Khadoos – Stop, Please – Thipkyanchi Rangoli

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.

“Mhnalo jari aslo mi, ekda nahi kityekda,
Kadhi tuzya premat nahi padu denar swatala.
Pan mann kuthe orders ghete?
Prem kadhi tharavun hote?
Tuzya save jeevnaat aalet sagle rang,
Tuzyat guntun ulgadale mala jagnyache khare marm!
Tuzyashivaay aata paryant kasa jaglo mahit nahi mala,
Pan aata tuzyashivaay asnyachi ashakya aahe kalpana!
Tuch maze sur, tuch maza taal,
Kartoy manya aaj- Appu chya premat veda zalaay Shashank!
– IAdoreYouCreates

 “Khadoos, aapan asech rahu na? Tu mazyasobat aani. Mi… tuzyasobat.”

“Kayam!”

It had been almost a month since she had returned home, forgiving him for the unforgivable words that he had uttered but the complaint made against him for neglecting his work had landed him in a tough spot. 

Apurva had been more understanding than he could have ever thought. She had been incredibly patient with him even though he hadn’t been able to give her much time for the past month. 

She would stay up, waiting for him when he had to work till late at night at the institute on the new project that had been put on his shoulders for having neglected the work. He had quietly accepted it despite knowing that he had never been negligent when it came to his work.

The dean hadn’t misunderstood him either. He had held a personal conversation with Shashank after everyone left and assured him of the same. The new project anyway had to be handled by Shashank but the dean had explained it to him that he was making it seem as if it was because he had been leaving the institute early lately.

Shashank had agreed that even when he had never left without finishing his work, the other employees could take advantage of the same and start leaving early, presenting him as the example.

He had been taken aback by the overwhelming support that his wife offered though. She would heat the food and quietly have it with him no matter how long it took him to return home. 

Everything was still bearable because they would at least get to see each other every day but the week-long conference that had been announced out of the blue had shocked him. He couldn’t even admit to Apurva that he didn’t want to go because she had already been on the verge of tears ever since she had gotten that news. 

The week had felt no less than a long year to him. His heart had been more miserable for her who would silently cry to him every night when he would call her.  

The relief was indescribable when the wait finally ended and he was back to his wife who had gone back to being his Radki Bahuli upon seeing him after seven long days. 

When he had gotten back home at 3 a.m, his eyes had taken not even a minute to moisten upon stepping into the room and catching her sleeping with his T-shirt.

He had a hard time, suppressing the urge to tightly embrace her. He had to fight a battle with himself to quietly freshen up and slip into the bed without making any sound. 

He had no idea when he had fallen asleep while staring at her sleeping form. He was woken up early in the morning by his sobbing wife, clinging to him.  

He had to hold her to himself for several long minutes to comfort her.

“Shh, why are you crying? Oh wait… you’re not happy that I am here? Should I go back?” He tried to tease her to cheer her up by getting her to fight with him but ended up feeling guilty when his words intensified her cries. 

“Okay okay. Sorry… I am sorry, Apurva. Maskari kartoy,” he whispered, stroking her hair as he tried to pull himself up but she didn’t let him get away. 

“Bara… bara… kuthech nahi jaat aahe mi. Thik aahe?” He assured, wrapping his hands around her back again while she sobbed against his chest. “Shaant-shaant ho. Aata aaloy na mi? Mag ka radteyes?” 

No matter what he said, her sobs were the only response that he got. 

“Mala watla… tu aa-ta kadhi-kadhich parat… na-nahi yenar… mazya-kade,” she confessed in between her sobs, raising her head from his chest as she got down the bed and rushed to the balcony. 

He stared at his empty arms that were holding her till a few seconds ago before he pushed his feet to the floor and walked up to her. 

Snaking his hands around her waist, he placed his chin on her shoulder. “Asa kasa watla tula? Ithe nahi tar kuthe janar hoto mi? Tula sodun… kuthe janar hoto mi? Maza pinjra nahi gharta aahes tu, Apurva. Mazya ghartyat nahi paratnar tar kuthe janar mi, hmm?”

“Mahit nahi…” she muttered, bending her head. The tears that rolled down her cheeks fell on his hands that were still circling her waist. 

Turning her to himself, he lifted her in his arms and carried her back to the bed. He wiped her tears before he bent and slid his index finger underneath her chin, making her look at him. “Tuza ajunahi vishwas nahi aahe ka mazyavar, Apurva, hmm? Kal phone var pan… tu jara upset ch watli mala. Far bolali hi nahi mazyashi. Kahi zalay ka, Apurva?” 

Though she stubbornly shook her head, the fresh stream of tears that escaped her eyes gave him his answer. 

“Tu sangshil nahi tar mala kalnar kasa, Apurva? Bara… tuzya navryala nako sangu. Tuzya boyfriend la tar sangshil?” He sat beside her and held her hand. Holding her forefinger, he pressed it on his nose. “Ting. Husband mode switched off. Boyfriend mode switched on!”

She smiled through her tears as he brought back the beautiful memories that they had made before he left for the conference. 

The memories of him being her boyfriend and her, his girlfriend.  

Her small smile that he got to see after a long week almost magically took away all the exhaustion of the conference. “Aata sang. Koni kahi bol-lay ka?” he asked, still holding her hand to himself.  

Her head stayed hung and her eyes… fixed on the paper that was on the floor – torn into pieces.

His hand rose to touch her arm, growing concerned at the deafening silence that she was putting him through. “Mi waat baghtoy, Apurva. Please… sang mala… kashacha itka traas karun gheteys tu swatala?”

Her gaze lifted to his hand on her arm before she traveled it back to the floor. “Khadoos… te kagdache tukde baghtoys?”

His eyes followed hers and landed on the pieces of paper that she was staring at. Had they been there all along? He clearly didn’t remember. The joy of seeing his wife after a week had blinded him to everything else that was around. 

He hummed anyway. 

“To kagad aadhi purna hota. Pan tyachya rastyat kaichi aali aani bagh… aata tyachi awastha,” she said, continuing her unblinking stare at the paper pieces. 

He looked at the paper pieces first and then at her, getting stuck in a loop. “Mala ajibatach kahi kalat nahi aahe. Tula nemka mhanaycha kay aahe?”

“To kagad mhanje tu aani ti kaichi mhanje,” she paused for a long moment to swallow the lump that formed in her throat, “mi…”

“APURVA!” he almost yelled the moment her words found her voice. Visibly enraged, he grabbed her arm, making her look at him. “Tu kay bolteyes tula kaltay? Aaj bollis. Dare not bring that over your lips again. I won’t tolerate it, Apurva. I… won’t. ” 

She pushed his hand off her skin, wiping her tear-stricken eyes with the back of her palms. “I am speaking the truth, Khadoos!”

He sucked in a sharp breath, rising to his feet as her stubbornness to stick to her words filled him with sheer frustration.  

Clasping his hands behind his head, he paced back and forth, counting from one to ten to get a grip on his raging emotions. Yelling at her when he could already see that her insecurities seemed to have been triggered was the last thing he was going to allow himself to do.  

But what must have happened? She had been so ecstatic ever since she had returned home after their dating phase. Much to his surprise, she hadn’t fought with him even once despite how busy he had been with his institute work. Even when he had told her about the conference… though upset, she had let him go. 

He had grown fond of her phone calls that he received every night when he was in Delhi for the conference and her constant words to him every day had been – I miss you, Khadoos. When are you coming back? 

Till yesterday.

He was quick to sense that something was off when she was unbearably quiet the previous day when she had called him. 

She hadn’t even asked him her usual question – when was he returning? 

But when she had kept shrugging it off, assuring him that nothing was wrong, he had decided to keep it a surprise that he was already at the airport to return to Nashik when she had called him. 

But now that he was listening to her, he could see that the matter seemed more serious than he had imagined.  

He turned to her and caught her furiously wiping the tears that were refusing to stop flowing. 

“Accha… mi kagad aahe?” 

She nodded. 

“Aani tu kaichi?”

She nodded. 

“So tell me if I am getting this right. You are basically trying to say that your existence in my life is going to shred me into pieces, hmm?”

“That’s precisely what I am saying!” She confirmed, wrapping her hands around herself.  

“I see,” he muttered before taking a step toward her. “Mhanje tula aapla nata sampvaycha aahe.” 

“Ho!” 

He clenched a fist, watching her utter stupid words. “Accha… mhanje tula tuzya babankade parat jayacha aahe. Divorce pahije tula. Mazya pasun dur jaychay tula. Ho na, Apurva?” 

Silence dominated their conversation till she mustered the courage to vigorously move her head in a nod. “H-o.” Her voice cracked but she still kept her act of pretense strong.

He shut his eyes for a brief moment. Did his woman really think that he was going to buy that? 

His heart ached to realize that he had miserably failed to grow the flower of assurance in the garden of their relationship. He did plant it but failed to look after it. 

And now… it was almost on the verge of dying. 

One stride was all it took him to end the physical distance between them and he stood in front of her. “Mala sodun jaychay? Ho, Apurva?” 

She looked away almost instantly, hating that he was repeating the words that her heart was inconsolably weeping because of but she knew she had to stick to her words. It was the choice she was willing to make regardless of what repercussions it was going to bring along. 

She was willing to choose a lifetime of suffering for herself to gift him a lifetime of smiles. 

She was willing to leave the hand of her own happiness to make sure that his hand wouldn’t slip out of his happiness. 

She was willing to go away from him for him. 

He slipped his palm underneath her chin. “Ikade baghun bol. Mazyakade baghun bol. Mala sodun jaychay?” 

“Kiti vela vicharnar aahes?”

“Titkya vela jitkya vela tu khota bolshil! Tu khota bolna band kar. Mi vicharna band karto!”

She took his hand off her chin. “Mi khota bolatach nahi aahe, Khadoos. Mala tula sodun jaycha aahe!” 

“Ho? Mag dolyat paani ka aahe?” His tone had softened by then. Knowing someone or something had pushed her to the point where she was so distraught left him infuriated. 

Whosoever was the reason behind the tears in his wife’s eyes was going to pay for it. 

“Asach…” she said, wiping her tears. 

“I guess, I will have to change the question,” he muttered while his hand pressed on her cheek as he wiped yet another traitor tear that betrayed her. “Mazyashivay rahu shakshil?” 

Just when she had forced herself to get a grip on her emotions, his new question had her eyes brim. She looked at him for a fraction of a second before closing her eyes. “Shikayla lagel, Khadoos. Tuzyashivay rahayla shikayala lagel!”

“Pan ka?” Cupping her cheek, he tried getting her to open her eyes but all in vain but the tears escaping her eyelids told him everything that he needed to know. “Mi kahi kelay ka, Apurva? Mi tula ithe ektila sodun gelo tyamule upset aahes ka? Tuch mhanali hotis na ki mi tuza best boyfriend aahe? Mag?”

“Tu maza best boyfriend zalaas, Khadoos pan mi… tuzi best wife nahi hou shakle…”

He couldn’t decide if it was her tears or her words that were ripping apart his heart. Who even got that in her mind? Knowing he had left her quite secure in their relationship, he couldn’t even imagine that anything of that sort was going on in her mind.  

He sighed when she pushed his hand off her cheek. “Aani he decide karnari tu kon?”

Confusion danced in her orbs as she looked at him.

“Bayko tu mazi aahes na? Mag tu best wife aahe ki nahi he tuza navra mhanje mich sangu shakto…. nahi? Tu swatach kasa bara tharavun mokali zalis?” He leaned against the cupboard, leaving her alone to ponder over his words. 

“Mi kahi tharvun vagere mokali nahi zali aahe,” she defended, pressing her palms on the bed, “bas je mahit padla aahe tyavrun… hech conclusion nighte, Khadoos!” Her tone was unusually faint, giving away the cracks in her heart. 

“Mhanje?” he asked, leaving the support of the cupboard and walking back to her. “Kay mahit padla aahe?”

She turned her face away from his questioning gaze. “Tech je tu mazyapasun lapavlas?” 

He almost rolled his eyes at the quick transition from the weeping cat to the aggressive lioness. “Mi tuzyapasun kahihi lapavlela nahiye, Apurva.”

“Bol. Ajun khota bol, Khadoos! Motha kay te Satyawadi vagere mhanat asto swatala aani aata paha!” she muttered to herself but she wasn’t as inaudible as she thought she was being.

“Excuse me? Mi Satyawadi aahe! I mean… I really haven’t hidden anything from you, Apurva,” he urged, trying to recall in the back of his mind if at all he had lied to her about something but nothing really came to his mind. 

“Tuzya institute madhe tuzya colleagues ni tuzya against complaint keli which is why you have this suddenly increased workload because apparently, your dean asked you to compensate? Tu he sangitlas mala?”

His face was plastered with shock the moment her words hit his ears. For a long moment, he couldn’t believe she actually said what she did. His gaze fell to the floor for a microsecond before he stepped closer and touched her arm. “Who told you about it?”

“Does it matter?”

“IT DOES!” He regretted increasing his pitch when he caught her startled by his loud voice. “Sorry, sorry…” He shut his eyes, apologizing for unintentionally scaring her. His palm gently caressed her arm. “Please sang… koni sangitla tula? Netra?”

She chose silence which gave him his answer. 

I won’t spare you for this, Netra. You’ll have to pay for this. You’ll… have to pay for this. The sudden rush of rage inside him was beyond him but one glance at his distraught wife was enough for him to calm himself so that he could calm her insecure heart. 

“Two things – 1. Not my colleagues but my colleague complained. The collegue named Netra. She must have conveniently skipped mentioning that, right?”

She stilled at the piece of information fed to her mind. “Ho…. ti nahi bolli ki tine complaint keli…” she confirmed, murmuring to herself. 

For a change, at that moment, he really contemplated if he should resign and cut the last thread that was connecting him and Netra and eliminate the existence of every opportunity that Netra could use to separate him and his wife.                          

“2. You are not just the best wife I could ever have but also the only wife I have ever desired and…” he leaned forward, pressing his lips firmly on her forehead, “would ever accept. You, Apurva. Nobody else but you so really… stop letting other people manipulate you, will you?”

He pulled away only to linger his lips on her cheeks, kissing away every single tear she had to shed because of his colleague who he had come to despise by then. 

<>

“Pan, Khadoos… tu mala bhetnyasathich kamakade durlaksh kelas na? I really do feel guilty,” she confessed while he sat holding her in his arms on the bed. 

“Pan mi kamakade durlaksh kelach nahiye, Apurva aani tyamule tula guilty feel karaychi kahich garaj nahiye,” he said, stroking her hair. “Tu mazi bayko aahes. Tuza mazya pratyek goshti var hakka aahe. Mazya velevar. Mazya premva-” He paused to see her lifting her head from his chest, visibly surprised at his words. “Mazyavar… tuza mazyavar hakka aahe, Apurva. Aani…. Tula vel nahi denar tar konala denar mi? I was a workaholic before we got married and I still am. The only difference is that now… I can’t be 24*7 available to my colleagues. Neither is it right nor is it my responsibility.”

“I don’t want to be an obstacle in the road to your dreams, Khadoos!”

He would be lying if he said that he wasn’t surprised by the serious side of his wife that he didn’t get to see often. 

He held her closer, keeping his chin on her head. “Blessings cannot be obstacles, Apurva and you…. are the blessing that I don’t even know if I deserve.” 

“Kharach?” 

He chuckled as the sweet childish shade of his wife took over. “Kharach!” 

Content Warning – 16+

She clutched his T-shirt in her fist, shutting her eyes when he slid his hand under her Saree and his fingers began to draw invisible patterns on her bare stomach. Despite her closed eyes, she could see what he was writing on her skin. The confession. His unsaid confession.

She gasped when his fingers pressed near her navel, making her drop her head on his shoulder. “Khadoos, thamb … please!” 

His lips curled up in a smile, gazing at his shy doll hiding herself in his being at the moments of intimacy they were exploring after the week-long separation that his conference had brought to their life. 

He simply smiled at her urge, circling his hand around her back, sending a shiver down her spine as his fingers resumed drawing the pattern that she had interrupted. 

The sensations his touch was evoking in the pit of her stomach left her dizzy until he made her lift her head from his chest. 

Her eyes stayed shut when he leaned forward and traced the skin of her cheek with his nose before moving his lips to her neck, below her earlobe. 

The moment the skin of her neck met his lips was the moment she could not contain what he was filling her with. She clutched his shoulder, losing herself in his sweet torture. “Khadoos, thamb… please!”

“Ka?” He bit back his smile. “Hach topic hota na tumchya Kukki Gang chya discussion cha aaj? Ki Shashank kiti unromantic aahe, hmm?” 

Her eyes snapped open. So he was eavesdropping on their conversation? Ugh! 

“Kasa aahe na, Mrs. Shashank Kanitkar… tumcha navra kiti romantic aahe yachi ajun kalpana hi nahiye tumhala,” he murmured, pulling away. His palms held her face in them while he leaned in for he didn’t have to verbalize what.

She stared at his lips inches away from hers, utterly dazed. Her eyes closed on their own accord. 

Their lips brushed against each other before he leaned to whisper in her ear, “So the next time you call your husband unromantic, Mrs. Kanitkar…. know the consequences!” 

Do share your reading experience in the comment section. While I am not usually keen on exploring physical intimacy in my stories, especially fanfics, I think it’s fun at times.

Looking forward to hearing from you. 🙂