"Hello?" Faajal anxiously asked on the phone. It was midnight, with everyone into slumber. "Yusuf hain?"

"Aap kaun?" A high-pitched voice spoke from the other side.

"Umm, main Faajal hu. Aap kaun ho?"

"Hamare bhaijaan ko jante ho aur hume nahi jante?" The voice exclaimed.

Faajal wondered whether it was Anas, Yusuf's youngest brother. "Aap Anas ho?"

"Aapko kaise paata?" Anas shrieked, gasping.

"Chaal jati hain. Zara aapne bhaijaan ko de sakte ho?"

"Anas, kaun hain itni der?" Yusuf's voice reached the telephone. "Koi Faajal naam ki koi ladki."

Faajal straightened up, reluctant to speak with him after what had occurred. "Tu itni raat mein baith baith ke radio sun raha hain!? Teri school nahi hain? Chaal abh ja!" Yusuf scowled.

Anas' voice groaned behind. "Abhi kucch din hi toh huye hain!"

"Chup chap sone ja! Varna–"

"Hello?" Faajal said.

"Kya hain?" His tone dwindled, but serration remained.

"Kaal shayad phirse studio jaana parega mujhe. Tu aa sakta hain? Bas thodi der keliye......Bohot din huye hain–" She stuttered.

He gave a pause, probably considering if things could turn like before again. "Itni gaalti karne ke baad toh mujhe tujhpe mutaalba chalani chahiye. Ulta tu mujhpe hukum chaala rahi hain?!"

"Hukum kahan? Bas ek hi guazarish." She pursed her lips.

He sighed, "Thik hain, thik hain. Thodi akkal aayi isiliye koshish karunga. Par teri saaza abhi baki hain."

"Jo dena hain de dena. Bas ekbaar teri surat dikha de."

"Itni tension diyi, surat ki bhi band baji huyi hain. Chaal ja abh sone aur thodi akaal thikane pe laga."

Faajal repressed a wide grin, wobbling her lips. She kept the telephone down and slipped onto her bed.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Faajal sat in a desolate backroom, awaiting his arrival. A box full of khir rested beside her. Finally, that familiar place with that familiar person again.....

Suddenly, someone tugged her behind. Yusuf had bitten the edge of her dupatta and towed it back. She grinned, holding her dupatta and tracing his steps. When he paused, she pulled out the edge and chuckled. He didn't return that like usual rather he kept his countenance impenetrable. She nibbled on her bottom lip. "Maafi paata hain itni jaldi nahi milegi. Par dubara saath aane ki khushi mein munh mitha toh banta hain." Her eyes squinted, begging him.

He remained stoic, crossing his arms over chest. Faajal approached again. "Ma ne banayi hain tere liye." Silence dodged her words.

She sighed, "Thik hain. Main hi khaa lungi." She picked up the box when he snatched it away and trailed off to the podium. Unsnapping the lid, he shoved a spoonful in his mouth furiously. She joined beside, her lips curved. "Haye, sara mat khatam kardiyon. Thoda hamare liye bhi bacha."

He glowered and withdrew. Then, shoved a spoonful in her mouth. She chewed the sweet rice grains while the creamy milk blessed her tongue. They chewed on each other's portions with silence, but she could sense the ice melting.

"You know, I am still angry with you." He punctured the muteness lastly.

"I know." She murmured.

"How could you believe so easily—"

"Because I am a fool just as you said."

"Glad you finally recognize yourself."

"Not only myself. I recognize the snakes disguised as my family."

He cocked his head in curiosity. "Saira di. My own sister who was so intent on damning my life."

"She has guts though to mail not one, but two damn postcards! Pran almost lost all his brain cells after hearing—" The subject himself disrupted. "What are you two talking about me behind my back?"

"That postcard!" Faajal piped up.

"Ooh well, that incident. That was really bad. I thought after all these years together I was to lose my friend group."

"I am so sorry on Chanchal's behalf. She was so worried back then,"

"It's alright. But, tell her to behave otherwise, she won't be getting any spouse." Pran spoke in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Look what the expert says!" Yusuf chortled.

Pran, now a renowned artist in the theatres, had gained an uncanny knack of luring girls into his flashy smile and snaring aura. He had always been proud of his symmetrical features, but now they were his tackles to being a heartthrob. Those poor girls would have their relationships last only a few weeks before he walked away when the girls wanted to go deeper. According to him, they grew too clingy and nagging. Despite his engagement in these activities, he was obtaining steady and sustainable prominence in the studio.

"Which one have you snared today?" Faajal asked.

"Not yet. Left the last one. Too much tender and whiny."

"So prying for the next victim?"

"How come are they victims? I am the victim. Do you know how I handle these girls? Can't seem to find my match." He huffed.

"You won't have to. Your state is such that your parents will get you cured." Yusuf sneered.

"They? They can't even fix their arguments! How come they will fix my problem?"

"By getting you married," Yusuf replied with a straight face.

The three erupted in a feat of laughter. "That will be a scary and impossible thing." Pran tittered.

"I pray you're the first one to marry among us," Faajal added.

Pran moaned, "No! I want you two to tie the knot first and let me savour ten plates of biryani. Then, I shall proceed."

Faajal could feel pink splashes dusting her ears. She tucked a strand behind her ear to divert her mind. "Aish, by the state of the snakes in her house, let's wait and watch. But, I am...." Yusuf peeped at Faajal by the corner of his eye. "I am all ready."

"If snakes disturb too much, become runaways and marry in a masjid." Pran advised.

"What's the time now?" Faajal stood up. Ravinder might search for her anytime now. "11.30," said Yusuf.

"Let me check on baba. He may be done by now." She trailed before Devika Rani's office to see it closed still and returned. "No trace. I wonder what's happening till now."

"Groping for a better director perhaps. Asad's seriousness paid off, but couldn't hold mainstream viewers." Yusuf frowned.

Till now, their film gathered about 12 lakh, not bad but not also satisfactory. It didn't matter as long as the experiences gained from here were valued. As a young actress, experience was more precious than box-office collection.

They gossiped some more moments before Pran set off and Yusuf and Faajal bid farewells.

"I still have some grudges against you, but thanks for the khir." He flashed a bright smile, torching her sight. "Give any censure than parting away from me, rangrez. Your smile is the dye of my world."

"And it's your duty now on to never let that fade again." He jokingly commanded, straightening like a king.