Mirror

Summary:  "Iss dardh ka koi dawa nahi hai biwi sahab, hum dono ka koi ilaj nahi hai."

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||Listen to the song! :-)||

"You are going to end up getting such a bad cold you know?" Veer mutters as they go up the stairs. "Pagal ho tum. Aise baarish main jaata hai kya koi?"

Amrit tunes him out and focuses on stopping her teeth from rattling. Veer hands her his own change of clothes that he hadn't touched before.

"See if any of these fits," he doesn't sound very confident himself.

"There's no question of attending that dinner anymore. So no need to look all presentable. Hum darwaza lock kar denge, koi tumhe in kapdon mein nahi dekhenga. Go, go! Don't stand here trembling - get out of those - they are practically dripping."

Once she's gone, Veer wipes a hand over his face. What has he gotten himself into?

And why was he worried? He'd rather let her drown herself if it will give her a little brain but then - he couldn't watch from the side lines could he?

He was already too involved in this - in her - it almost scares him.

Then she had to go all blank and tell him to take care of her? It was unfair. Veer didn't take care of others. That wasn't his nature.

That just wasn't him.

But, was that why nobody stayed?

Was he supposed to give in order to receive? Did they all go because he didn't know how to give back?

Would Amrit stay then - if he finds out how, just how to reciprocate her care? He had never seen her so defeated, so worn out, so lost... she isn't supposed to look like that.

She is Amrit, the girl who dared to slap him of all people - that too in the middle of a crowded street.

Amrit comes out hesitantly, wringing her hands together, cheeks flushed and looking anywhere but at him.

Veer clears his throat, gulping down the urge to turn away. Well, what had possessed him to suggest this?

She had worn the shirt. It came down to her knees. It was a moot point that there was no need to weare or try to wear the trousers. They won't fit anyway.

But that shirt - how many times has he worn it before - why did it suddenly look so - Veer casts around for a word - problematic?

Oh well, it's better than dying of stupidity.

Veer takes a moment to realize he had said that out loud, just as well, he squares his jaw.

"Come here," he says, indicating the towel in his hand. "Bheegi ho toh ab bhugado!"

She says nothing, sits where he indicates and allows him to dry her hair. It must hurt, Veer has never tackled such long - or tangled mess in the name of hair before - but she makes no sound.

"Are you still cold? Amrit - kuch bolo?"

"I'm fine, Kuwar Sahab," she sounds listless enough that Veer begins to worry. Well there was only one remedy that he knew.

"Will you have some brandy?"

That gets a reaction. A rather abrupt shift of her gaze. She blinks up at him.

"Some of what?"

"Brandy. It's known to warm you up."  Veer explains, feeling like a fool every passing minute.

"And also to kill you if you drink too much," Amrit says drily.

"You can trust me to know enough to give you an amount that doesn't kill you biwi sahab. Aur waise bhi I don't think even sharab could improve your mood today. Kuch zada hi udaas ho tum."

"Are trying to get me drunk?"

Amrit frowns, a little fire returns to her gaze. Veer returns to her with a glass, carrying a measured amount of that amber liquid.

"If I wanted you Amrit, trust me I don't have to get you drunk," he says meaningfully, dipping his head down and staring into her eyes. "Hum kudh ek aisa nasha hai tumhe patha bhi nahi chalenga ke kab chadd gaya."

He makes her grip the glass and pulls the duvet up to her waist, noticing how she kept pulling that shirt down in a futile attempt to cover her legs.

"Peelo aur so jaao."

Amrit stares at the glass for a moment, swirling its content in her hand. Veer doesn't offer her another look, he simply walks to the window and stares out into the incessant rain, hands deep in his pockets.

Raising the glass to her lips Amrit tips back its contents.

They burn her mouth, and bring tears to her eyes. With effort she swallows it down, and they burn a bitter - nauseating path down her throat, then pools like heat on her stomach.

Amrit coughs, massaging her throat. She is unsure if it's her imagination or not, but tips of her fingers start to tingle with sparks of warmth.

"Where are you planning to sleep?" She asks Veer.

"Nowhere. I'm not planning to sleep. Once the rain stops I will return to boathouse and try to finish that sketch. Tum so jaao."

Amrit hiccups.

"Don't go," she says. "I can't sleep alone at strange places."

Veer turns to her, an eyebrow arched. He doesn't say anything, merely watches her with that look.

"I get nightmares," she say in a small voice.

"I know," Veer tells her. "I've heard you talking in your sleep - before. We may sleep in different rooms, but there is only a door between us."

"In my nightmares - I'm back at that place."

She doesn't mean to say it, but the words spill forth. Amrit closes her eyes tightly and last of her tears drain away.

"I see those eyes - glaring at me, leering at me. I feel those hands, hurting - branding. I - I hear those screams. In those dreams I don't have a knife with me - in those dreams I'm too slow, too tired - in those dreams he wins."

She feels foolish with each spoken word. She waits with dared to hear Veer laughing.

He doesn't laugh.

In fact the silence around her is so heavy that Amrit opens her eyes wondering if Veer had already left, bored by her whining.

But he is there, leaning against the window, hands gripping into the sill, looking at her as if he had never seen her before.

"I was in France in 1942," he says suddenly. "I still wonder why Ma Sahab said yes when I said I wanted to learn painting for real. I was eighteen - I could have died. I've seen enough to wish I did die. Maybe she too hoped that."

Amrit's mouth half parts. She didn't know. She was too young to taste the real implications of that war. But the torment in Veer's eyes is all too real.

"The man who taught me, he died in my arms. Delirious with blood loss, he kept calling me by the name of his dead son." His fist clenches. "I didn't correct him. I couldn't. I -" Veer swallows. "You might have heard Ma sahab droning on about leaving my studies mid way - have you? Never tells why, does she?"

"Veer..."

"All of us have a dark room inside our minds Amrit. All our lives we keep filling it with all the worst things, things we hide from ourselves. They are never truly gone. Those memories. Not as long as we live."

He comes to her and takes her hand, turns it over to examine her forearm.

"Even without this - you'll forever be branded by that man, by his memories. At least for all that pain you have something to show."

Veer bows and touches his forehead to Amrit's knuckles, still holding that hand. It is an odd gesture of intimacy that it makes her breath catch.

"Iss dardh ka koi dawa nahi hai biwi sahab, hum dono ka koi ilaj nahi hai."

Amrit sighs, fingers of her other hand find themselves brushing over Veer's head.

It is true then, that misery loves company. Veer's grip on her tightens and he looks up at her, his eyes searching.

"Did you mean what you said before? Do you really want me to take care of you? Do you mean it Amrit - in the sense I thought you meant it?"

In the pause that follows his words Amrit's heart begins to beat again.

Dil na dena toh dil mein uttarna bhi nahi...barbaad kardenga woh tumhe, kudhko aur poore duniya ko... that warning flashes in her mind, but Amrit is a child fascinated by its first sight of fire.

Nothing in the world could have stopped her from clasping the flame in an outstretched hand - nothing in the world could have saved her, for the ending of her story was already written somewhere in the stars.

"Haan." She says. "Haan. Haan."

**