Raman worked on his project for most of the afternoon.

As she busied herself in the kitchen with her recipe books and the ingredients for a pasta sauce, Ishita could hear him stamping about in the living room, yelling at Mihir and his other colleagues over the phone.

"Kitna gussa hai" she shuddered. "Ab aaya na Raavan mode mein".
(Such anger. He sure is back in his Raavan mode)

She wondered how he would take her attempts to talk to him about Ruhi.

He would probably yell, she decided, but she couldn't let that put her off. Ruhi loved her papa, and now she knew that Ruhi's papa loved her, she was determined to make him acknowledge that and help him see that he needed to work on his relationship with his daughter.

"Well, he will certainly be in a better mood if I feed him well, so this pasta had better turn out right" she murmured to herself, as she re-checked the recipe for the umpteenth time.

Ishita knew that she made good South Indian food and she could even make passable Punjabi and other North Indian food, but Italian was totally nouvelle cuisine for her. But now she knew he loved Italian,  and fortuitously the recipe book had some vegetarian recipes, so she was determined to make him his faviroute cuisine.  She crossed her fingers and sent up a quick prayer, hoping her efforts would be rewarded with something edible.

Prayer concluded, she smiled as she put some vine ripened tomatoes in a colander to wash.

He may have been shouting and screaming over the phone at his hapless co- workers now, but she knew he had enjoyed her company this morning.

She had seen her own contentment reflected in his face as they had worked together. Now she just had to get him to open up, to talk to her about Ruhi. She did not know why, but she felt she had to get to the reason behind his anger, his tears - this could be their last evening together, and her last chance.

For Ruhi's sake, she had to try. Sirf Ruhi ke liye.

But no, she had to be honest with herself. She wanted to know the reason for his pain, so she could help him. She wanted to soothe away the anguish from his brow, wanted to see him smile, wanted to see him happy. And that was not for Ruhi. No, that was not just for Ruhi.

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Raman frowned as he turned off his laptop.

He had needlessly screamed at Mihir and his entire office just as the workday was starting in India. Poor Mihir would have just stepped off the plane, would not even have had the opportunity to go through the concepts that Raman had emailed, yet he had made him into a scapegoat as well.

"Scapegoat for what Raman" he asked himself. "Just what is going on with you?"

He had so enjoyed this morning with Ishita.

After his breakdown last night, and when she had started to ask probing questions this morning, he had been afraid that she would be piqued by his silence on the subject, would withdraw into herself.

But no, she had read his mood, had stopped enquiring, and had followed his lead and shared light hearted anecdotes with him instead.

Except for his family and work colleagues, his encounters with women over the past six years had been for one purpose only - sex.

And before his divorce - well, Shagun had been beautiful, but she was an airhead. He could discuss nothing of any substance with her; her conversation had always been about Shagun - her make up, her clothes, her figure, her complexion. When she talked about other people, it was to engage in vicious gossip. Since his blinkers about Shagun had fallen off, he had come to realise what a vacuous empty woman she was, and how lucky his Ruhi was not to be influenced by her, brought up by her.

Instead his Ruhi had a friend like Ishita. A friend who he knew loved his little girl like a mother should.

Ishita. Their conversations and his observations of her these past three days had made him realise just how mistaken he had been about her. He cringed now as he recalled the things he had said to her, the way his actions had hurt her and her family. She was nothing like he had demonised her to be. Instead, she was an intelligent, kind, compassionate, slightly naive but very charming young woman who was great company. And attractive. Very attractive.

God, how he wanted her. There were so many times today when he had wanted to pull her into his arms, to tuck the stray lock of hair falling across her face behind her ears, to caress her pink cheeks and then to take her plump pink lips with his, to kiss her senseless, make her gasp with need, to feel her, hold her, to make her his.

But he knew he had to keep up his guard around her.

For she was not just attractive, but she was the first woman in his life in whose arms he wanted to throw himself and cry out all his fears and frustrations.

He had felt safe in her arms. Safe like he had never felt before. He had felt at home, as if he had found the place he had been searching for all his life.

And he could not let her know that. Could not make himself vulnerable to her. Because he knew what women were like and he could not open himself up to heartache again. Never.

He wanted to run away, to lock himself in this room, to not see her again until they were both able to leave here. Once they were out of here, out of this isolation, back in India, he knew that he would be able to bury himself in work,construct enough misunderstandings to get her to hate him again.

But here his defences failed him- try as he might, he could not help but care for her; could not help but show his concern.

"Just one or two more days Raman" he assured himself. "You can do it. Just keep away for a bit longer, and then you can say goodbye to all this and become Raavan again."

**********************************************************************************************************
Ishita set the food on the table and looked at it again nervously. Pasta with special sauce, salad, bread rolls. She hoped that the pasta was tender enough, the sauce tasty, and she hoped that Raman would enjoy it.

"Where was Raman" she wondered.

It had been almost an hour since she had heard him shouting into the phone, but he had not come out to the living room.

She took off her apron, smoothed back her hair and paced nervously as she waited for him.

"The sauce will get cold" she muttered to herself. "Should I put it back on the stove, or should I just go and see where he is ? It's almost 8pm."

She nervously walked down the hall to Raman's room. He was in the room furthest down the hall from hers, she knew.

She paused at the door, hesitating. Then she took a deep breath and knocked.

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Raman knew that he was being cowardly, hiding in the room, but his emotions were too raw and he did not know how to deal with them.

He did not know what the blinding need he felt for her, combined with the urge to protect her and the safe haven he found in her arms actually meant.

He did not know and he did not want to know.

So he had spent the past hour or so trying to work up the courage to go out and be rude to her, to make her hate him again so that she would not come near him, so that he could resist the urge to pull her to him, to caress her and hold her tight.

But his courage had failed him and he had remained in the room.

He had seen her poring over those damn recipe book today; he knew she was planning a special meal; he knew sooner or later she would come to enquire about him.

"And then what, Raman," he asked himself. "And then what?"

He took another sip of the whiskey he had been nursing for the past half hour.

And then he heard the knock on the door.

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"Raman" Ishita called out softly.

There was no answer.

She knocked again, louder this time.

"Raman?" There was an urgency in her voice now, a tinge of approaching panic. "Raman?"

Raman sighed as he got up. He knew he could not ignore her; could not shout out at her to go away. He would have to face her.

*********************************************************************************************************
The door was flung open. Raman stood there. He had obviously showered, his hair damp, and was wearing jeans and a black t-shirt.

"Yes Ishita" he couldn't, he wouldn't look at her. "What is it?"

"Woh, dinner tayar hai Raman. Aap aaye nahin, toh mein ne socha mein..."
(Dinner is ready Raman. You didn't come, so I thought I would...)

"I'm not hungry Ishita. Bhook nahi hai mujhe"

"But Raman, I've made pasta for you. Aap ne kaha tha aap ko pasand hai."
(You said that you like pasta, so....)

Raman hardened his heart and looked at Ishita, his face set in a scowl.
"Pasand hai kaha tha, lekin tumhe banane ke liye toh nahi kaha tha na" ( I said I like it, yes, but I never said I wanted you to make it for me, did I?)

Her beautiful brown eyes were swimming in tears.
"But..but Raman, I thought you'd like it. Why are you..."

"Who asked you to think, Ishita" he forced himself to continue to look at her. "If I'm hungry, I'll get something to eat. Just because I'm forced to stay here with you doesn't mean I have to eat what you cook or spend time with you. Now do you mind? "

He made as if to close the door, but Ishita reached out and grabbed his hand.

"Why are you acting like this Raman? What's happened?"

"I'm not acting like anything Ishita. This is who I am"

Ishita shook her head vehemently.

"No" she cried out. "This is not who you are. Who you are is the father who got so excited at seeing his daughters email today, who keeps her photos all over his phone and computer, even though he can't tell her he loves her. Who you are is the man who stayed up all night to watch over me after my accident. Who you are is the man who hides his tears from the world. That's who you are Raman"

Raman looked away, the hurt and sincerity in her eyes piercing daggers through him.

Ishita was still holding on to his hand and she now moved her other hand to his face, cupping his chin gently.

"Raman, what's wrong with you? Please just tell me"

"Why? Why should I tell you? What business is it of yours? Who are you to me anyway? Huh? Kaun ho tum? "

"Koi nahi" she replied. "I'm no one to you Raman, but Ruhi is, she's your daughter and she's also the daughter of my heart. For her sake, tell me what's wrong. You were mumbling her name last night Raman. Ruhi, Shagun and Adi. Over and over. Who is Adi Raman? And why are you separated from your wife if you love her so much, that you cry for her even today? I can help you Raman..."

"No you can't" he cried out, grabbing her and pulling her close to him. "Look at me Ishita, I'm beyond help. No body can help me and I wish you would just mind your own bloody business and stop trying."

Ishita stared into his eyes. The anguish in them, in his face, was so palpable, so real, she could almost reach out and touch it. He stared deeply at her, then pushed her away, turning his face away, as he saw her gaze soften.

"No, no, no" he told himself. " I have to keep her away. She has to hate me like before."

He turned back towards her.

"Why are you so interested in my life?" He asked through gritted teeth, hating himself for what he was doing. "Maybe I was right about you after all. Maybe you are just after a rich man to keep you. And you think that because we are here alone, you can weasel your way into my life by showing your fake concern for me and my daughter?"

Ishita reeled back as if he had struck her.

"No" she cried out, before turning on her heels and running away.

Seconds later, he heard the front door slam shut.

"Ishita" he shouted. It was dark outside, there was snow everywhere, where the hell was she going. He ran after her, his heart in his mouth. "Ishita"

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Ishita had no idea where she was going. All that she knew was that she wanted to get away from him, wanted to get as far away from him and his accusations as she could.

She ran straight out into the night, unheeding of the cold, straight down the path they had cleared this morning. Suddenly she found herself being pulled back, two strong arms grabbing her shoulders and pulling her into his chest.

"Let me go " she shouted " let me go,damn you"

"No" he said quietly but firmly. Then as she continued to struggle, he turned her around to face him."

The bright moonlight lit up their faces, hers furious, his inscrutable.

"Ishita listen to me. Listen to me"

"Listen to what? Listen to you insult me more?"

"Ishita, Adi is my son" he shouted.

**********************************************************************************************************

It was ten minutes later. They were sitting by the fire, side by side on the sofa.

She had reeled in shock after he had made his announcement, staring at him in disbelief.

"Your son? But Ruhi never mentioned..."

"It's a long story Ishita. Ruhi doesn't even know she has a brother. I'm sorry for the things I just said to you, but I didn't want to talk about this. I .. I can't talk about Adi. I haven't even taken his name to anyone in years."

"Raman, I'm sorry, I..."

"But I'll tell you Ishita" he had said. "I don't know why, but I feel I can talk to you. And I finally want to talk about Adi."

She had touched him tentatively and he had pulled her into his arms, tears coursing down his face.

"I'm sorry" he had whispered. " I'm sorry if I hurt you, I just... this is just so difficult for me"

"Shhh" Ishita had tightened her arms around him, allowing him to lean into her. "It's okay, Raman. You don't have to say anything."

"No, I want to" he had responded, stepping out of her embrace. " I want to"

And now she sat with him. He put out a hand and she took it, then he took a deep breath and started.

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Yeh Hai Meri Kahani
Khamosh Zindagani
Sannata Keh Raha Hai
Kyun Zulm Seh Raha Hai
Ek Dastaan Purani
Tanhayi Ki Zubani
Har Zakham Khil Raha Hai
Kuch Mujh Se Keh Raha Hai
Chubtay Kantay Yadoon Ke Daaman Say Chunta Hoon
Girti Deewaron Ke Aanchal Mai Zinda Hoon