Patni

Summary : Jin logon ke paas khone ke liye bohut kuch na ho, unse kuch cheen ne ka anjaam bhura hota hai. Rani Sahiba yeh Ranjhan se seekhengi.
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There is a lot of freedom in becoming Akif. It has always been an escape but right now, it feels like a disguise, an armour of sorts.

Veer inhales deeply, allowing Yogesh to drone on about their next scope as he went through his notes.

This interview, which is about to take place, would be the blow on Rani Ma's card castle.

He knows the weakest card is Chandra Singh Rathod; that haughty uncle of his who was always in Rani Ma's camp. The fall will begin with him. He checks through the file, making a note here and there for easy reference later.

"Akif Bhai," Yogesh says after a moment, in his usual coy manner, scratching behind his ear and looking slightly silly. "Yeh Doctor nahi bone wala."

"Koi nahi bolta Yogi," he doesn't even raise his head as he answers. "Logo se bulwana padta hai."

"Haan. Unhe bhar peit khila do, baat apne aap bahar nikhal aati hai," Amrit comes in to Veer's chagrin, pushing a heavily laden trolley of breakfast.

The air is suddenly thick with her scent, her hair carelessly gathered over her shoulder is still wet from her shower. Her head is only nominally covered with her pallu, and she beams at Yogesh completely ignoring Veer.

Gone are the hurt in her eyes and the pain and bitterness on her face.

Veer could barely drag his eyes back to his papers, instead they kept returning to her, trailing over her.

She had drawn her eyes with kohl, giving depth to those wine coloured pools. She had worn jasmin in her hair, loose strands of strawn flowers were woven into those partially wet locks.

And as if to spite him, she had worn a mint green sari. It was definitely not hers, Veer knows because he was the one to arrange her wardrobe when she was supposed to marry him the first time around.

There were definitely no greens in there. But this particular colour, paired with the jade toned blouse, and pearls at her throat and ears and - oh - her waist - made her look fresh. Her skin looked creamy and warm against the cool tones of mint - especially that waist - with the pearls highlighting the slopes and the curves he so loved to slide his hand over -

Veer shakes his head and with effort stumps on that thought. But his eyes refuse to adhere his resolve and return to her face. Amrit, being the fox that she is, arches a brow.

"Humein khana nahi chahiye," he tells her rather coolly, wanting more than anything to either shut her out of the library or shut Yogesh out of the library and -
He stumps on that thought too.

"Yeh aap ke liye nahi hai," Amrit smiles rather sweetly. "This is for Yogesh Bhaiyya. Aap khayenge na? Meri haat ka khana?"

Veer blinks, taking that in. Amrit has made all that?

"Ranjhan Babhi!" Yogesh is already shooting hearts from his eyes at the food and Veer is annoyed to find, approaching his wife like a puppy.

"You made all these for me? Hayee - I must have saved a country in my last birth!"

Veer mutters a few choice words going back to his papers. Amrit ignores him, arranging the plates for Yogesh on a table well in his sight but far away. "Aap teek se kha lijiye Yogi bhaiya."

Veer's eyes snap up to hold hers, she is loading his plate now. Yogi bhaiya huh?

"Aap kitne achchi ho!" Yogesh sobs over his food. "Even my ma can't make this good parata! Ahhhh. Ooh!"

Veer crumples a paper in his clenching fist and throws it away. Why was this idiot moaning over a parata for heaven's sake!

"Bampbhi-" Yogesh speaks through his parata filled mouth.

"Swallow it," Amrit giggles, an unconscious hand brushing her throat. Veer wonders if Yogesh needed any help swallowing - a friendly pat on his back maybe or even a friendly punch to his gut..."

Amrit narrows her eyes at him, as if reading his thought. She tosses her hair back the moment their eyes meet and few jasmin flowers scatter on the ground.

Yogesh who has swallowed and followed it with a swing of tea has to ruin that moment.

"Aap na kudhrat ki kamaal ho! God's gift to mortal like us - I mean koi itni kubsoorat, itni achchi bhi ho aur itni achchi khana bhi banaye ab -"

Veer stands up and walks away before he ends up making a fool of himself. There are books that he needed for his preparation.

Yes, books - he wanted to read up on ... absentmindedly he runs his finger down the spine of a book, stopping somewhere down the aisle... separation of powers ... the only separation he could think of right then was Yogesh from his food.

Veer walks on, Amrit's giggles seem to follow him and so does Yogesh's praises. Veer grits his teeth. Is it necessary to break into bhajan per morsel you eat?
Prerogative? He considers the title. If he had one he would chase those two out of his presence. Supremacy - his wife was hellbent on showing who had that.

The sound of giggles has died out and he could no longer hear Yogesh. Veer sighs and fingers through different volumes on constitutions.

As he puts back "checks and balances the spine of democracy" soft fingers brush against his.

Veer jerks and his eyes flicker up. Over the books in the upper shelf, eyes rimmed with wine catch his.
There is laughter in them, there is challenge and despite all his reservations he sees that there is love.

"Haan toh Yogi Bhaiya teek se khaiye aap. You were saying you have a long day ahead," Amrit calls over running her hand parallel with his brushing over titles that neither of them care about anymore.

"Yes," Yogesh answers, stuffing himself with yet more paratas.

"We have to go interview some patients. Then go to that doctor. He isn't going to talk. Then we'll probably end up roaming the hospital looking for other sources - do you know aap ke miyaan ne ek baar mera khoon karwate karwate bache the? He made me crawl through a half open window! Achcha Hua that I'm so skinny, I thought I'll come out like a ribbon from the other side!"

"Yeh toh bohut galat Hua na," Amrit gives him the proper reaction, although her eyes are unwaveringly on Veer.

They had reached the end of that shelf and there are no more books between them.

Her palm makes contact with his and both freezes for a moment, before Amrit's fingers clasp his Veer pulls her closer, giving into that stirring urge.

Gently he presses her against the shelf, peering into her widening eyes.

"Yeh kya tha biwi sahab?" His voice comes out thicker than he wanted.

It is difficult to think straight with that heady scent of jasmin and sandalwood. Veer allows his fingers to trail along her kamarbandh, each cool pearl lined along her waist.

Amrit fists his collar in response and pulls him closer.

"Demonstration," she says.

"Of what - pray tell?"

His fingers sink into her waist, his thumb stroking the creamy expense of skin.

"You don't have to scare truth out of people. Dekhiye, how easily I got Yogesh bhai to tell me where you were going, what your plans were - unhe pata bhi nahi chala!"
She sounds so victorious, so childlike in her success that it's endearing. Veer drinks in the warmth of her grin.

"I'll be having a word with Yogi about that," he tells her.

"Too late, don't you think?"

"You are not coming with us."

Amrit arches her eyebrow, tilts her chin, looks at him over her nose.

"No." Says Veer.

"I'm asking you not to go either. Uss doctor ko yahaan bhula lijiye. Joh kaam aap dhamki se karne wale hai Zara pyaar se kar ke dhekiye."

"Humein pyaar karna nahi aata."

"Main sikha dungi."

"Too late. Don't you think?"
Amrit smiles, few more jasmine flowers drop and bounce off her shoulders. Veer cannot help but trail their path with his fingers, along her throat over her shoulders.

"Poore zindagi padi hai jeene ko. Do pal ki dheri ka kya matlab?"

"Haan," Veer agrees, a weaker part of him falters and allows Amrit to pull him closer. "Koi matlab nahi."

Neither is aware who went to whose arms first, but his fingers are tangled in her hair coiled with jasmin and her nails lightly scratch over his nape, their breath mingle.

"A moment or two changes nothing." Veer breathes against her lips, his mouth brushes against her jaw and moves down her throat.

"Depends on the moment or two." Amrit sighs, her hand sinking further beneath his collar to seek his skin.

Behind her the shelf rattles and a book falls from the top shelf. Veer catches it before it lands on Amrit's head, but the spell is broken.

As she watches his expression closes off, he takes a step back, brushing away the jasmin flowers that had come free with the hand that he withdraws from her hair.

"You are right," he tells her. "It depends on the moment."

Amrit however isn't that keen to remove herself from his arms. Instead she touches a hand to his cheek.

"You are running a fever again."

"Doesn't matter."

"Matters to me," she bites her lip. "Why are you feverish Veer?"

He holds her hand. Pulls it away from his face rather roughly. He just wants her to stop, just stop lavishing so much affection on him that it becomes difficult to remain stoic.

But Amrit flinches. It is then that he unfolds her fist and looks at her palm, its scalded.

"Yeh kaise hua?" His voice drops to a dangerous pitch. Amrit says nothing. There is a bitter twist to her mouth. "Jawaab do!"

She chuckles.

"It doesn't matter!" She pulls away her hand and gently pushes him off, all ready to walk off. It is Veer who holds her back now.

"Amrit -"

She looks at him over her shoulder.

"Agar aap apne dard chupayenge toh meri dard par bhi aap ka koi haq nahi."

She pulls her hand free of his grasp.

"Just so you know, jinke liye khana banate banate  Maine apni haat bhi jhala li, unhone toh ek niwala bhi nahi khaya."

Veer's sigh rattles his frame, his shoulders droop. He folds himself around her, wrapping her in a back hug, that holds her back pressed against his chest. His forehead rests against her shoulder.

"Don't do this to me," he begs.

"Don't do this to us," she prays.

"Mujhe kush rehena hai. Mujhe meri kushi de dijiye, Kuwar sahab. Mujhe mere pati lauta dijiye."

*

"Ranjhan babhi!" Yogesh calls over.

Both of them could hear his approaching steps. Amrit wipes at her tears hastily yet Veer is no longer of a mind to let her go. Instead he tugs her after him and both of them ducks out of the main aisle into a darkened sub aisle with less sought after books.

Veer walks through the library as if it's his backyard and they end up in a brick walled corner alcove where a cosy reading space has been built. 

Amrit allows him to back her against the wall, her breath catches when he takes her hand in his and presses a gentle kiss upon that stinging palm.

"Khilaongi nahi?" He asks. "Khana?"

Amrit blinks at him, taken by surprise.

"You want to?"

"Hmm."

"Abhi layi!" She smiles, her eyes fill with such undiluted emotion that Veer has to swallow a knot in his throat.

"Not here," he tells her. "Let Yogesh enjoy his food in peace. Kamrein mein chalte hai. The servant's exit is through here."

Peals of her laughter rings softly. Amrit rests her forehead against his shoulder and giggles into his heart. Veer allows himself a moment more to soak in the sunshine of her proximity and holds her close. Her giggles sync against the beat of his heart.

"You are jealous," Amrit informs him. "Oh, oh," her voice dissolves into more laughter. "If I'd known - if I'd known - ke aap itne, itne aazani se jhalte hai toh  - toh main -"

"Jaan le longi tum kabhi," he mutters into her hair.

Amrit doesn't say anything, she holds herself against his heart, looking up at him with eyes that slowly brim.

"Kya sab kuch aisa nahi ho sakta? Har din, har pal issi tarah nahi ho sakta? Kya humare beech sab teek nahi ho sakta?"

Veer doesn't answer that, instead he presses a chaste kiss on her forehead.

"Tumhari galati nahi hai. Some stories are supposed to be left like that, adhuri si. Uljhi hui. Kuch log bhi..."

"Par main aap ko poora karna chahti hoon. Aap se kudh ko poora karna chahti hoon. Bass itna hi toh chahti hoon - kya mujhe itna nahi mil saktha?"

Veer has no more answers to give, instead he buries his head against her hair, resting his face against the cool smoothness of her throat. His head is throbbing, he does not want to argue.

Amrit feels the burning heat that emits from him. She rests a concerned hand against his face, he burrows against it, gratefully.

"Your hand is cold," he says; a feverish confession that brings more tears to her eyes. "I hate to be ill. Bimaar hota hoon toh mehesoos hota hai ke kitna akela hoon. Phir woh sab yaad aajati hai joh hum sochna nahi chahte."

"Aap kaha akhele hai?" Amrit mutters, stroking through his hair. "Main hoon na?"

"Don't say that," he hums against her throat. "Dadi sahab bhi aisi keheti thi, baba sahab bhi aise kehete the. Phir dono hi ghuzar gaye." He sighs. "Unke bohut yaad aate hai. I shouldn't be doing this - I should let you go. Bass mann nahi maan raha. Sochne par bhi itna dard hota hai ke hum -"

He is dimly aware of Amrit leading him through the servant's passage. Veer could hardly think of anything beyond his pounding head. He wasn't so badly ill in the morning, nor the night before. Right then, he couldn't even open his eyes against the blinding morning light.

Amrit helps him to the bed and moves away to draw the curtains, blocking that sharp painful sunlight. Veer allows the hand that he shields his eyes with to fall away.

Amrit takes that hand and unfastens his wristwatch, then undoes his cuffs.

"Aap aaj Kahi nahi jaa rahein," she says authoritatively. She moves to take off his shoes and Veer protests rather weakly.

"Nahi. Peir matt chuna -"

Amrit shakes her head at him and unlaces his shoes to pull them off.

"Iss main Kaunsi badi baat hai? You've done a lot more than this for me. Kuwar sahab, falling ill is nothing to be ashamed of and I don't find it insulting to take care of my husband. Ab main jo karti hoon apna samajh ke karti hoon. Agar aap mujhe apna na samjhe toh ..."

He tugs at her hand and Amrit falls into his arms with a gasp.

"Tumhara hoon," he gives in, pressing his face into her hair. "Jo karna hai karlo. Par tumhe apna samajhne ka nazeeb nahi hai humara."

Amrit pulls back, stares at him. His eyes are closed, his face is flushed with heat.

"Kyun kudh ko tadpaate rehete ho?" She mutters, caressing his face. "Ab aur kya yakeen dilaye aap ko? Haan? Iss janam mein toh aur kissi ki ho nahi sakti."

He doesn't reply. He doesn't open his eyes. Amrit wonders where his feverish dreams take him, back to that childhood where he was alone going through a bout of fever while being grounded - or some other similar devastating memory?

"Veer," she mutters, allowing her fingers to trace his features.

He is too beautifully made to be burdened with such a cruel fate. He must have been a beautiful child. To have tortured him so, degraded and ruined him over something he was barely responsible for - to hurt him so that he was scared of even feeling happy - her heart aches for him. That woman does not deserve a son and Amrit pities her no more.

"So jaaiye jaan."

*

The doctor is taken aback by the look in her face that he speaks no more. Amrit presses her lips and clenches the papers tightly in her hand. At the moment, she is unaware how much of a queen she looks. 

The doctor had just finished telling her that as a recovering alcoholic, her husband is bound to go through spells of fever, which is his body's reaction to the pain of withdrawal.

His choice of words had not been ideal perhaps, that the young woman looks positively livid.

"Kitna dard hota honga," she says softly then. "Lekin kabhi zahir nahi karta. And I made him go through this - because you told me, you told me that if he stops drinking everything will be alright!"

The doctor sighs, takes a slow measured inhale.

"Kuwar Rani sahiba, what I said then was true. I stand by it. Your husband has very destructive drinking habits, had he continued in that way - ek do saal mein, unki liver itni damage hojaati ke Shaayad unhe bachana na mumkin hota.   Ab woh kudh isse rokh na chahte hai, kudh ko badalna chahte hai toh aap ko unka saat deni chahiye."

Amrit says nothing. Of cause she knows the doctor speaks the truth. And there was no need to ask her to be supportive. The doctor fidgeted a bit.

"Aap bhura na mano toh ek baat pooch sakta hoon?"

"Ji, poochiye, doctor sahab."

"Look, Kuwar Rani sahiba, I've been practising my profession for decades. I've seen alcoholism, I've seen cases worse than your husband. Therefore, I couldn't help but notice something strange. This particular withdrawal symptom, is not associated with alcoholism. And I've noticed during my few examinations that his heart is developing palpitations, not quite common among people of his age."

The doctor shifted to the edge of his seat and his wrinkled eyes bore into Amrit's.

"What I'm going to ask you, answer carefully. Have you noticed any errant behaviours, agitation - aggression from your husband?" Ameit opened her mouth to deny but the doctor pressed on.

"Dekhiye, soch samajh ke Jawaab dijiye. Does he have often recurring headaches? He might not tell you but you might have noticed him massaging his temples perhaps? Does he have episodes where he begins to develop trouble in breathing, where he starts trembling -"

Amrit is reminded of that panic attack, and the almost instinctive action of Veer rubbing his temples or pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Haan," she says slowly. "When drums are beating, he - he gets bothered. Says his head is pounding."

The doctor claps his hands together.

"What do you think it means doctor sahab?"

"Opium," the old doctor comments rather darkly. "Kuwar Rani Sahiba your husband has been drugged. Yeh aaj ki ya kuch dino ki baat nahi hai. Jitna azar un par hua hai aisa lagta hai ke shayad bohut saalon se - shayad kuda na kare - bachpan se, unhe yeh dawa pilai gayi ho. In his growing, developing years  this drug has been introduced to his system. And now his body has drawn used to it, craves it - to such an extent that liquor has only been a secondary replacement to the intoxication that he is habitual to."

Amrit clasps a hand to her mouth.

"Dekhiye, bhagvaan ka shukar kijiye. Most people go mad when they are exposed to drugs as children. Kuwar sahab ke saat aisa kuch toh Hua nahi. Aur yeh baat waqt rehete humein pata chal gaya. Otherwise his heart would have weakened over the time and his mental condition would have deteriorated. Nobody would have known -"

Amrit stands up, hugging herself, turning away from the eager doctor's explanation.

She does not want to hear anymore of that particular scenario, of exactly how Veer would have died a slow, malicious death without anyone knowing.

"Aap ko kya lagtha hai? Yeh kiss ne kiya honga -" the doctor wonders aloud.

"I don't know." Amrit cuts him off. "Jiss ne bhi kiya ho, Insaan nahi ho sakta. Kher, mujhe Bass yahi jaan na hai ke unhe ab kaise bachaya jaaye? How are we to reverse the damage already done? Aap bass humein itna bata dijiye."

"But Kuwar Rani Sahiba-"

"I don't care, doctor sahab. Iss waqt mujhe sirf apne pati ke chinta hai. Ek baar woh teek ho jaaye, yeh kaam jiss kissi ne bhi kiya ho unko bhi dekh lungi main."

Now that the doctor knows that fury in her face is not directed at him, he allows himself a little respite. Just then the door to the study opens and walks in a cameraman.

"Ranjhan babhi aap kaha chali gayi -" he begins and pauses when he notices the stress in Amrit's expression and the presence of the doctor. "What is happening?"

"Kuch nahi Yogi bhaiya," Amrit drops the queenly demeanour instantly. "Unka toda tabhiyat karab hai. Toh doctor sahab ko bhula liya maine."

"Oh? What happened all of a sudden? Should we postpone the interview then?"

"Nahi!" Amrit decides quickly. "If you don't mind I'll come with you instead. I might not be as good as him but jitna mujhse ho sake main karungi. Unka koi kaam adhuri nahi reheni chahiye."

"But..." Yogesh fidgets. "Akif bhai does  not want you to get involved in this. You see this concerns Nalini Devi and going against her and Rana Chandra Singh Rathod is bit of a -"

"Trust me Yogi Bhaiya, uss Rani Sahiba ke kilaf jaane ka aaj bohut mann kar raha hai. And I'm afraid this is one thing I might do better than Akif."

"Uh huh?"

"Till today Ranjhan has wrote about what she lost. Now the world will see what she does to protect what she has. Jin logon ke paas khone ke liye bohut kuch na ho, unse kuch cheen ne ka anjaam bhura hota hai. Rani Sahiba yeh Ranjhan se seekhengi."

**
I'm extremely sorry about the delay. I came home after months being stuck in the city due to covid restrictions. And the journey took a large part of yesterday. It was already midnight by the time I touched home, so could not get this edited in time.
All the messages enquiring for the update made me feel so warm and happy btw, I'm doing all right, thank you for your concern lovely people! ❤❤🤗
So the last part of #5for25Party
I hope you enjoyed what you read, let me know in the comments. And yes, shower some love through votes as well.
See you on Monday!