiti sambhalun ghetla arey tu mala ya eka varshat. Mi radle tevha tu hotas… mala haswayla! Padle tevha tu hotas… mala uchlayla. Dhadpadle tevha suddha… tu hotas… mala …
“Tula jaychach ahe tar?” Her brows rose as she bit back a smile before halting her packing. “Ka? Tula mala jau dyaycha nahi ahe ka?” He narrowed his eyes at her for a brief moment before mentally smacking himself for revealing his distress so bluntly for her to tease. “Che… ajibat nahi. Asa kahihi NAHI …
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“Tu nehmi asach ka nahi rahu shakat, Khadoos?” “Asa kasa?” “Asa… jasa aata… ya kshani aahe… tasa!” “Mhanje? Mala nahi kalala! Nit sang!” She raised her head from his shoulder just enough to steal a glance at him. Staring at the confusion in his orbs, she shifted closer, placing her head back where she had …
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