It had been over six months since the wedding and Ajabdeh had not heard from Pratap. The contact details were opened ample times she was drunk at a pub or out with her friends or even bored alone at night, never to be dialled or messaged to. She wondered if he felt the same or if it was only her. By the third week, she was convinced they were never hearing from each other again. “Snap out of it Ajabdeh.” She reminded herself time and again when she realised she kept checking his social profiles since they followed each other. They were just two strangers with a shared secret. Nothing more. Nothing less. The more she checked his social media the more clear his happy high lifestyle was to her. The fan whirling noisily over her head seemed to taunt her about her status. Ajabdeh inhaled checking her own mundane Instagram profile. A few sunrise pictures, a few of her father’s handmade garden, and some street photos. She looked up the gallery as she lay in bed with her phone at 3 AM. She found a picture of herself with one of the bridesmaids at the wedding. It was a candid of her smiling. She cropped and edited herself out of the picture. She googled “Instagram captions on self-love” and copied and pasted the second one from the third link. Then she posted it on Instagram. She checked his profile again. His last picture was of a coffee cup in a cafe. Was he alone? Was he with someone? Ajabdeh was irked by her thoughts. How did it matter? The notification startled her as his name popped up. He had liked her post. She sat up on the bed. She checked her profile again. He had not liked a single picture in her profile except the one in the saree from that night. She opened his profile and scrolled down. She carefully scrutinized the first nine posts. Liking something too far down would establish her as a stalker. Liking a photo of what could be a potential date could be intrusive. She found one with the beach of Maldives captioned as a family holiday. She liked it and kept her phone down.
When Ajabdeh woke up in the morning she was already late for work. She was unable to sleep well for the past few weeks and had no time to check with her therapist either.
“Here, eat something.” Her father handed her a bowl of Khichdi as he shook his head. “You should at least find time to eat.” He fussed as she gobbled down the morsels.
“I will at the weekend, I promise.” She hurried to get dressed. She was about to wave a quick bye when her father handed her the keys to the scooter. “Be careful.” He said. “Oh, and you forgot your phone.” She grabbed them and rushed downstairs. It was only when she had reached the elevator of her office that she checked her phone. There was a WhatsApp message that made her heart skip a beat. It was sent at 4 AM from Pratap.
“Can we talk?”
She mistakenly “Marked it as read” and grunted. Not replying after seeing the message at 11 AM would be rude.
“Sure.” She replied quickly. “But I am in the office so I'll call you after?” She kept the phone down as she stepped out of the elevator. Ajabdeh had forgotten about the incident in her workload. She had just logged out and searched her bag to turn the phone notification on from silent mode when she saw his missed calls. She frowned at the call log. What was wrong? She went back online and checked Shakti’s profile. It looked like he was on a tour of Europe with his mother. Her heart suddenly made a funny leap. She calmed her nerves as she reached her scooty and dialled his number.
“Where are you?” His voice seemed to be serious and she frowned.
“What is wrong?” She asked.
“My father died last night.” His voice made her gasp.
“Oh my god, I am so sorry.” She exclaimed.
“Ranima and Shakti are in Europe.” He spoke in the same monotone.
“Are you… there?” She asked unsurely.
“I am at home. Ranima told me not to go.” He said as a silence filled the other side. “Are you there?” he asked unsurely.
“Yes, what do you need?” She said without a second thought. He inhaled as she could hear his breath.
“Can you come over?” He asked as she skipped a beat.
“To your place?” The shock in her voice was evident.
“Make an excuse at home.” He sounded commanding. “I need to talk.” Ajabdeh checked her watch.
“Okay, let me call you back.” She hung up and dialled her father. He was always a helpful man to people in need so once Ajabdeh told him a friend was coping with the loss of a parent he asked no further questions.
“I will be back as soon as I can.” She reassured. Then she dialled Pratap again.
“Send me the address.”
What Ajabdeh did not expect in her delusion was that the place Pratap called home was no less than a mansion. The staff seemed to be better dressed than she was and they looked a little startled when she said she was here for him. The housekeeper eyed her asking twice if she had some “official urgency” before Pratap intervened commanding her to leave them alone. One glance at him and Ajabdeh could say he was not doing well. He looked sleep-deprived, weary and his hair was messy. He was suddenly aware of her glances.
Pratap had no idea that as soon as he heard the news it would affect him so much. He expected it not to. What stirred him more was his mother’s indifference and brother’s lack of emotion. He felt almost guilty of being sad. They were on a trip that Jaivanta had no plans of shortening. She forbade him to make an appearance at the funerals or the memorial services.
“The press will be there, you don’t need this attention.” She reminded him. A part of him suddenly felt the stone-cold walls of the house were creeping in on him. He wanted a hug, a reassurance perhaps that what he felt was valid. As he paced sleeplessly indulging in social media for a temporary diversion of the mind he saw her post a few seconds ago. The sight of her in the saree strangely brought back memories of the warm embrace. He had not been hugged for a long time before that and since it. He had a strange urge to find solace and comfort in Ajabdeh. So the moment she liked his post he contemplated on reaching out to her. It was at that moment that he realised he had no real friends. Most of them who heard the news sent him formal condolences. Most of them expected him to be unaffected. He had regretted sending her the message in the morning when no texts came from her. But instead of deleting the message for everyone he mistakenly deleted it for himself.
“Fuck!” He had grunted in frustration. She was not going to reply. Except that she did and it made him call her multiple times only to realise she had her life and priorities that did not involve helping him out randomly. But the moment she asked him what was wrong just by the sound of his voice Pratap did not regret reaching out to Ajabdeh. Now that she was here he had no idea what to tell her.
“Are you alright?” Her words made him look at her with empty eyes. He sighed.
“I guess so.” He eyed the confused staff and led her to the study room.
“Why are you not going?” Ajabdeh asked with a frown.
“Because Ranima doesn’t want me to go.” He sounded monotonous as he looked away.
“And what do you feel?” Ajabdeh walked up to him staring at him intendedly. Pratap inhaled. Without a second of hesitation, he hugged her, putting his head on her shoulder, feeling the warmth of her body soothe her as he said in a trembling voice,
“I don’t know.” Ajabdeh inhaled as she patted his back gently and whispered.
“You know it is okay to feel sad.” She reassured him. “He was your father, don’t feel guilty for being sad.” He loosened his embrace and looked at her with teary eyes.
“Are you sure?” She nodded at him with a faint smile.
“I also think you should go there.” She said firmly. He pulled out of the embrace and turned his back to her. “Why?” He asked. Ajabdeh walked up to him and eyed him staring out of the window.
“Because you will regret it if you don’t go. And this will not come back to you.” Her words made him glance over to her. She held his hand reassuringly in between both her hands. “You can also regret if you go but you can always choose to leave if it makes you uncomfortable.” He eyed his hand tightening its grip around hers as he looked away and sighed.
“All my life I hated the man. I blamed him for everything. It is because of him I could never trust another human being. Never have a healthy relationship anywhere. And yet I feel sad. Why?” Ajabdeh placed her free hand gently on his shoulder reassuringly as she whispered. “We sometimes don’t have the answer to everything and that is fine.” She watched him wipe away his tears discreetly. “And who says you are all of that because of him? You are a good son to your mother, a good brother to your sibling, a good leader at work… those are relationships you have maintained.” She made him look at her as she spoke. “You do trust people. You trusted me today.” The moment she said it, Ajabdeh looked away as the realisation dawned on her. The air of awkwardness engulfed in the silence as the roar of thunder suddenly jolted her. She found him still observing her.
“ It is going to rain, I should go. But…” His grip tightened on her hand as she stopped.
“Stay. This house is too big to spend the night before the funeral alone.” Pratap almost pleaded. “I don’t want to be alone.” Ajabdeh looked at him confused as he seemed to read her mind. “I will tell the housekeeper to open one of the guest rooms for you.” He added quickly.
“But…” Ajabdeh was still unsure. “Will she not tell your mother?” Pratap suddenly smiled at her words faintly.
“No, she won’t and even if she does I am an adult who is allowed to have house guests in his own home.” He reassured. “Fine?”
“Fine.” Ajabdeh agreed. “When is the funeral?”
“Around nine.” He let go of her hand as he turned around to walk past her to find the housekeeper. He stopped at the threshold. “Will you go to the funeral with me?” He asked as she looked surprised.
“What about the press? And people?” She asked. He inhaled.
“As if I care.”
“What if your mother does?” She asked as he shook his head.
“I will be disappointing her anyway.” He shrugged.
Ajabdeh found the room looked antique and scary, especially with the rolling thunder and rain on the window pane. She could never sleep in that room. She stared at the closed door. Walking out into a dark empty mansion was a bad idea as well. That was usually how all good horror movies started. The knock on her door almost made her jump.
“Did I wake you?” He asked as she opened the door to find him in his pyjamas. He looked at her in the same attire she came from office in and frowned.
“I told her to give you a change of clothes.”
“She did.” Ajabdeh was quick to reply. “I was just…”
“Is it uncomfortable for you here? I know the place can be a little intimidating…” He looked apologetic.
“No, I… will get changed.” She reassured him. “She also gave me a change for the funeral.”
“Yes since you did not have clothes I took the liberty to order them along with the pajamas.” He shrugged.
“You… ordered…” Ajabdeh’s voice died on her lips as he held up the album he was holding in his hand. “Once you are changed, come downstairs if you can’t sleep. I can’t too. So I am looking at old pictures.”
Ajabdeh eyed the coffee he had just poured for her while he pointed at a black-and-white picture in one of the albums.
“Those are my grandparents from his side.”
“They really are royal.” She said almost impressed. He eyed her.
“Did you doubt that?” He asked as she shook her head.
“My grandparents ran away from home and got married.” She sounded almost amused.
“Why?” He asked.
“She was from a lower caste and his father threatened to disown him.” She placed the coffee mug down after a tiny sip. “Which he did.”
“What did your grandfather do?” He asked. Ajabdeh eyed him and continued.
“They started a business and flourished together. My dad… he couldn’t hold on to it well…”
“He was brave. Your grandfather. To leave everything for a woman he chose…” His words died on his lips as she shook her head.
“I feel that is foolish. He was not happy after that because he was not used to the lifestyle of normal people. He was privileged and craved that life again.” She took a sip and continued. “But at least he stayed with her, unlike…” She stopped because she was talking way too much and the topic of her mother should have been avoided.
“This is you?” She asked changing the topic and holding up a picture of an infant in a young Jaivanta’s lap. She gasped. “Wow, your mother looks beautiful.”
“Yes, she does.” He nodded. “My Nanisa always said I look like her.” He made Ajabdeh look up at his face.
“You do actually, you have a handsome face.” She smiled as Pratap smiled back faintly at her words and Ajabdeh was suddenly aware of the longing in his stare and the proximity of their seat on the couch. Something about sharing childhood memories, the smell of coffee and the feel of the pyjamas was deeply intimidating and intimate. She looked away.
“Thank you for being here.” His words made her look up again at him. “I was dreading to be alone.”
“It is sometimes the worst feeling in the world.” Ajabdeh agreed with a shrug. “Although most of the time it is liberating…” She stopped for he leaned in to kiss her lips gently almost like a peck. Ajabdeh closed her eyes and inhaled as his breath on her lips made her skin erupt into goosebumps. She opened her eyes to find his lips close to hers when she moved away.
“I am sorry. We shouldn’t.” He was quick to apologize as he gathered the albums. “You should rest. I will see you here around eight.” He left before she could utter a word. When she made her way up the stairs to the room she found the door of his room shut but the lights were still on. On one hand, she wanted to make sure he was alright, on the other she feared what might happen if she did. So she shut her door and called it a night.
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