Destination

"Why is it so difficult to forgive people?" She had wondered aloud to no one in particular. The banks of the Gangaur Ghat were fairly empty at dawn and there was a sudden chill in the air, as she covered her ears with her hair. Her deep black eyes were fixed on the ripples reflecting the first light of dawn. An elderly man was sitting on the bench feeding the pigeons that flapped their wings in glee. Two kids were sitting on a torn rug playing with a street dog. With her feet dipped till her ankles in the water she shuddered a little in the breeze and pulled her shawl closer to her body. Her sandals and a bag she had bought yesterday were lying beside her. The way she kept, it made two things evident. One, there was nothing valuable in it. Two, she was comfortable in her surrounding.

"How do we let go of people?" She sighed at the water. To an onlooker, she could very well look like a lost tourist.

"Who said you need to let go?" She frowned at the voice behind her. Ear dropping on her thoughts like that, bad manners.

He seemed a little older than her and definitely not a tourist. He sat beside her and removed his shoes rather slowly and carefully. Then his socks. Then following her, or so it seemed, he had put his feet in the water as well.

"This does feel good." He had smiled. She ignored the need for a conversation. Some moments, she had realized, were to be felt in silence as long as they exist. Silence, unlike words, never hurt. There was a certain mystery and uncertainty in silence. Or perhaps hope. He had stared at the water creating ripples in a distance. And then at her. A smile lingered on his lips that travelled to his deep brown eyes. It's been a while since he'd seen that face. Ajabdeh Punwar was not a person you meet often in life. And when you do, you remember her forever.

“Often, the closest people, who have no idea what they are, eventually hurt us the most." He spoke trying to catch the expression on her face. She smiled slightly. Her eyes however were fixed at her feet.

“People." She said almost like a murmur "Don't hurt us. Expectations from them do."

"So, it's our fault entirely?" He raised his eyebrows.

"Love, in any form is never a fault." She now stared right at him. It had been long. But like they say, the only feature that never changes in a person is his eyes.

To an onlooker, they must be looking like a couple in love... He thought as his eyes moved away from hers. Slowly, then all at once. She was still staring at him.

"So?" He had said after a careful pause.

"So?" She had frowned.

“What, or May I ask who caused you heartbreak?"

"Umm...It's not always about a typical love relationship." She chose not to answer.

"I never said that. Heartbreaks can be caused by anyone. “He shook his head a little. His face however changed expressions.

"What's wrong with you?" She frowned.

"Heartbreak." He had almost chuckled. "The typical one."

"What happened?" She asked concerned. Genuinely.

"You first." He had urged.

"My... Jija..." She had finally spoken after a few minutes. By now the ghat was a little more crowded and the sun was already up in the sky.

"Yes?" He stared at her. The last time he had seen the lady was at her father’s funeral, with the man her parents never approved of.

"She... Had been my only family..." She gulped. She hadn't talked of this since that day. She hadn't even had a conversation in the past three days with anyone.  He waited. She didn't even know if this was a good idea. To tell him.

“Let me speak." He paused. "She would often say we'd sort it out. Convince everyone" he smiled at the water as she stopped.

"What happened then?" She stared at him.

"It's her wedding today." She had expected something in his voice. But it was monotonous.

“I am here because..." She gulped. “I heard Jija argue with ... Her... husband." She carefully didn't call him Bhaiya. Not anymore.

He had waited for her to ease out. "I heard he wanted me out of his house as expenses were high and they were planning a family...she was trying so hard to... I ... Left them a letter and ..."

"Why are you here?" She knew it was an obvious question. Why was she here when she should be looking for at least a shelter? She couldn't possibly be on a holiday forever. Why was she here of all the places in the country she could go to. Why was she here that too with the little resources she had left, on a holiday mode like there was no tomorrow.

“I... Don't know." She shrugged.

It was a lie. How could she admit it took her three days time to decide to reach out to the guy who knew her more than anyone else for half of her entire life? It would sound very odd to even admit that she had no friends. She hadn't made any since she was five. He had been her only playmate before and after his parents had shifted base. She hadn't seen or heard from him in the last ten years. After her parent's death, her sister married the man of her choice and she left home with her. Why was it so hard to admit she missed her childhood and friendship? The laughter. Their innocence. Him. And after fifteen years of knowing her and ten years of absolutely no contact he had received a friend request followed by a message.

“Can we talk?" Had made him call her up.

She didn't know why she stared at his name for a good twenty seconds before receiving it and sounding normal. It was hard to admit that as soon as she left the house all she remembered was his face.

"Let's go." He had got up and tied his shoelaces. Putting the socks in his pocket he picked up her bag.

"Where to?" She frowned.

"You can't stay in hotels all your life." He shrugged.

"But... I..." She was clearly thinking of a place she could name.

"You. Are going home." He spoke in a determined voice. "Let's take your luggage from the hotel and I will get an auto."

"At least inform Aunty..." She had felt uneasy. Aunty loved her like a mother. But things change. People change. Situation changes. She has seen it all.

“Mom and Dad have moved back to Bijolia. I will call them up." This was news to her. "I stay alone." She felt a little awkward at his declaration but he couldn't care less.

“We sold that house “her voice trailed. Her home. The only place she called home. They needed money for the marriage and she had given Jija her share of it as well. She now wondered why they didn't invite anyone to the wedding.

The nameplate read Pratap Singh Sisodia, as they moved into the fairly decorated apartment a little towards the outskirts of the city.

"It's a small place." He declared turning the keys. His back to her. “I rented this one when they moved back home. We didn't need a large apartment anymore here. "

"Why didn't you go back?" She had raised her eyebrows. He swung open the door and turned to face her at the threshold. "Wait here."

She had smiled a little as he had lit a lamp and put it on a plate and did her welcome. It was always how their mothers welcomed guests.

She stepped inside to see the sofa, a bean bag, and a television set. A little Ganapati was placed in a corner and the doors led to the kitchen, a bathroom and a bedroom.

"It's very small I know." He had scratched his head. "Once you start working and can pay your rent, you can move out." He had assured.

She smiled. He had at least shown that much faith that she will manage well on her own. She needed that reassurance. She looked around the apartment as he placed her luggage in the room. Homes were made of love. Not the area of a house. She valued those words from her mother more than anything else now. He had handed her a glass of water.

"If you want, you can help me in my business. We work on the handloom." He had offered. She stared at him and said in a soft yet regretful tone "don't do so much for me, I probably will not be able to give anything back."

"And friendship is never about doing things to get back in return.” He had walked into the kitchen. "What should I make for lunch?" He asked like he was a chef.

She smiled.  "Let me help.”

Pratap had missed his mom's recipes. He knew it the moment he had tasted the aloo chakli she made. It tasted like home. It tasted like it should. He had licked the bowl clean. She had smiled watching that. They had discussed work as he promised her some accounts to work from the next day itself. He had told her to rest before he left for work. She had apologised in silence for keeping him away from work. He didn't seem to care. Some people were beyond all that. Ajabdeh was one.

Pratap sat going through some files. He stared at the clock. 6p.m. There was something missing in her eyes today. That spark. That hope. It made him restless. He figured the best way was to keep her occupied. He had also decided against calling his parents. Although they were very open-minded and helpful people, bringing the girl into the apartment where he stayed alone, he figured, won't go down very well with them. Especially his father. He knew things. Things Pratap never admitted to anyone. Not even to himself. Things he had let go of and forgotten with his new relationship. Or so he thought. Things that ached his heart the moment he saw her today. He suddenly felt thirsty. And gulped down a glass of water.

Ajabdeh looked around the apartment at the pictures that hung on the wall. His parents. His dog. The old house. Her eyes stopped at the one beside his table. It was a picture of him and a girl. She picked it up curious. She was pretty. Ajabdeh’s hands trailed where she held his hand. She kept it down as his words came back to her mind. It was her wedding. Maybe he didn't want to be alone. She figured. She calculated that she would need at least six months to settle in the job he was offering before getting herself a place to rent. Six months would go in a jiffy. She couldn't sleep. She decided to clean up a little and cook dinner as well. That would keep her occupied and help him. Getting the books down one by one from the shelf and also placing them the same way back in, she dusted the racks. Until her eyes fell on a bookmark that fell from a book. It was an old photograph. His eighteenth birthday. The one where fifteen-year-old Ajabdeh had seen him one last time. He was leaving in a week. The day after, her father passed away. Things changed. She stared at the picture. It was her in a floral dress. And him in a shirt and bow. They had smiles. She sighed. She remembered the speech she had practised for the day. She remembered how important it was supposed to be. Life changing. The day did change her life. Her father was rushed to the hospital in between the party.

Things were left unsaid. For the better. She figured. She wasn't meant for some things. Today, the picture in his bedroom was proof of that. Couldn't she also have a normal teenage life? She often wondered how strange it was. We often ruin our present thinking of the past and the future. She placed the book back on the shelf.

Pratap was not used to ringing the bell in his apartment. It did feel odd. What felt odder was the smile with which she opened the door! The aroma of a delicious meal had filled the house. He noticed the room was cleaner and fresh flowers were placed at the feet of the Ganapati. It felt like... Home. He didn't mind as long as she was occupied.

"Am sorry. I took the liberty to cook dinner and ... Clean." She apologized watching him stare around.

"That's perfectly fine. Don't apologize. You are actually helping me here. But once you start working tomorrow we will divide the work." He had smiled placing his files down.

"Deal." She smiled.

“I am hungry.” He’d loosened the tie.

She smiled like she was waiting for it and ran to serve dinner.

Three months two days later.

It was Sunday and Ajabdeh was cleaning up the mess Pratap had left experimenting with breakfast in the kitchen. She smiled her way through it, humming a tune. He was busy watching a match in his room. Or what was now hers. He had tried to persuade her to call Jija once in these months, which she did just to tell her not to worry anymore. She had asked him a million times how aunty and uncle reacted and he said it didn't matter. Something told her he didn't tell them but right now as selfish as it sounded she could not afford to lose a shelter until she managed her own. Truth is, she desperately wanted to move out. Being with Pratap, staying at his place, making him meals and going out on Sundays made her feel a certain feeling she dreaded. She was scared. He was the last anchor that held her ship now. Her stupidity could lose a friend. 

She had secretly started looking up places. She figured when one was finalized she would inform him. And also thank him. The doorbell rang.

The lady who stood in front of her today was the same face she saw in the picture in his bedroom. Well, the bedroom was now hers and the sofa his. And he had dumped that picture in the dustbin that very night she had walked into his life again but she could never forget that face. It was also clear that the lady was a bit shocked to see a girl there.

"Isn't this Pratap Singh's apartment?" She confirmed uneasy.

"Yes." Ajabdeh nodded. She didn't know why she felt her whole existence was at stake.

"Umm... Can I talk to him?" The lady sounded unsure.

"Please come in." She managed a smile.

Pratap scrutinized the lady on the sofa while he sat on the bean bag.

"I..." Ajabdeh interrupted "am going to the market. Call me when..." She stopped as he stared right at her.

"Who is she?" The question came from the sofa as Ajabdeh opened her mouth.

"None of your business" he spoke instead. "Why are you here?"

Ajabdeh was about to leave when she heard the lady say “I am sorry Pratap. I didn't speak up then. And I regret it now. I am going through a divorce and the first person ..."

Ajabdeh had slammed the main door a little louder than usual behind her. Her heart made a funny thud with it and she walked out of the apartments.

It was almost 2pm. Pratap frowned as he punched his fist. Not only was Ajabdeh not home, she had also left her phone at home itself. Where was she? It’s been hours.

The bell rang as he rushed to open the door. Relief swept across his face as he found her standing in front of him. She carefully walked past him, with her bag full of veggies and placed it down on the kitchen counter. He followed her clearly displeased.

"Where were you?" Was met with silence. "I was worried.”

"I forgot my phone. " She said matter of factly. "Otherwise I would have called. Have you had lunch?"

"God damn it Ajab.” He sounded angry. “You left at 11. It's 2. I was worried sick. And you are asking about lunch?" This made her look up at his eyes which flashed a hint of disappointment. Hers were cold. She smiled faintly as if to herself and said "you had the time to think of me? Am honoured. "

Pratap was a little taken aback by this unusual behaviour. Not only was she irresponsible but also cold. This withdrawal was unexpected in the usually warm Ajabdeh.

“I was looking for jobs and I finally found one that suits my profile.” She started washing the dishes in the sink. Her eyes hovered at the two cups kept in the sink. He had made the ‘guest’ some tea.

“So, you will be staying here still, right?” Pratap asked Ajabdeh who looked uneasy.

“No.” Her answer was met with a frown from Pratap “I was looking for places and I found a PG in the old city. I will be moving there next week.”

“When did this happen?” Pratap’s voice had certain urgency “When were you planning to tell me?”

“Today. I went to talk...” Ajabdeh looked away and rubbed her hands.

“Why?” His question made her stare at him a little wide-eyed.

“What do you mean...why” she paused and looked away as his parents exchanged glances “I can’t stay here.”

“Why can’t you?” He was clearly confused.

 “You didn’t inform Uncle Aunty about me did you?” It was more of an accusation in her tone.

“So?” He shrugged “Did you tell me you were moving out? Looking for Jobs?”

“Wasn’t I supposed to?” She frowned at him picking up cleaned cups “Always?”

“Why today?” He followed her to the kitchen sink.

“What do you mean?” She stopped her hand at the dishes.

“You know exactly what I mean.” Eyes met briefly. His in rage, hers hurt. She walked away.

He in his impulse had held her back by her wrist. She didn’t turn. Her voice shook as she said “Let me go.”

“Why do you want to leave?” He said firmly “Answer me and I will let you go”

“Why do you want to make me stay?” Her voice trembled.

“Because...” He was silent. Slowly he let go of her hand. She walked away and closed the bedroom door with a thud.

A week Passed by...

He was jogging for about two hours now. It’s been two days since she left. His house was a mess already. An ample amount of paperwork stalled at her now empty office desk. He stopped as he realized he was in the same lane as her PG. He turned away. Why do you want to make me stay? Her words still haunted him. Did he not know the answer or was too scared of it? He gulped down the heaviness with a bottle of water.

Ajabdeh had found the right spot near the Moti Magri statue to watch the sunset. There was something about sunsets that looked more appealing to her than sunrises. Perhaps the darkness that comes with it. And new beginnings. She sighed as she dialled “Jija”

“Hello.” There she was on the other side “Hello?”

“Umm... How are you?” She sounded indifferent.

“Ajab? “ There was a hint of happiness and relief “How are you?”

“I ... Got myself a new job Jija. Am... Happy.” She controlled her trembling voice. “I always wanted to be free and independent, I... did it.”

“Where are you?” For a moment there was a hint of concern “Is everything okay?”

“Yes, Jija. I...”

“Great. I have some news Ajab. You will be a Mausi soon... “Something didn’t make Ajabdeh feel like she should have felt “Hello? Ajab?”

“Jija there is some signal problem here.” She lied “I will call you back.” She switched off her phone.

“Do you know the city has about 7 sunset points?” She didn’t move from her place or turn.

“No. I don’t know.” She seemed distant staring at the red disk on the horizon.

“Ask me.” He sat down beside her staring where she was staring. Into the emptiness. “I have been to four before this one looking for someone.” His words made her frown. “Your roommate said you went to watch the sunset”

“You could wait at the PG,” She said matter of factly.

“I could. But I had waited a decade already.” Her heart made a loud thud but it didn’t show on her face. A moment of silence seemed like an hour. He smiled. “I guess you did too.”

“Jija is expecting.” Ajabdeh couldn’t understand why she said that. Was it just to break the silence or change the topic?

“Come back.” He blurted like it hurt him.

“What?” She had made the mistake of staring into his eyes. His deep brown eyes. Captivating and mysterious always. There was a hint of a tear in them.

“Come back.” He repeated slowly his eyes not leaving her doe-shaped black ones. "I will call home and say we ... live together. Isn't that what you want?" He stopped and almost begged "Please come back Ajab"

“Why?” It was almost like a whisper.

“Because.” This time he didn’t pause. He gently placed his hand on hers and said “ Homes are made of Love. My house needs to be home again and no one except you can do that.” He prayed he had said enough. He didn’t have anything more to say. Or maybe he did. Her teary eyes broke into a smile.

“You needed two days to come up with this?” She smiled.

“I needed a decade to come up with this. I am slow. I know. Please come back.” His hand tightened on hers. Entwining her fingers in his, Ajabdeh knew, that home was more of a person than an address. She had got her back after a decade. Sunsets were always her favourite. Placing her head on his shoulder Ajabdeh smiled a silent smile as he planted a soft kiss on her forehead.