Darmiyaan

Summary: Veer ko apna banana aazaan hai. Par usse chhod na - na mumkin. Usse aadat nahi hai muhabbat ki, apne dil na deni hai toh usske dil mein uttarna bhi nahi. Barbaad kardenga woh - tumhe, kudhko aur Poore duniya ko..."
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Dinner in Nawab Junaid Hussain Siddiquie's estate is a stately affair.

They are joined by the polo teams, still nursing bruised arms and egos - the in house team of Aawaz, who circle Farida in a tight knit group and political associates who cast suspicious glances periodically at Veer.

They had arranged refreshments in small tables scattered all over the garden, lit by lanterns in over hanging branches, lamps set on the tables and some of the prettiest garden lights Amrit had ever seen.

People of different circles mingled together, socializing, sampling snacks as they waited for the dinner proper.

Amrit had her much awaited discussion with Farida, sitting in the former's cozy office and now wandered through the garden feast aimlessly - looking for her make believe husband.

"Aap kaha ho Veer?" She muttered to herself for the umpteenth time.

But then, where would he be? Somewhere that offered him the only refreshment Kuwar sahab was fond of.

How stupid was Amrit not to check the bar first?

And of cause there he was. Nursing a drink in relative seclusion.

The bar, or probably some of it has been arranged into a garden gazebo for the occasion. Just as Amrit arrived Veer poured his drink over his knuckles, where even at distance she could spot a gash. He winced, suppressed a hiss between his pursed lips and clenched his jaw.

"Dawa dardh kar tha honga," Amrit says as she stands before him. "Lekin har dardh dene wali cheez dawa nahi hoti - Kuwar sahab."

"Arre Aagai tum?" He greets her, raising the glass. She takes it off his hand.

"You aren't drunk are you?"
Veer shakes his head.

"Bohut saal hogaye gham chupaate chupaate ke ab nashe ne bhi saat chor di." He reaches for the glass but instead Amrit takes his hand, examines the wound.

"How did this happen?"

"It's a sport injury Amrit, very common in the game." He shrugs, then meets her eye. "Why are you looking like that?"

Amrit sits on the stool beside him and takes her handkerchief to wrap around the wound.

"Why are you doing this?" Veer wonders aloud.

"Poore zindagi padi hai jeene ko, ek duzre ka jeena aazan toh kar hi sakthe hai." She responds in his words.

"Unhone tume bhi suna diya?" He asks with a dark chuckle. Amrit looks up at him surprised.

How did he know, how could he guess what Farida told her about him. Have they grown so close over such a short period of time that Veer could read her like an open book?

She remembered the older lady, gazing down at the garden from her study window.

"Veer ko apna banana aazaan hai. Par usse chhod na - na mumkin. Usse aadat nahi hai muhabbat ki, apne dil na deni hai toh usske dil mein uttarna bhi nahi. Barbaad kardenga woh - tumhe, kudhko aur Poore duniya ko..."

"What did she tell you - Kuwar sahab?" She asks instead.

A certain darkness flickers over Veer's eyes. Before she could read it, before she could brand it on her memory it's gone. Veer stand up, pulling her to her feet along with him.

"Chalo walk pe chalthe hai," he says rather cheerfully. "Begam sahiba ki gardens are rather beautiful."

He pulls Amrit along, down a well lit yet secluded path. The din of party conversation, faint traces of laughter soon fades away. Over head the sky is full of clouds and the air thick with scent of night blooming flowers and a promise of rain. Amrit's heart tightens with an overwhelming sense of nostalgia.

"You didn't tell me you too work for her Kuwar Sahab? That you make her cover arts?"

"You write - tumhare liye bhi bana denge." Veer says carelessly. As if the fact that he gave someone so much of his time and talent and a part of himself that he keeps hidden from other people meant nothing.

Amrit feels furious on his behalf. Veer had done so much for Farida Begam and there she was telling her to leave him before he gets too attached to her.

"She's using you," Amrit says automatically. Veer stops. "Woh aap ka faida uttha rahi hai Veer -"

"Jahaan main har koi har kissi ka faida uttha leithe hai Biwi sahab," Veer shrugs. "Faida uttha thi hai woh - par pyaar bhi toh karthi hai. Chinta karti hai humara- fikra hai unnhe humara -"

The moment he lets go of her hand Amrit suddenly realizes he was holding it all this time. She raises that hand and stares at her palm, suddenly feeling rather adrift.

"Come," Veer walks ahead. In the dim light she could no longer see his expression.

"You know once when I was little I ran away from home?" He calls over to her. "It must have been few years after Prem's death, suddenly the world had become too much to bear. Ma sahab had become too much to bear. Unko humein dekhna pasandh nahi tha toh hum yahaan Chale aaye - Anwar ke saath. You haven't met him yet have you? He is so good. He kept me hidden here - they couldn't find me for three days."

He laughs.

But all Amrit could feel is the chill in her heart. Which mother would not know her child was not at home for three days? What if he had gone and died somewhere - what if -"

The landscaped garden ends abruptly into a steep set of stairs the bottom steps dipping into water. Beyond them stretch out a circular lake. Amrit could make out a boat house.

It is also lit with lanterns for the occasion. The orcher lights casting golden shadows in the water below.

Amrit swallows. It is beautiful.

"Sambhal ke," Veer offers his hand to assist her down the steps. They are slippery and his other arm comes around her waist.

"That's where Anwar had hidden me. I still come to hide from time to time. They've left it for my own use now."

When he speaks his breath brushes against her ear, in shivering caresses of warmth.
Amrit's eyes shoot up to him. Suddenly realizing how close they are and how small she is compared to his much larger frame. He could wrap her in him if he wanted. That wayward thought brings color to her cheeks.

Her foot slips.

Amrit gasps and grabs into Veer's shoulder, his hands too, tighten upon her. It takes her a moment to catch her breath.

"Kya dekh rahi thi madam?" Veer asks her. "Kudh bhi ghirongi aur humein bhi ghiraongi. Chalo ab, sambalho - yes, that's it. - that's -"

He slips  this time and Amrit has to hold him. They stumble for a moment and finds a perilous balance, ending up with bumping their heads together.

For a moment Veer stands just like that, unmoving, his forehead touching hers, his eyes looking into hers.

Then he bursts out laughing.

He has a booming laugh, one that rumbles in his chest and spills forth. One that is infectious. Amrit finds herself giggling along with him, caught in the moment.

The weight in her chest is gone, the lump in her throat dissolves. The sound of their laughter intermingling feels strangely comfortable- like an old tune stuck in her head.

Over head the sky rumbles and heavy drops begin to fall. As the rain patter on his head and shoulders Veer's laughter slowly dies out. He pulls her along now, with a hand stretched out over her head, hurrying towards the boat house.

"Chalo chalo - come on Amrit hurry!"

"Slow down," she protests half heartedly, blinking against the raindrops. Now that they had cleared the stairs the wooden planks that made up the stage leading to the boathouse tapped under their feet. "Main ghirjaaungj!"

Veer pulled her closer instinctively, there was a promise in his eyes that held hers.

"Hum ghirne nahi denge."

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