To wish was to hope and to hope was to expect;* but sometimes things happen when you least expect them to...

That day when Sanskaar walked into Little Flowers neither he had hope nor expectation of running into Swara.

All these days somehow she had managed to avoid him successfully even at Little Flowers but today, call it quirk of fate or stroke of luck. As he walked in, he stopped in tracks.

There she is...

Sitting on the church steps with the kids sprawled around her ...A little smile played on her lips as she tossed a ball at one of the kids..

His throat closed up and there was an all-too-familiar burning in his chest...

This was his world ,where his true self belonged...with these kids ..with Swara.

" Sanskaar bhiayya..."

He was jerked out of his thoughts as one of the kids took his name looked at him with a broad smile playing on the lips. And just like that, the kids swarmed around him like they always did,hugging him, greeting him as he patted their heads and returned hugs and distributed the chocolates he would get for them every time he dropped in.They had welcomed him with open arms, like he had never been away.

She felt a sharp twinge in her heart looking at them.This used to be her favourite sight few days back ...kids ,sanskaar and their little world, before it was all ruined .The joy on his face...He back to his usual cheerful self with those kids around.

Who was real? this Sanskaar or the other one .. the smug, coolly aloof business man...

He looked at her from between kids and saw varied emotions playing on her face. She stood there, rooted to their favourite hang out spot -those church steps . His eyes met hers and again it was just both of them , Like the outside world didn't exist...

Why did he have to look at her like that...like she meant everything to him and the way his eyes lit up looking at her ..she hated it ..hated what she was feeling with his gaze upon her. She should be mad at him, hate him ..but his eyes ..Afraid of reading them and fearing her resolve would break, she broke the contact and started picking up her things to leave.

"Didi aap kaha jaa rahe ho??" one of the kids ran towards Swara.

"Woh beta thoda kaam hain," Swara answered in low tone checking contents in her bag unnecessarily.

So she was running away ...again, he thought.

Kids now ran towards Swara asking her not to go ..After what felt like ages they had their bhaiyaa and didi with them, as these days they were dropping by alone, and much less than they used to come in before. They didn't want to miss this chance.

"Mat jaavona didi ..abhi tho Sanskaar bhaiyaa aaye hain," little Rana tugged at her bag.

Manu pulled Sanskaar towards the steps , "bhaiya aap bolo na didi ko ki rukjaaye..woh aap ki baat jaroor manegi."

He wished he could stop her.

"Bolo nabhaiyaa," Manu tugged at his blazer demanding attention.

He slowly gathered his voice "Rukh jaavona ...please," he patted the child on the head gently. It sounded like a heartfelt plea and she looked around.. the kids

She didn't want to let them down and give them any hint of what was going on between their bhaiyya and didi. Life was a golden dream for them. They didn't need the harsh reality of broken hearts and lies.

Silently she took bag off shoulder and settled down on the steps as the kids danced around in their style. He knew why she stayed back, not for him but for kids. She was just playing her part and he had to play his role . He got the message clearly but at least these few stolen moments would help him survive for next few more days. Gearing up for that already, he sat down beside her and for a while it looked like everything was back to normal.

This time when Sanskaar asked to drop her, she couldn't really refuse. Whenever they dropped in together the kids knew this ritual. Little more role play, she thought. He waited with bated breath for her answer and the minute she said yes,he sighed with relief. That little hope somewhere inside him took wings... Maybe he could get her to listen today. Without words they walked slowly towards his car; the kids came down to bid them bye. She waved at them, attempting another smile for their benefit. Smiles hurt these days, though.

Sanskaar waved Bye to the children, turned the car around.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was a silent drive for half the route...until he spoke up. The silence was suffocating him.

"Swara," he said softly.

"Maine haan sirf bacho ke liye kaha hain," she kept it to the point.

"Jaanta hoon," he said resignedly. Of course he knew that. "Par - "

"Mujhe tumse koi baat nahi karni aur koshish bhi mat karna," she crossed her arms, as if she needed the additional defense.

She was rude and curt and she knew it ..It hurt him.. she knew that as well but..she had no choice. She turned her face towards window not wanting to look at him, adding "aur mujhe ghar jaldi pahuchna hain."

That set him off.

Fine ..she didn't want to look at him, didn't want to talk, didn't want to listen. She wanted to be home soon. Fine. If that was what she wanted, fine...he stomped his foot onthe accelerator, racing the car at full speed, jerking her. "Sanskaar, kya kar rahe ho ?" The car hopped violently on a series of speed breakers but he didn't slow down a bit. "Dheere chalao, Sanskaar," she was frantic as he blew past a signal light, a second after it turned red. "Sanskaar main tumse baat kar rahi hoon slow dow-"...before she could complete, the car fishtailed and screeched to a sudden halt. She realized they had reached her apartment.

Shocked, she turned to look at him. Rage emanated from him in waves. His hands tight on the steering wheel, his features drawn taught.She had never seen him like this. Was this because of her .Did her actions affect him so much?! Did she matter so much to him that -

Not wanting to pursue that line of thought, she pushed the door open violently, in a hurry to get away from him and the storm of feeling. The door slammed shut behind her.

"Swara!" she was halfway to the lift in the time it took him to yank the key out and run after her.

She was jabbing at the lift button when he reached her, and before he could say a word, or even reach out and grab her hand, a rather noisy family that had spilled out of a car nearby converged near the lift, effectively blocking Swara from him. An elderly lady whom Swara greeted with a smile- she had plenty to spare for others, he thought- also joined the crowd.

Swearing under his breath, he got in the lift with Swara and old woman and the family of four - two arguing kids and their harassed parents juggling half a dozen shopping bags and their warring kids. Swara had squeezed into a corner of the lift to accommodate them; Sanskaar was stuck near the door, with these people between them. He could hardly see her face in the medley of confusion and elbows and shopping bags. Thankfully, the loud group exited on the next floor.

He waited impatiently as the doors closed on the chaos of that family. Swara moved to the elderly lady's side, started chatting idly. Oh, she had plenty of say to others. And she was studiously ignoring his presence in the lift car.

The lift reached her floor. The door slid open, the lady walked out ahead of Swara with a cheerful farewell. Swara's answering smile was a little strained but she moved forward quickly, clutching her keys.

"'Swara." he said quietly from behind her.

She jabbed the key in the lock, furious with herself, with the tears that threatened, with him. She didn't want to hear him call her name. She didn't want to feel anything. Miserable, she gave the knob an angry twist.

"Swara -" he stopped the hand that was turning the knob. "Mujhe tumse bat karni hai."

"Hath chodo Sanskaar,"she tried to shake it away. "mujhe tumse koi bat nahi karni hai."
"Mat karo phir. Sun sakti ho," he said tightly. Despair was causing the control to slip, the leash he barely had on his temper and anguish.

"Nahi sunna hai muje," with a strength born of desperation, she pushed his hand away and threw open the door, walked in. "Mujhe yaha koi naya tamasha nahi chahiye," she said referring to the media circus, tossing her bag away. It fell somewhere near the couch; he flinched.

She stood as she was, not wanting to turn and see him. It hurt too much to look into his eyes, see the hurt and the plea in them along with the anger. How could he do this? How could he make her feel this awful guilt?"Mujhe kuch nahi sunna hai. Please leave, Sanskaar."

Even with her back to him she could feel the waves of emotion buffeting from him. She closed her eyes in defense.

She heard him move in behind her. Startled, she whirled to face him.

"Kya kar rahe ho tum?!"

"Hall me tamasha nahi khada kar raha hu. Lekin Swara," he said determinedly, "Aaj tumhe meri bat sunni hogi." He said it quietly, doing his best to keep the leash on. Temper strained; he slapped it down.

She turned away again; he took her arm and turned her around. "Swara listen-" he tried again, as reasonably as he could. Desperation was burning him up from the inside, and fear. She didn't want to listen. He had to make her stop, listen once, and then...

Fury was the only thing she could afford to feel. "Ab aur kya kahoge Sanskaar?" she shrugged off his hand bad-temperedly, hating the tears that clogged her throat, burning. "abhi kuch bacha hain baat karne ke liye sun ne keliye ..Jo bhi sun na tha, dekhna tha uss din dekh liya ..ab mujhe aur kuch nahi sun na hain , samjhe tum."

"Swara tumne uss din jo dekha, suna wo sirf adha sach hain..." he tried again, the words coming out in a rush. He didn't know how much of a window he was getting as she stood there, fuming. He could also see she was hurting. Couldn't she see him? "Mujhe ek mauka tho do" he pleaded. If he had to get down in his knees, he would...his hands clasped her shoulders gently, an entreaty.

She could see him, but she refused to believe. "Kyu?" she asked, her voice icing over. "Taaki tum aur jhoot bol sako..." pain flashed in his eyes at that, but she was hurting too much to notice. He closed them for a moment as she chose to condemn him instead of listening.

"Aur dhoka de sako?" she went on."main aisa hone nahi dungi" she pushed away both his hands in one jerky movement. She could not allow him to con her feelings again. "Ek baar bharosa karliya aur tumne use thod bhi diya ab aur nahi..aur nahi Mr.Sanskaar Maheswari - "

"Enough Swara!!" it was loud as a gunshot, and as jarring - her body shook with the impact.

To her utter shock, she had her back to the wood of her own door - where he had her pinned, arms and body, caged by his hands...and his eyes.

She wasn't sure what had jarred more. Sanskaar as he was right now? The door that slammed shut behind her?

Hearts pounding, breaths racing, they regarded each other. Swara wary and wide-eyed, Sanskaar taut and strung like a bow string, knowing he held everything he wanted in his arms, but that he was helpless to reach out and take it...

"Swara me manta hu mujse galati huyi hai lekin uski sajaa bhi mil rahi hain mujhe," his eyes burned, intense. She could only stare back, caught in the storm. "Tumne mujhe ek pal main paraya kar diya..." She searched his eyes at that, and she could only see one thing in them: herself. "kuch nahi kaha na tumne," he went on, anxious to finish now that she was listening. "Tum mujhe jaan bhoochke ignore kar rahi thi ..phir bhi main chup raha..paagalon ki tarah tumhare peeche daud raha tha ..phir bhi you didn't give a damn .. ..lekin ab?" He shook her, forgetting himself."Ek baat batao mujhe tumhare liye woh mayine rakhtha jo media main tumne suna aur dekha ,ya ye ki sach kya hain ?..mujhe ehsas hai apni galati ka and I am sorry ..hazar baar maafi mangunga ..lekin mat karo mere saath aisa ..please ..please Swara..."

His hold tightened around her arms unknowingly. She looked into his eyes again...misery and pain burned in them, and every word that he spoke was branded by a plea...even hurt and raging, his eyes pleaded with her. Could she ignore it any more...

Abruptly she was conscious of a stinging in her arms.

His hands... "You are hurting me Sanskaar." She said quietly.

Realization struck, and he drew his hands back swiftly. He looked at them a moment. What had come over him? He was hurting her again...

Blood rushed up to where his hands had held hers; she rubbed the sting away, trying to sort through her own conflicting emotions. She had to resist the urge to comfort him; she needed answers before she could decide...

He looked up at her again. He couldn't read the eyes. She had pulled shutters down...he turned away.

"I'm sorry." He said quietly. "Na chahte hue bhi me tumhe dard hi de raha hu...har bar."

Distressed, she pushed away from the door, moved past him. Maybe a little distance would help her think...She went and stood by the couch, looked out through the window.

There was so much he wanted to say but he couldn't just...he stood there trying to find the right words, hoping she would understand him like always ...and then she spoke up.

"Kya ye NGO ke saath tie up karna publicity ke liye tumhara idea tha?" Her voice was curiously blank. So was her face, but he couldn't see it.

Why wouldn't she turn?

"Haan mera hi tha, but that was a business strategy.. lekin Swara -"

"Right! business strategy," she cut in, "kya ye bhi sach hain ki ye information tumhare hi office se release hua tha."

"Yes" he said with defeated pause. He knew where this was leading to and could he blame her? But all of that was for others...He didn't care a damn what the rest of the world thought about him but this was Swara. She wouldn't, would she...? He hoped against hope.

"Perfect," Her voice, her sweet voice was hard, brittle. This for him?

"All you needed was perfect timing bas," she went on, "and look your mission is accomplished ek shot main tum inn," she paused , "kya kaha tha media ne? anaath bacho ka masiha bangaye ..ab sab kuch saaf haina Mr.Maheswari ? "

"Kya saaf hain ..?" he asked with dread creeping into his voice.

"Wahi jo media waale keh rahe hain ...pehle you never bothered to tell me ki tum koi ek marketing department ke manager nahi...bal ki poore Maheswari group ke ek lauta waaris ho?"

His heritage had never before felt like a curse to him, he had always been proud, felt privileged to have been born there...But now...How could all of it feel so wrong?

She turned to him, anger animating her face all over again. "Chalo woh bhi chod diya lekin kam se kam un chote bacho ko tho spare kar dete apne business plans se..Jo din raat bhaiyya bhaiyya bolke tumhare aage peeche ghoomte rehte the? Wo kya jaane ki Little Flowers aur wo khud tumhare strategy, tumhare business plan ka ek hissa hi the. Itna bada dhoka Sanskaar...Kyu ??"

Her every word was like daggers to his heart, shredding it to pieces.

She believed all that. He took a step backwards, unconsciously in defense of his bleeding heart. He was trying to process what he just heard ..She thought ... God. She thought that he could do that? She believed that of him?!

"Swara" his voice cracked as he took her name, " kya tumhe lagta hain ki in bacho ke liye mere pyaar, Little Flowers, humari dosti, sab bas dikhava hain?"

She didn't know what to say. Her heart was screaming out that this was the real Sanskaar...compassionate, sensitive, human...But her mind told her otherwise. Cold, calculative businessman.

His voice rang again.."Kya tumhe sach main lagta hain ki maine ye sab publicity ke liye kiya?? ...bolo Swara..."

She stood there, torn between mind and heart. The mind refused to believe, wary of being hurt again, of being conned again. The heart shouted something else. Her thoughts clung stubbornly to the facts - the tie up, orphanage under wraps, the big reveal...And her heart reeled in the face of this Sanksaar standing in front of her, stunned and shattered, and hurting...So much pain...

On a gasp she turned, in an effort to try and avoid his gaze which was looking at her with hope ..a hope which shook her from inside ..like he wanted to hear something which would save him from breaking further . His eyes always gave his feelings away, and once she had believed she could read them well but now... she didn't know what to believe anymore.

Sanskaar stood shocked and frozen,trying to comprehend. If she didn't answer that meant only one thing: she believed he was capable of doing all this, she believed his love for those children and his friendship with her was false pretense.

Did he just feel something breaking inside him? He squeezed his eyes shut, but the hope he had held in his eyes trickled down as tears. Silently he wiped them away.

She wanted to answer him...She wanted the answer herself. But more, Swara felt the guilt clawing at her, the knowledge that she was wrong in persecuting him so, warring with her own sense of self-preservation. Answers...he was waiting. She closed her eyes letting her heart take the lead this time .All his moments with her and the children, with Angel, every small, trivial thing they had shared and experienced together, his joy in Angel's delighted laughter when he tossed her up and caught her, the sense of fulfilment she felt from him when he was around the children, the simple pleasure of a coffee and smile, Sanskaar as he always was with the children, relaxed and laid back with them hanging onto his every word as he narrated a story, sitting on the church steps... Sanskaar that evening he spent goofing around with the children and that ridiculously expensive camera, he had let them play with it... Sanskaar as he was that night at the hospital, Sanskaar as he waited for her that night by the bench... everything that she remembered was warm and true...Behind her closed lids, it ran in a montage of genuineness and affection. She had her answer. May be she knew it all along but was too hurt to see it...

"Sanskaar," she turned back but he was gone by then. She heard the quiet click of the door, and it felt strangely anticlimactic.

He was gone... after waiting for her for an eternity, when she had the answer, he was gone...

What had she done??!

She ran to the door, wrenching it open. Heard the motor of the lift whirring on its downward journey..."Sanskaar..." she called out. Of course he couldn't hear her...leaving the door wide open, she ran down the stairs, taking them two at a time. He couldn't go like that...she had to tell him...

She ran down and out into the open, only to hear the whine of his car's engine. The tires squealed in protest as he swung out the compound gates and drove away, and Swara was left standing there, under the eaves of the E' wing, staring at the cloud of dust in his wake...what had she done?

She felt like a part of her had been wrenched away, she felt bereft.

"Sanskaar..." she said softly, knowing he wouldn't hear her.

What had she done...

-----------+------------

He hadn't thought where he was going, simply driven on and on. Until the car crested the hill and the road stopped...

Now where would he go...?

He couldn't go home...there was someone who loved him there. He couldn't take all this home to her... and he couldn't go to the one place other than home where he had found peace of mind. There were too many memories of someone he - someone he cared about. Cared too much, he told himself as he dropped his head on the steering wheel wearily.

Even with his eyes closed, the memories assaulted him. There were too many smiles, shared laughter, simple joys of everyday life...and there were accusations and mistrust and hurt and pain.

His lungs hurt with the effort. Even this car...she had sat next to him in this very seat countless times, smiling, talking about Little Flowers, life, about making a difference. Now when he did do something to make one, it was all so horribly twisted and...she wasn't there anymore. It was the biggest irony of his life...And it was suffocating...the silence, the memories...

He flipped the lock and stumbled out, needing air.

He only had to look up at the evening sun to remember... they had sat watching so many suns set, on the church steps, on that stone bench, and this hilltop on that picnic with the her and the children...he heard their laughter carried to him on a sudden breeze, his and hers. Then the wind died, and everything was cold and empty and silent.

Tired, he leaned against the door and watched another day end. He had no defense against the memories. There were no good or bad ones today...his heart bled a little with every single one of them, leaching out into the evening sky in hues of red...

-----------+------------

Misery was their constant companion thereafter. Hers, for having insulted his friendship, and wounding him so deeply. And his, for not being trusted enough. There was no comfort in familiar routines, no respite in familiar places. Everything reminded him of her...

And everything reminded her of him. An Eon outside the gift shop, the sight of a coffee shop, even a coffee mug, stone benches, the setting sun. The children who asked for him every time she went there. Every time she held Angel in her arms she remembered...she cuddled the tiny form closer, for the warmth and love the child exuded. But the baby's affection was not salve enough for the sense of loss, or the weight of guilt; her cheerful gibberish drove Swara to inexplicable tears. With some effort, she held them back. Handing Angel back to Sister Nancy, she walked out. Maybe if she went home...

He never answered any of her calls since that day he had come in to talk to her. Not one. Didn't text. He never came to the college, the gift shop, even Little Flowers when she went there. It seemed fate was punishing her as well as he was. Not even once did she run into him in so many days...his absence from Little Flowers made her feel doubly guilty. He loved those children...and he was staying away from them because of her.

As for herself...She missed him terribly... but she knew she deserved it, she knew that as she sat on that stone bench alone, staring unseeingly at the children in the playground of her apartment complex. She could not expect anything else, the way she had treated him. How careless could we be with the feelings of someone we cared about, cared for...? And did she even deserve a friendship of that sort when she couldn't value it... Trusting those media vultures over him...How could she ??

How could she?? Every time the thought came into his mind he experienced the same mind numbing pain, the weight of her accusations. He knew he wasn't right to have kept those things from her, but that she could think he was capable of doing those things...His affection, trust, friendship, everything was a lie to her?! Wasn't that a betrayal of sorts in itself? How could she? Anger crept over the hurt.

He was miserable. And there were no answers anywhere he looked...there was no comfort even in a pretty sight anymore. Though the sky was clear and midnight blue, and there was a full moon, he felt the moonlight threw everything into stark relief...shadows, silhouettes. Shortcomings. Lies. Mistrust...

Every time her name flashed on the phone's screen, every time a message came from her asking him to take her call, or call her back, or - he stopped. However much he wanted to hear her voice, he didn't think he could take any more of it. One more accusation from her and he would be broken ...beyond repair. The phone rang again. In despair as much as anger, he tossed it onto the couch and went back in.

He didn't answer. Yet again. Well, it was too much to hope. She hugged herself, clutching the phone in one hand. She looked to the sky for guidance, but it seemed even though heavens had conspired against her...the night sky was devoid of stars, blank. Even the moon glow seemed harsh and punishing. She had no answers here even in this favored spot of her little terrace...

A tear spilled over, then another. Stubbornly she swiped them away. She couldn't let this go on forever...she had to do something. She had to fix it. She was going to fix it, whatever it took, wherever she had to go. Resolutely, she went in to sleep.---------------------------------------------------

Swara stepped inside the corporate offices of Maheswari group with slight apprehension. May be she shouldn't have dropped in unannounced... what if he got upset, or furious, or - how would he react? Should she step back?

Nahi Swara...an inside voice chided her - Tujhe Sanskaar ko manana hi hoga, chahe kuch bhi karna pade ...she couldn't lose him. His friendship was too precious for her and so was he... He didn't give up on their friendship until she - her heart thudded painfully as she remembered how harsh she had been with him. How could she have been so heartless...She had accused him of everything he wasn't, and the words she had used... she saw him in her mind's eye as he stood there, pale and drained and hurting...He had pleaded with her to listen and she had - If the memory was as painful to her, what had she put him through... now she had to make amends. And however bitter the pill of apology was, even bitter was the pain of loss. She couldn't lose him.

Pushing aside all doubts she approached the receptionist.

"Excuse me."

"Yes , ..how can I help you?"

"I need to see..Sanskaar ..I mean Mr. Sanskaar maheswari."

"Appointment haina apke paas?" the receptionist asked briskly.

Swara shook her head no.

"I'm Sorry ma'm..Sir se milne ke liye log hafto pehle appointment lete hain ..aur iss waqt sir important meeting main honge." She explained in that maddeningly impersonal voice. "I can't help you ."

And he had been so easily accessible to her just like that, just a phone call away, and she had taken him for granted! How easily she had jumped to the conclusion that he was an opportunist..Guilt weighed her heart down, guilt and remorse.

"Dekhiye, mera unse milna bahot zarroti hai. Can you please check with him? Unse kahiye Swara ayi hi, he knows me."

How strange the words sounded to her own ears. Until a few days ago she had acted like he was a stranger to her and now she was claiming to know him...his words rang in her ears.

" Ek pal main paraya kar diya tumne mujhe ."

The receptionist didn't look like she was convinced. Swara felt she probably got this line from every other girl who visited and asked for Sanskaar. She drew a deep breath, tried again. "Please check if he is free, nahi tho me meeting khatm hone tak wait karti hu. Please can you call and check?"

The receptionist considered her for a minute. Well, there was no harm in trying. She placed the call, conveyed the message and heard the other end, carefully nodding her head. She placed the receiver down in its cradle and said, "Aap jaa sakte hain, 5thfloor - B wing ."

For a second Swara felt elated. He allowed her in...he would meet her...she waited while the visitor's pass was being made. It felt like ages, those few minutes of waiting. She made her way to the 5th Floor. Little did she know the call had been answered by Kunal.

Kunal usually wouldn't have accommodated such requests but the minute he heard Swara's name he knew his boss would have wanted to meet her. He had met her a few times, once on a Sunday mass where his boss introduced her to him and he knew they shared a bond with Little Flowers. Swara was important, so she was permitted in.

While swara made her way towards lift, Sanskaar stepped out of his cabin with his laptop, went over his mental list. Kunal was to get him some prints and - Damn! How could he forget that file? It was important for his next meeting with the new client...He made a quick calculation looking at his watch.He could go home and pick it up and head straight to the meeting. He pulled his phone out as he walked to the elevator.

"Hey Sanskaar," came Veronica's voice. "I wanted you to take at look at these, the press release and plan of action for the fundraiser event - "

"Veronica, I'm stepping out for an important meet ..Can we look at this later?"

"Sure, I will place these in your cabin." She waved the sheaf of papers at him, smiling.

Sanskaar nodded, too preoccupied to even notice. He dialed Kunal as he hurried in to the open elevator car. The minute the door closed on him, the other elevator car on the same floor opened..and Swara stepped out.

She was pointed in a southerly direction by one guy, and then straight to a walled cabin to the right. It was paneled wood and glass, designed such that the occupant could see that rest of the floor clearly, and not the other way around. Someone was there... she caught a flurry of deep blue. Sanskaar? She hadn't seen him in power suits in so long... apprehension crept back in, but she kept going, hoping she hadn't caught him in a bad moment or between meetings or some such thing.

She asked for directions again just to be sure. Another busy body pointed her in the right direction, remarked he might be in there as he had just wrapped up a meeting. It struck her again that he was an extremely busy businessman, with a serious post of his own, and she had taken him for granted so... Steeling herself, she stepped up and knocked.

"Come in," a female voice answered.

But this was the right cabin, wasn't it? The plaque outside said SANSKAAR MAHESWARI. Who was this woman inside? Frowning, she opened the door.

The scent of Chanel hit her first. Disappointment was second.

The frost hit next. There was a woman at his desk, completely at home, shuffling papers on the desk with a rather proprietary look on her face. Cool disdain and mild interest were the only things on the exquisite face.

"Yes?" Veronica took her measure in a second, discarded. Young, plain clothes, college bag. Probably some donation seeker or some such thing for social work. Collegiates did that.

"I'm looking for Sanskaar," Swara explained, wondering who this woman was. Exquisite, cool as ice. And not human, her instincts told her. The predator vibes were too strong.

"Sanskaar?" delicately penciled eyebrows went up, part scorn, part interest. Calling him on first-name basis, that sounded too personal and she found she didn't care for it much.

"Indeed," Veronica went behind the desk to get her phone. "And who are you?" The girl was vaguely familiar.

Swara bristled at the tone. "I'm his friend." She tossed back, matching Veronica's hauteur in tone. Somehow she felt the need to defend herself from this creature. And what was she doing in Sanskaar's cabin? He let women like this hover around?

"Swara ji aap yaha - "

Both women turned to see Kunal rushing in. "Sir tho abhi nikal gaye just now."

"Excuse me", Veronica started out. She wouldn't want to waste her time on some social worker or donation seeker...but did Kunal just say "ji" to this PYT...Jeez. She shrugged it away as one of the lesser beings of this floor scurried over with a set of papers for her to sign.

Swara turned to Kunal ,"But phone- " disappointment was too small a word for what she felt at the moment. He had allowed her in and then left like that?!

"Maine liya tha muje laga sir yahi honge kuch prints ke liye kaha the unhone tho - "

"Oh.". Her face fell, and it didn't go unnoticed by Kunal

"Kuch urgent tha?" he asked gently.

She nodded. " Kaha Gaye ..I mean"

" Ghar..aur - "

"Thanks, Kunal. Bye." She dashed off at that, leaving him to stare after her.

"Unki tho dinner meeting bhi hai aj." Kunal said to himself.

Having signed the papers and dismissed the underling, Veronica turned to Kunal. "Who was that?"

The tone demanded an answer. "Sir ki friend hai." He said shortly and went back to his desk. He didn't like this female.

"Hm." Veronica walked away, mulling over this new bit of information. Friend to Sanskaar huh. Swara. Of course she looked familiar, this was the girl from the paper. Now she had a name to go with the face and profile. She could only get so much from that reporter last time, that the girl was a social worker who worked freelance. A name was more ammo...

---------------------------------------------------------

It hadn't been difficult for swara to locate Mansion of Maheswari's. She steeped out car and took speed steps towards entrance. ..She didn't want to miss him ...not this time

Maheswari Mansion ..

"Memsaab ,woh chote saab se milne koi aaya hain," Ramu kaka informed Annapurna who was as in the kitchen looking after dinner arrangements.

"Yaha ? Teek hain tum chalo main aati hoon."

Annapurna stepped out of the kitchen wondering who would it be, as Sanskaar's friends usually didn't drop in unless it was planned.

Then she saw her...standing in huge hall of MM looking around ..like she was searching for some one. Dressed in a simple top and long flowing skirt with bag which looked like - a college bag. As she walked closer the familiarity of the face struck her.

"Namaste aunty," Swara greeted her.

"Namste beta," Annapurna greeted her back. Had she meet her before? Wasn't this the girl from the news paper, Sanskaar's friend...she must be.

"Aunty main Swara, Sanskaar ki ...dost hoon. Kya woh ghar par hain?" she asked, looking around. Was he upstairs? Would he come down now and - what would she say? How would she begin...

"Nahi beta. bas kuch dher pehle nikal gaya ." she answered.

"Oh ," she looked back at Annapurna, then back at the stairs.

Annapurna noticed how her face fell, the hope that turned into disappointment; her eyes gave it all away just like her son, and the girl was quick to cover it up just like he did.

"Tho phir main nikal ti hoon thanks aunty," Swara started to leave before Annapurna stopped her.

"Ruko beta," Annapurna glided forward, all warmth and smiles. "Sanskaar ke dost ho, aise kaise jaoge," she said with a hand on her arm. "chai tho peeke jaavo ..tum chai peeti hona ya kuch aur ..?"

"Nai aunty wo main - "

"Bilkul nahi, tum chahti ho ki Sanskaar aake mujh se kahe ki aapne mere dost ka khayal nahi rakha..bolo?"

Swara smiled nodding her head no...just like Sanskaar, his mom was such a warm and comfortable person. Even in this imposing house, his mother wasn't intimidating when she could have been so easily- she was a woman with immense presence. And so caring...she felt she understood Sanskaar a tiny bit more. Bilkul apni mom par gaya hain, she thought as she sat down beside Annapurna.

They talked over tea, about where she lived, her college, her work at Little Flowers, the children and..Sanskaar. Annapurna noticed the warmth in Swara's eyes and the softness in her tone when she took his name, even a trace of wistfulness. She had so much to say about how he single-handedly brought the children's home to life... Annapurna beamed when Swara told her she had raised a wonderful human being.

She also noted how the girl talked a lot. Unlike her son, she thought as she smiled to herself, who was a man of few words.

She felt an unknown affection towards this girl, simple and charming as she was, and the impression of strength that came through. Her son was right, in that she was genuine. She cared about those children, and about Sanskaar. Annapurna also felt she detected the streak of no-nonsense along with the disarming sweetness. Maybe that answered her question of why Sanskaar was drawn towards this girl, this combination of strength and sensitiveness.

"Teek hain aunty..main niklati hoon," Swara set her cup down and reached for her bag. "And thanks for the tea," she smiled as she got up from her place. "chai achi bani thi .. adrak wali."

Annapurna smiled back. "Thank you beta."

As she started to leave Swara turned back and said a bit hesitantly , "agar Sanskaar aaya tho ..aap please usse - "

"Main batadungi," she nodded.

She waited a minute, till Swara reached the gate and turned to wave bye, returned both. Then went in, thinking about her son's...friend.

--------------------------------------------------

Sanskaar returned home late, tired and drained. Blessedly blank. It took a lot of finessing over fine print and a great deal of charm over dinner for closing the deal with the new client...True he had no stomach for either, faking the smiles or pretending to eat, but at least the effort to maintain the charades kept his mind occupied for the day and empty at the end of it. He liked keeping himself busy these days...Even one free minute of brain space and she would make way into heart and mind. It was the eyes that haunted him most...eyes that smiled at him, smiled for him, eyes that brimmed with tears because of him...eyes that condemned him... Heignored the ache as it started dully, tamping it down underneath the businessman's shell, and started a mental list of things to do for the next day, just like he had been doing for the past few days.

Wary, he trudged up the stairs, wishing he could sleep dreamlessly.

Annapurna saw him going up the stairs and into his room. The clocked ticked 11.00.

These days he seemed so busy,he left early in themornings and returned late in the night. She hardly got a few moments with him these days... the boy worked too hard.

"Sanskaar" Annapurna walked in.

"Hi ma, Aap soye nahi ab tak ," he gave her a quick hug and back to the wardrobe to get his night clothes.

"Kaam zyada hain kya aaj kal?" Annapurna asked mildly.

He paused in the act of pulling out clothes - it was more than an idle query. She was concerned and he sensed it. Not wanting her to see through him this time, he went around the room keeping his things in their respective places. "Haan mom, kuch naye deals unke meetings...arey haan bhool gaya kuch mails bhi bhjene hain. Aur khaana kha liya maine bataya tha na aapko dinner meeting thi ek."

"Lekin Sanskaar.."

"Maa bahut tired hoon...main change karke sojaavu ...please."

So he didn't want to share whatever was bothering him. She sighed. He would when he wanted to.

He kissed her good night, hugged her for a second longer. She patted his back, understanding. "Jaldi so jana, thak gaye ho na." she murmured as she turned to go.

At the door she turned back remembering ..

"Acha Sanskaar, woh tumhari dost aayi tumse milne."

"Dost?" he frowned as he placed the phone on the charging dock. Which friend?

"Haan, Swara."

Just her name was enough...He went absolutely still, his face blank for a minute. Lockdown was the best defence against heartburn, which he had subconsciously deduced.

She was here? To meet him? Everything rushed back to him all at once, every one of those words that sliced him to ribbons...It felt like a thousand years ago...And it felt like a moment ago. Every cut still bled, and every breath raw.

"Sanskaar?" Annapurna looked at him, concerned. Something was definitely wrong. She remembered how he went on and on about her few days back and now... "Beta tum thik ho?"

His mother's voice broke into the trance; he moved forward, retrieved his pajamas from the chair where he had laid them. "Thik hain mom, main dekh lunga...Goodnight," he gave a half hearted smile and rushed into the wash room. She felt he was running away from her, and himself. Or from the girl, Swara?

She remembered the girl was anxious to see him when she had dropped in. A fight? She hoped not. He was hurt by it, whatever it was. She left wondering if the media fiasco had anything to do with this turn of events.

---------------

Next day

Sanskaar was between meetings when his phone rang.

A glance at the readout froze him - it was from Little Flowers. Swara? He hadn't answered any of her calls so maybe she - the thought of her was replaced just as quickly by worry for the children. What if Angel- he pressed accept instantly.

"Hello?"

"Hello Sanskaar."

The voice was calm, clear and pleasant.

He let out the breath he was holding. It was Father Ben, and he didn't sound like anyone was in trouble. The kids were fine.

"Yes, Father."

"Busy tho nahi ho na?" Father Ben enquired.

"Oh, no, I'm just between meetings. Lunch time hai," he reassured. "Aap bataiye."

"Apke Legal advisors ka phone tha, about the Trust you are setting up."

"Oh."

"Unhone papers draw up kiye hai, and they want all trustees together for completing the formalities."

Sanskaar sat back in the chair, closed his eyes. "Just a minute, Father."

They had two more patrons now, thanks to the interest generated in the media after that blitz - the only good thing to come out of that disastrous day. Sanskaar and these two other businessmen were to be trustees of the Little Flowers Foundation. There was the matter of trust funds, setting up an office - he ran a hand through his hair. He was exhausted - but it had to be done.

"Okay, Father," he said at length, sitting up straight, "Kab ana hai?" he reached for his calendar.

Father Ben gave him the date and time. He signed off after wishing Father Ben.

He had to go to Little Flowers for the formalities, and had to meet the trustees formally. He had avoided Little Flowers for the past few days, ever since - he tried not to think of it. Things needed to be done, he'd do them.

Kunal poked his head in, signaling the onset of the next meeting.

With a weary sigh, he got up and went for the next meeting. His life seemed to run on them these days ...

--------------------------------------------------------------

On a Friday evening a week later, Sanskaar walked down the steps of Little Flowers Church, pensive. He was coming down the steps from the sacristy, where he had left the other trustees with Father Benedict. The angle gave him a different perspective on the impressive front doors of the chapel, which were wide open as they always were. They would be, he mused. Shelter, refuge. God gave both. And forgiveness. He didn't want to feel like he was deserting them, but after Swara, he could not...He drew in a deep breath. He had done everything he could for the children of Little Flowers. The trust fund had been set up, so was the foundation. The new trustees were businessmen like him, and renowned philanthropists...He felt the future of Little Flowers was secure. He could do this much for them, for all the happiness the children had given him... He sighed, letting go of one weight from his heart.

Sanskaar came down the last step, then turned to look at the Chapel, a farewell gesture.

Swara sat in the front pew, praying silently. She had not known any other way. He must have known she had been there, to his workplace, his home... but he hadn't acknowledged even. So she was not to have his forgiveness. But for his sake, she wanted him to have that apology... If she couldn't apologize to him in person, she would do so in front of God. It would reach him somehow, was all she thought. That he would have peace and happiness. That he would never have that look of acute pain in his eyes ever in his life, that he would never ever be doubted by anyone for his heart that was good and true. That he would know she knew...

Sanskaar stood there, taking one last survey of the grounds, the children's home and the church. They were good memories...why did it have to hurt so much?

He glanced towards the ground, remembering that first meeting. How she had bowled him over...he smiled, a bittersweet smile. and that crazy match for stakes in the ground, and celebrating afterwards...that one moment when they held each other, more precious than any victory...he squeezed his eyes tight against the memory. It was more than bittersweet, it was a singeing of the heart.

Sanskaar...

He opened his eyes at sound of his name which sounded like a very faint echo ..Did he just hear her calling him?

He looked around. The grounds were empty... there was no one in sight, nobody coming down from the sacristy, or the chapel.

It was just him, standing there alone. Had he imagined that? But it felt like- he found himself walking back up the steps, straight up to the front entrance of the church. Something told him he needed to go back in, if only for the last time. His heart beat faster with each step he took, as if there was someone waiting up there for him. No one, he told himself. Least of all Swara. But that felt and sounded like her... Imagination playing tricks on him...sighing, he took the last few steps resignedly. He would just go in, just for a moment. Maybe pray at the altar one last time, and then go home...

He stopped at the entrance, shocked. There was someone in there... in the front pew. "Swara." It came out with the next breath he took, unknowingly slipped through his lips, a soft murmur.

Was he slowly going mad? Was he imagining her everywhere? Her voice, her form...God.

The girl in the front pew turned, as if she heard him. For a moment, time froze. He froze. It was her. His eyes were not playing tricks on him. It was her.

His heart beating painfully now, he turned to leave. It still hurt. It would hurt forever, he felt as he started out the door.

"Sanskaar..."

He stopped at the wide double doors, turned to look.

She took a step closer.

Against the backdrop of the setting sun, he was a dark silhouette that she couldn't see clearly.

A little worried, wanting to make sure it was indeed him, she hastened down the pews.

Stopped halfway down the aisle. it was him. He was not smiling, he wasn't walking to her, but it was him.

Sheer relief made her smile.

He didn't reciprocate, and hers faded as everything came back to her in a flash. He wouldn't, she knew. She had hurt him so...

"I'm sorry," she said slowly, holding her ears.

Refusing to be charmed or soothed, he turned to go.

God, he couldn't go like this! "Sanskaar please..." she called out again. "mat jao..."

There was something in that soft plea...he couldn't ignore it, or her.

He turned again.

His stance gave nothing away. Would he stay and listen? Would he go? It hurt that she couldn't read those eyes, which were open to her always... he had pulled down shutters today.

"Please Meri baat sun lo.," she said softly. "ab bas ek bar meri sun lo aur phir - aur phir tum ja sakte ho."

He thought he detected a hitch in stride there, but his cuts were still raw.

"Please?" she swallowed pride and tried again.

At that softly murmured plea, he sighed and walked back in. Remembering he himself had wronged her in some ways, he thawed a little. But only a little, as he went and sat in the pew in front of her.

She came and stood by him; he had chosen the end of that bench.

When she continued standing, he shifted to allow her space to sit, and sat quietly. Had she forgiven him? But that shouldn't be enough, didn't she have to understand as well, that he wouldn't - He looked up at the altar, wondering if the gods would call him a liar. He knew he wanted everything back the way things were, and he would take her back anyway for that, whether she forgave or understood.

She sat by him; still not a word.

Taking a chance, she placed her hand over his. "Sanskaar?"

Sighing, he turned to her. "Actually meri bat khatam nai hui thi. Main bolu?"

She nodded, though she was afraid. What would he say now? That they were through? Could she blame him for not wanting to continue a relationship where there was a lack of trust...she couldn't, but was afraid still...

"Swara mujhe..." he began slowly, carefully, "tumhe bata dena chahiye tha, tumhe aise pata nai chalna chahiye tha, bahar se kisi aur se," he looked down at her hand atop his, then back at her. "aur me manta hu ki wo bhi ek tarah ka dhoka hai tumhe na batake-"

She stopped the rest with her hand on his mouth. "Please aisa mat bolo tum," she said softly and in earnest. "Gusse me pata nai kitna kuch bol diya tumhe maine uss din..." remorse made her look down; like him, she focused on their hands as they lay on the bench, hers over his. "Please mujhe maaf kar do?"

She met his gaze now; he deserved a straight apology.

"Swara?" he said in shock. Her voice was thick with unshed tears, which had filled those big doe eyes.

No tears, she had promised herself earlier. So she turned away for a moment, making a valiant effort to hold them in.

"Please tum rona mat ab," he said, distraught.

She sniffled once, reined it in.

"Sirf gussa tha tho...I hurt you," he said slowly. "I made you cry," he spoke to himself then, quietly. It shocked him still, tears in her eyes, where always there had been only smiles, that he had caused them...

"Nahi Sanskaar. Tumhari galati nai hai. Muje vaise react nai karna chahiye tha."

He shook his head no. "Agar maine tumhe bata diya hota pehle tho...tumhe utna bura nahi lagta na. Mera irada tumhara dil dukhane ka nahi tha Swara I swear -"

"Me janti hu," she cut in again. "Me janti hu tumhe," she said softly. "Tumhe kuch explain karne ki zarurat nahi hai," she smiled, as much in apology as for comfort. They could smile at each other again, no doubts and anger between. Those clouds had rained over. She felt like a weight had lifted from her mind.

Incredibly moved, he turned his hand over so he could take hers in both of his. Only his mother understood him this way... and now Swara. He couldn't find the words to tell her how it made him feel, that she understood, and accepted. What it meant to him...he looked up, and all of what he felt was there in his eyes for her to see...

His eyes... She could read them, they were open to her again.

Silence hummed for one eternal moment as she heard all of what he hadn't spoken aloud... He was so quick to forgive her. She sniffled again. Tears wouldn't do now, she thought as she looked down at their joined hands.

He withdrew his hands slowly. She looked up, startled. What happened now?

He smiled as he pulled out something from his pocket, offered it to her.

His handkerchief.

She gave a weak laugh at that. "Thanks," she wiped away the tear that had spilled over, picked up where they left a moment ago. "And taklif tho maine bhi di thi tumhe..."

He nodded. "Thoda sa," he conceded with another smile, his idea of an olive branch.

The things she had said and thought about him..."I'm sorry," she murmured again. The tears were threatening to spill over.

He decided they both had enough, say straight. "Ye acha hai. Khud rules banao Aur phir bhool bhi jao." he said lightly.

She frowned in confusion. What -

"Aap hi ne kaha tha madam ki dosti me - "

" - No sorry no thank you." she finished, remembering suddenly, smiling a little.

"Apne hi rules kitni bar thodogi tum," he teased, secretly relieved they were past it all. He had her back.

She laughed again as she swiped at the rogue tears.

"Acha ab," he took her hand in both of his again. "ek chiz aur."

"Bolo," she sighed, relieved they could put it all behind them. He held her hand firmly in hers. And it was an odd feeling...she felt...cherished, and at the same time she felt like she'd found something she had lost. Him, she realised, staggered by the realisation. It was him.

"tumse ek promise karni hai." He said solemnly. She looked up at that, surprised.

"aaj se, nahi abhi se," he corrected, "tumse koi secrets nai rakhunga," he sealed it with a smile. "I promise."

"Sanskaar..." She couldn't return the promise, but she could honor and cherish his. unable to find the words to tell him, she covered their joined hands with hers, hoping he understood.

He thought he did.

He smiled at her, pure relief, pure joy as they sat there holding hands under God's watchful eye...

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

**"To wish was to hope, and to hope was to expect" Quote at beginning - -,