Khadoos – Hold Me, Please – One Shot – Thipkyanchi Rangoli ( Part II Updated)

This is a one shot – a piece of fanfiction – written on the characters, Shashank and Apurva from the show named Thipkyanchi Rangoli that airs on Star Pravah from Monday to Saturday at 10 p.m.

| p a r t   o n e

“Have you lost it, Mr. Shashank Kanitkar? What are you trying to prove by doing all these things? You think I care if you fall sick, standing here in this rain?”

“You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t care, Mrs. Shashank Kanitkar!” 

Damn, this man! He knew her far too better for her liking. She clutched the umbrella tighter before moving closer to take him under it. “Don’t be childish, Khadoos. Go home. You have nothing here.”

“My everything is here.” 

Ugh. She rolled her eyes while internally cursing her heart that still couldn’t stop falling for his words but she knew it better – neither his words nor his feelings could be trusted. 

“Wrong, Mr. Kanitkar. Tuzi Radha ithe rahat nahi. Ticha ghar tu visarlas ka ha prashna vicharun mi maza murkhapana punha ekda dakhavnar nahi aani tarihi tu ithe ka aala aahes ha prashna vicharnyat mala ras nahi so… leave? Tuzi Radha waat baghat asel tuzi!”

“Mazi Radha, Rukhmini, Meera ithech rahte aani ata mazya samor ubhi aahe!”

What the heck? Did this man attend some writing workshop or what? How come he suddenly got so good with words? Or has he always been and she did not notice? She shut her eyes for a moment, ridiculing herself for the kind of thoughts that she was entertaining at that moment. 

“He sagla tu tevha nahi bollas arey jevha ti tula Krushna aani swatala Radha mhanat hoti?”

“Tila kahihi mhanu de. Tichya mhannyane kay hotay? Tuza mazya peksha jast vishwas tichyavar ka aahe?”

“Tuzyapasunach shikliye mi. Tuza nahi ka aadhipasunch tichyavar vishwas? Tichyavar vishwas thevun nahi ka tu mala dushta, nishthoor, appal-appal kay vagere te tharavun mokla zala hotas?”

“I did apologize for that.”

“When? Why don’t I remember?”

“Apurva…”

“He bagh, Khadoos. Mi thakliye. Mala ektila sod!”

“Ek aathavda zalaay tula ithe yeun!”

“Ek aathavda lagla tula ithe yayla!”

“You wanted space.”

“You forced me to want space, Khadoos. You know what? Forget it. Tula ithe ubha rahaycha aahe? Raha. Mi… jatey!“

He grabbed her arm, pulling her back. “Netra aani mazyat kahihi nahiye, Apurva. Mazya manat aaleli tu pahili mulgi aahe aani shevatchi asashil. I agree… tu je pahila, aikla tyanantar tula maza chehra hi baghaycha nahi aahe pan mala fakt itkach sangaycha aahe… pratyek veli goshti jashya distat tashyach astil asa nasta. Kadhi kadhi… dolyansamoril disnara satya suddha varun khaalparyant khota asta. Fakt khota!”

She sighed. His words, logic, and justifications had always been beyond her. 

She turned around to get herself out of his sight but knowing that moving away meant taking her protection off him and letting the rain mercilessly attack him, her feet refused to let her walk.

Why did he have to come here in the first place? Ugh. If she could kick him, she would have gladly done the honors but she had been giving him the silent treatment. 

Bickering and fighting meant going back to what they used to share and she wasn’t going to give him that satisfaction. Not after the torment that he had been putting her through.

Khadoos was just Khadoos. She inhaled a deep breath before grabbing his hand without turning back and wordlessly dragged him inside the farmhouse where she had been staying for the past week.

Netra had been getting on her nerves from the very beginning but the intensity with which she had started attacking her after she married Shashank had crossed the line. 

The day when she made the Radha-Krushna comment and Shashank chose silence was the day she had decided that she needed a break. 

From her so-called cousin.

From the fact that her so-called cousin was after her husband.

From the reality that her so-called cousin and her temptation to humiliate her was never going to see an end.

And from… her husband who preferred silence no matter how appalling his assistant would get.

But she wasn’t willing to go back to her father’s house. She wasn’t willing to let anyone see the cracks in her marriage. Why she made an excuse to come to Dr. Kaushik’s farmhouse!

While she had claimed that she was coming here to relax for a while before pulling up her socks for her exams, almost everyone knew what the matter was. 

Kanitkars had made no attempt to hold her back. She just had to say that she wanted to stay at the farmhouse for a while and everyone nodded their heads except for one – her husband who had been visibly bummed out that whole evening, night and even the next day when she left. 

He had come up with a whole lot of lame excuses to not let her go but she had made up her mind. When his attempts had become persistently annoying, she had to spell it out to him that she needed space. 

And that was how he had stayed unusually quiet while watching her leave for the farmhouse. 

“Ae… halu…” he said, slightly taken aback when she pushed him inside the farmhouse before keeping the umbrella aside and locking the door. 

“You reap what you sow, Mr. Kanitkar. You’ll be treated just how you treat others,” she commented before turning toward him. 

“Is this how I treat you, Apurva?” His voice gave away that her harsh comment had hurt his heart. Without caring about his drenched clothes and the throbbing headache that standing in the rain has gifted him, he walked up to her. “Is… this how… I treat you? When was the last time I pushed you?” 

Her lips twitched into a bitter smile. “Everything doesn’t have to be physical, Mr. Kanitkar. You may not have pushed me physically but mentally and emotionally… you have ruined me.” 

His heart broke. Guilt had not let him have a single peaceful night after she had come to the farmhouse and now the sharp arrows of words that she was aiming at him weren’t letting him have a single moment to breathe. 

As if his own guilt wasn’t enough to suffocate him that she was coming up with arrow after arrow dipped in the torment he had put her through, covered by the mirage of her fury. 

“I have… ruined you?” His broken heart wished to hear nothing but no. Nothing but no. 

“You haven’t?” She put forth her question in response to his question, letting down the tiny hope that he was holding onto. “Let’s count the gifts you’ve brought for me after we got married. 1. Hurtful judgments. 2. Insensitive accusations. 3. Baseless blames. 4. Unwillingness to trust. 5. Heartbreaking insecurities. 6. Miserable silence. Want me to go on, Khadoos? I don’t think you do. I’ll get you something to change into. You can’t stay in these wet clothes for long.”

His wet fingers held her hand when she was making her way toward her room. “Jar itkaach traas dilaay mi tula tar mazi itki kalji? Ka? Kashasathi? Jar tuzya nazret mi tya layak aahech nahi tar mala nakoy he sagla…” 

She looked back at him for a brief moment before taking his hand off hers. “Kasa asta na, Khadoos… nazrela kahihi watu de… jo paryant mann tharvun basla asta ki tyala rebel ch vhyacha aahe… can’t help it.”

“Mhanje tuzya manaat… mi ajunahi aahe?”

“Mi asa kuthe mhatla?”

“Tu je mhatla tyacha artha toch nighto.”

“Mag vicharto kashala? Tasahi tula je watate tech tuzya sathi khara aste… barobar aste. Mazya bolnyane farak kay padto? Padto ka, Khadoos? Aso. Mi kapde aante.” 

“Apurva!”

She had just taken a couple of steps when his voice brought her feet to a halt. 

“Farak… padto!” 

Her fingers involuntarily clutched the piece of her dress as his words hit her ears rather… her heart. 

“Apurva,” he murmured, watching her fade from his sight, “kasa samjavu mi tula… tu mazyasathi kay aahes!”

*

“He ghe, Khadoos… ja change karun ghe. Sardi hoil nahitar!” 

“He…” He shot her a surprised look after looking at the clothes that her hands were holding. “He tar… maze kapde aahet na? Ithe kase?” His heart couldn’t stop the silent happy dance that it had already begun. He took a step toward her. “Tu aanles? Mazi aathawan mhanun?” 

“Chukine aale bag madhe maze kapde pack kartana…” She averted his gaze from him before forcefully making him hold the clothes.

She waited for him to go to get changed so that she could have a moment for herself after the blunt lie that she had just spoken but when several long seconds passed and he showed no signs of leaving, she got her gaze back on him.

Her brows knitted together as she grew annoyed upon watching that mischievous smile on his face. “Hasayla kay zala? Mi joke marlay?”

“Tasach kahitari…” he said, earning a glare from her. 

“Mhanje?”

He dropped the clothes on the couch behind him before leaning forward. Tucking her hair strands behind her ear, he whispered to her, “Mhanje… mazi bayko aahe na… tila asa watata ki ti khota bolnyat tarbez aahe pan tila mahit nahi… tichya navryala… sagla kalta…“

She couldn’t be more relieved that he backed off right at his last word. She didn’t have the liberty to admit to even her own self that her husband looked quite tempting with that transparent white shirt clinging to his chest and his wet hair just made him look so much more handsome than he already was. 

She cleared her throat, stubbornly dragging herself out of the admiring his features session and pushed him to pick the clothes and get changed. “Ja. I won’t be taking care of you if you fall sick!” 

“Liar. You will be on your toes forgetting if it’s the day or the night if I fall sick, Mrs. Kanitkar!”

“You are delusional, Mr. Kanitkar!”

“Am I really, Mrs. Kanitkar?”

“JA!” 

He laughed when she strode forward, pressed her hands on his back and began to push him. “Jatoy. Jatoy…”

“Hush!” She plopped down on the couch, slapping her forehead. Why do you have to be so predictable, Apurva Vartak Kanitkar? He got it in seconds that you deliberately brought his clothes. Ugh. She slammed her fists on the couch, throwing her head back. 

Dammit. She let out a silent curse when her eyes caught the wet floor. “KHADOOS… I hate you!” 

Could her timing get any worse? The past couple of days had just gotten her more anxious than ever before and she had ended up informing the whole staff that they could not come for the next three days.

They had persistently refused, asking her how she would manage alone and informing her that Dr. Kaushik might just fire them if they came to know of that.

She was the one to assure them that she would manage and it would stay between them only.

Who knew her husband was going to knock on the door this very night? 

“Mhanje aata he sagla mala pusayla lagnar? Arey yaar… Ka aalas tu ithe, Khadoos? Ghari dokyacha taap wadhavtos aani ithe… maza kaam…” She spent a minute crying over her fate before rising to her feet to get a mop to wipe the floor.

*

“Apurva, aik na… Maza zara… doka dukhtay!” 

She opened her eyes when he came out after freshening up. She had just gotten done with cleaning the floor. “Kahi khalla nasnar aahe, mag doka nahi dukhnar tar kay udya marnar,” she muttered, rolling her eyes. 

“Aiklay mi!”

“MAG? Aiklay tar kay? Tula watate mi ghabarte tula?” Within moments, she was on her feet and charged toward him. As she got her hands on his collar, he could just grin. 

“You’ve lost it, Khadoos. Hastoys kay. Boltoys kay. Kartoys kay. You… have lost it!” Annoyed by the constant stupid smile on his face, she left his collar. 

“Bara aik na… mala kharach bhuk lagli aahe. Tula bhetayla yaycha hota mhanun kahi na khatach nighalo sakali. Aani tu ithe gharat ghyala nakar dila. Aani -“

“Bas bas. Thesis lihaychi garaj nahi aahe, Mr. Scientist Kanitkar. Kalalay mala ki tula bhuk lagliye. Pan ek problem aahe!” 

“Problem? Kay?”

“Te… um….” Her hand slipped in her hair as she contemplated how to break it to him. 

“Te… um… kay? Bol!” He failed to understand what it was that she was hesitating so much about. 

“Mi saglya staff la sutti dili aahe!” she blurted out, stomping her foot. 

“Kay?” Shocked, he didn’t know if she was saying the truth. How was she managing here alone if this was indeed true? He was about to ask her about the same when his smart mind stopped him and changed his words before they could escape his lips.

“Ah… staff la sutti diliye tu? Mi tar tula chetkin asach gamtit mhanaycho. Tu tar khari khuri chetkin nighalis. Magical powers aahe tuzyakade. Tula aadhich mahiti hota mi yenar aahe mhanun dili na staff la sutti?” He nudged her, irritating her with that teasing tone of his. 

“Actually, Khadoos…” she said, her eyes and tone suddenly softening as she encircled her hands around his neck, “tu mhantoy te kharah aahe. Mhanunch diliye mi saglyana sutti…” 

His eyes that widened in shock stared at her in a daze as she traced the skin of his cheek with her finger.  

“Mala mahiti hota tu yenar aani…” She leaned forward and stopped near his ear. “AANI MAZA KAAM WADHAVNAR!” She yelled, making him pull himself away. “Mala torture karun ghyacha hota swatala. Mhanun dili sutti!” 

“Aga halu. Kiti oradtes…” He slapped his palms on his ears, shaking his head. 

“Tu kashala faltu boltoys… Mala oradnyacha shauk nahi aahe, kalala, Khadoos? Tu mala ordayala lavtoys!” 

“Bara. Bara. I am sorry.” He held his hands up in surrender, apologizing for even he didn’t know what. “Te jau de. Mala sang mag tu kay khalla aaj?”

“Maggi!” she said as a matter of fact, flicking her hair.

“Maggi? Seriously? Maggi kon khata?”

“Kon khata mhanje? Mi khate!” She looked at him with what kind of question is even this before adding, “Moreover, mala jast kahi banavta hi nahi yet. Maggi was the easiest option I had.”

“Easiest and as unhealthy as it could be…. I think you forgot to add that,” he said, folding his hands across his chest.

“Arey yaar, not again!” She dragged herself back to the couch and sat down, taking a pillow in her lap. “Tu kay ithe mazyasobat Maggi Khavi Ki Nahi yavar debate karayla aala ahe? Bore nako karu yaar, Khadoos. Please for once… for once… act your age, will you?”

“Excuse me?” He walked to her. “I act my age only. Tu lahan mulisarkhi wagte. Pan harkat nahi. Mala aawadtes…” He smiled, patting her cheek. “Ashich. Mi tula kadhi sangitla nahi pan… cute aahe tu. Mala aawadte mazi cute lahan bayko!“

She faked surprise as she asked him, “Really, Khadoos? Tula mi aawadte? Mi? Mala watla tula Netra Tai aawadte arey! Krishna chi Radha na ti.” 

His head fell backward. “Apurvaaa! Sod na aata te. Tech pakdun basnar aahes ka tu?”

“Ka sodaycha mi? Sang na, Khadoos… ka sodaycha mi? Actually you know what? Sodla asta mi. Jar jevha ti te sagla bolat hoti tevha jar tu thambavla asta tila kiva at least clear jari kela asta ki ti he sagla nahi mhanu shakat kiva tuzyasathi tuzi Radha kon aahe… tar sodla asta mi. Pan tu kahich bolla nahi karan… tuzyahi manat tech aahe na. Netra Tai ch watate na tula tuzi Radha. Farak bas evdha aahe ki ti te bolu shakte aani tu… nahi. Mag tu kashala kahi bolshil… aani thik aahe. Mala kahi… problem vagere nahi aahe. Tu -“

He shushed her non-stop blabbering self by placing his index finger on her lips. “Tula… kahi mhanje kahich problem nahi aahe? Kharach, Apurva? Suppose jar tu mhantes tasa mala Netra mazi Radha watat asti tar tula..  kahich problem nasta?”

She furiously turned her head to her left and right but her slightly moistened eyes dominated the mask of anger that she had worn. 

His finger slipped from her lips underneath her chin. “Ho? Pan tuza chehra tar vegalch kahitari sangtoy mala…” 

Her eyes poured into his as she lost herself in the moment that he had created but a sudden flash of lightning snapped her out of her reverie. As one of her oldest fears came back to scare her, she clung to him, wrapping her hands around his torso. 

“Shant-shant… shant ho, Apurva.” He was instantly at his job of comforting his wife who still seemed to be having a hard time dealing with the heavy rain and the lightning. 

“Mala mahiti aahe mi aaj ithe nasto tari tu manage kela asta. Agadi lahan hoti tevha karu shaklis tar aata tar… mala fakt ek goshta sang. Mi ithe aata tuzya sobat aahe… does it make a difference?” He continued to stroke her hair as the lightning refused to give them a break. 

She lifted her head and he just smiled before tucking her hair strands that seemed to be disturbing her behind her ears. Even after he was done, he caught a strand returning to dance on her cheek. 

Her quiet orbs spoke way more than any amount of words could have as they looked at the man who was taking care of her hair bothering her in the most loving way anyone ever had. 

“Does it make a difference, Apurva? Mazya asnyane… farak padto?” 

She heard him ask again, reminding her that he was waiting for her answer. She let her hands fall down from his waist before she hugged the pillow in her lap. 

“Farak padto,” she murmured and he couldn’t stop smiling. Had she not been stubborn and spared him a glance at that moment, she would have known that those two words meant the world to him. 

| p a r t   t w o

“Chal mi kahitari banavto aaplyasathi!” He deliberately avoided taking forward the farak padto topic, knowing he was going to get a lot of chances to touch it later. 

“Ek-ek minute,” she said, jumping on the floor, “aaplyasathi? Tu tuzyasathi banav. Mala kahi nakoy!”  

How much could this woman lie? He wondered. He had seen her rubbing her forehead minutes ago which she did whenever she was hungry and now that he himself was offering to make her something to eat, she was pretending to not need it. 

“Tula nako asel,” he said, nodding his head in acknowledgment of her words anyway, and placed his hand on her stomach, “pan yala havay na…”

She slapped his hand away. “Koni sangitla?”

“Tyanech. Vichar tyala… tyala havay ki nahi kahi khayla… to paryant mi kitchen madhe baghto kay banavta yeil te, okay? Tu bol tuzya potashi…” He patted her head before walking to the kitchen. 

Once he was gone, she looked at her stomach. Good. Very good. Tu hi ban tyacha bhakt. Sangat ja tyala sagla. Murkha! She followed her husband after she finished cursing her yet another organ that had joined the gang of Khadoos’s loyal disciples. 

As if her heart hopelessly chanting his name every now and then wasn’t enough… as if her eyes setting a new benchmark of honesty and letting him see through her every time they looked into his eyes wasn’t enough… that now even her stomach had begun to reveal her secrets to him?

What the heck was happening?

Khadoos sure did know some kind of magic, she was sure otherwise how he was captivating and hypnotizing her senses had no logical explanation.  

She pulled the brakes of her thoughts that were all about him when she reached the kitchen. She leaned onto the side of the door, watching him taking out vegetables from the refrigerator. 

She might criticize him for the boring outfits his body wore every now and then but she was in awe of the aura his soul was wrapped in. 

The aura that made her feel safe even on the stormy nights that she was terrified of. 

Her gaze went out of the kitchen window and the flash of lightning made her jump in her place, making her clutch the door but all that it took her to calm down was – a brief glance at his face that made sure that nothing else grabbed her attention. 

“Khadoos,” she murmured before stepping inside the kitchen. “Kay banavtoy?”

Surprised by the sudden tap on his shoulder, he looked behind and caught her. “Tu ithe? Tu bas na hall madhe. Mi banavto kahitari aani gheun yeto, hmm?” He touched her arm, assuring her to go and relax while he was cooking before he took the vegetables to wash. 

“Mi nahi janar,” she declared as she followed him all the way to the sink and sat on the kitchen counter where he was washing the vegetables. 

“Ka?” he casually asked while thoroughly washing the tomatoes in his hands with the water, “ektila bhiti watate? Pan Apurva Vartak Kanitkar tar kashalach ghabrat nahi na?” 

“Arey… khara tech bollo mi…” he said when his words earned him a smack.

“Tu mazya jevnaat zopechya golya mix karun mala kidnap karun gheun gelas parat tar? Mhanun thambtey mi. Tuzyavar laksh thevayla,” she reasoned. 

He sharpened his eyes at her for a long moment before resuming his work. He began chopping onions, secretly smiling to himself, knowing that his silence was annoying her. 

He halted his knife and looked at her. “Idea changli aahe, Shishta.” He grinned, lightly hitting her forehead with his. 

“Ah! Kay kartoys…” She slapped his arm before rubbing her forehead.

“Kay kartoy mhanje kay? Tuzyasathi jevan banavtoy…” He held the knife in the air in front of her. 

“Tu jevan nahi Bheja-Fry banavtoy!” 

He laughed. “Bheja fry karayla aadhi Bheja asawa lagto, Shishta aani -“

“Jo mazyajaval nahi aahe?” She jumped down on the floor, ready to snatch the knife from his hand and cut him into pieces as tiny as he had cut the onions. 

“Mi asa kuthe mhnalo?”

“Tula tech mhanaycha hota! Tu-tu… khadoos aahes, Khadoos. Ek number cha khadoos aahes tu.”

“Arey… Apurva…. Apurva! Aik na. Tasa navta- geli!” He smiled, shaking his head as she stormed out of the kitchen. “Tula kidnap karun nyaycha asta tar kadhich nela asta, Apurva. Mala tu swatahun mazyasobat yayla havi aahe aani tu… yeshil karan maza prem khara aahe, Apurva. Maza prem kuthlyahi gairsamjapudhe haru shakat nahi. Mi haru denar nahi!”  

*

Apurva sat on the couch in the hall and switched on the Television. No matter what happens, I won’t go to the kitchen now. No. No. No. No matter how tempting it may be to watch Khadoos cook, I… WON’T! She was determined. 

She started changing channels, hoping to find something that would hold her whole attention, without letting her mind go back to wandering in the lanes of Khadoos. 

“SHINCHAN! YESSS!” She squealed in joy, clapping her hands as she kept the remote aside.

“Kay g? Kay zala?”

She heard him yell from the kitchen. 

“Tu tuza kaam kar. Ugach ikade tikde laksh nako ghalus!” She yelled back and got her attention back to Shinchan who was annoying Himawari. 

Leaning back on the couch, she distracted herself with Shinchan and his mischievous antics.

Minutes later when Shashank came out of the kitchen to call her to the dining table to eat, his feet stopped when his eyes caught the carefree child in her laughing like never before. 

He followed her gaze to the Television screen to find out who it was who was capable of making her smile so wholeheartedly. He felt a twinge of jealousy at the thought of someone making her happy more than he could but he was quick to dismiss it when he watched the cartoon on the screen. 

Hush. A silent relief rushed through him and he moved toward her. “Chal… jevan tayaar aahe!” 

She looked at him for a second before dragging her gaze back to the Television screen. “Mala ka sangtoys? Mi tula aadhich sangitla hota ki mala… nakoy!”

Still, being stubborn? He could only shake his head but he should have known that she wouldn’t agree so easily. “Aani mi suddha tula sangitla hota ki tula jari nako asla tari tuzya potala havay tyacha kay? Hatta karu nakos, Apurva. Mala mahiti aahe tula bhuk lagliye. Chal patakan!”

“YENAR NAHI… sangitla na ekda?” She cocked her head to one side as a deep frown crossed her face. 

“Tu kay lahan aahes ka g cartoon baghayla? Band kar te aani chal jevayla!” 

“Ho aahe mi lahan! Khush? Zala samadhan? Ja ithun aata!” 

He slapped his forehead before walking forward to grab the remote that was lying beside her. “Hashtag lahan mule aani tyanche nakhre,” he muttered while turning off the Television. As he turned toward her, he held his hand out for her.

“Chala aata!”

She momentarily stilled when he slipped his hand around her waist and effortlessly lifted her as if she weighed not a gram more than a feather. 

While he was carrying her to the dining table, he looked at the woman in his arms who he caught already staring at him. Oh, how much he had missed her orbs beholding him in them as if he was their favorite sight to adore. Nobody had ever looked at him the way she did. 

Who was he? A bookworm? A scientist who cared more about his readings than his meals? A boring guy whose dressing sense was as bland as it could have been? What did he even have to have her look at him that way? From the very beginning! 

Her unblinking stare at him and her loud clapping even after everyone sat down was the memory his heart had pleaded to his brain to keep safe for as long as his heart was alive and beating. 

He placed her on the chair when they reached the dining area. The moment she was out of his arms was the moment she was snapped out of her zone. 

All of a sudden, her face fell as her heart silently questioned – why couldn’t he hold her for a little longer? 

He quietly served her the Pulao that he had made. 

She looked at her plate before scanning the dining table. “Ekach plate?” Didn’t he say that he was hungry? Where was his plate? 

“Tu suru kar. Mi bas aaloch!”

Kay challay yacha kahi kalatach nahi. She sighed as he headed toward the kitchen. She pushed aside the plate and rested her chin on the table. 

“Tu suru nahi kela ajun?” 

She looked up upon hearing him and caught a spoon in his hand. 

“Tula mhatla hota na mi bas aaloch mhanun. Tula bhuk sahan hot nahi, Apurva. Kay tu pan… suru karaycha na. Mi yetach tar hoto…” 

She stared at him when he started blabbering while quickly pulling a chair beside her. 

He put his spoon on her plate before taking her spoon and filling it with Pulao. 

“Ghe patkan khaun ghe,” he said, holding the spoonful of Pulao in front of her. “Ghe na…” He nudged her, breaking her trance. 

She looked at the spoon for a long moment and as stubbornly as she wanted to deny, neither her exhausted heart nor her hungry stomach had any strength to resist. She quietly let him feed her the Pulao. 

Astonishment filled her orbs at the huge smile that she got to see on his face once she ate from his hand. Did she really matter to him? His gestures screamed that she did.

Her fingers clutched the corner of the table as suddenly her face went devoid of emotions. 

“Ae, Apurva… you okay?” He dropped the spoon on the plate, concerned upon glancing at her poker face. 

His elbow rested on the table as he shifted his chair to sit facing her. Taking her hand in his, he covered it with his other hand. “Mala mahiti ahe tula khup traas zalay. Mi dila nasla tari mazyamule zalay. Tuzya dokyat aata kay challay te hi mala mahiti aahe.”

“Tula saglach mahit asta asa tula watata, Khadoos. Mazya dokyat aata kay suru aahe he tula kadhich kalnar nahi!”

“Mala kahich mahit nasta asa tula watata, Shishta. Tuzya dokyat aata kay suru aahe yachi purna kalpana aahe mala!” 

She sighed, giving up already. “Tuzi plate kuthe aahe?”

Catching the hint that she didn’t have it in her to hold that conversation at that moment, he grabbed the plate from the table and held it in his hand. “Hi kay. Ji tuzi plate tich mazi plate!”

She cocked a brow. “Khadoos, ek prashna vicharu?”

He hummed, preparing the next spoon for her. 

“Have you ever been to a psychiatrist?”

He was separating the onions from the Pulao because she disliked them when he heard her. “Kay?”

“Tula jayla pahije, Khadoos. Hmm. Mala watatay…” 

He rolled his eyes at her dramatic pause. “Kay watatay, Apurva?” 

“Split Personality Disorder. Mhanje bagh na. Kadhi tu itka Khadoos astos ki asa watata ki tuzyabarobar ek minute suddha nahi rahava pan kadhi… kadhi itka sweet… caring… sahaj astos ki asa watata… tu mazya aayushyat aadhi ka nahi aalas? Mi tula aadhi ka nahi bhetle? Itke varsh… tu ka navtas… mazyajaval?”

His gaze stayed glued to the plate in his hand as he heard her distraught voice. 

“Khadoos… tu mala aadhi ka nahi bhetlas? Netra Tai la bhetaychya aadhi? Jar bhetla astas… tar kadachit… kadachit tu aaj… mazya premat astas. Pan… thik aahe. Tuza Netra Tai var prem aahe. Tula tichyasobat rahaycha aahe. Aani mi… mi… tichyasarkhi kadhich hou shakat nahi. Pan tu ajibaat tension nako gheu, Khadoos. Ek varsh sampayachi waat baghayla nahi lavnar mi tula. Mi tula aadhich divorce deil. Mi ithun ghari parat aali ki pahila kaam… divorce papers sign karna asel aani aani- “

“Shh. Bas. Bas.” He held her by her arms, giving a squeeze to her hyper self that was blabbering without a pause. 

“Aani mag tu tichyabarobar rahu shakshil jichyavar tuza prem -“

“APURVA!” He placed his palm on her cheek. “Bas! Shant ho!” 

As reality hit, she looked at his hand on her cheek before the realization dawned upon her. 

He sat shaken by the emotions she brought out of him when she launched herself in his arms. “Tuza ka nahiye prem mazyavar, Khadoos? Tula ka mi nako aahe? Mala… tula sodun nahi jaychay. Tuza ka nahiye prem mazyavar?”

He couldn’t form a coherent response to comfort her as she sobbed, fisting his T-shirt. 

He hadn’t expected to deal with what he was having to deal with. He was prepared to deal with his infuriated wife but having her so vulnerable in front of him put him at a loss for words. 

This is going to be a one shot but I will be posting this in parts because writing the whole thing might take me a while so I thought, posting in parts would be nice since you can have something to read till I finish.

The rest of the parts will be updated on this very same page as I write so you can bookmark this for easy access.

Your feedback encourages me to write more, better and faster so if you can take out a minute or two and share your views – it would be great.

Thank you for reading. I hope you had a good time.
Much love.

A/N -Since I rarely plan what I write, a lot of things get changed in the shot by the time I reach the end so know that there could be changes in this part as well by the time I finish the story (also one of the reasons why I don’t like posting in parts and sharing before I am done) but you’ll get it when you’ll read it as a whole in the end. 🙂