Sameer was unaware of Naina's presence in the room.

Expecting Mohan to be there, he called out angrily, 'Mohan, dekh toh yeh shirt kahan atak gayi hai. Sleeve khinch rahi hai. Peeche se theek kar. Fir button laga de. Main ungli pe aur pressure nahi daalna chahta.'

When he did not hear Mohan's footsteps, his gaze lifted, 'Sunn nahi raha...'

The words died in his mouth. Quickly, he stepped behind the door, and spat out, 'Tum kya kar rahi ho yahan? Maine Mohan ko bulaya tha.' Naina was standing with her back to him was evidence enough that she had already seen him in this state.

'Mo...Mohan kitchen mein hai.' Discomfort was dripping through her voice.

'Toh tum aa gayi?' His vexation was ready to bubble over, 'Mohan ki jagah tumhe kaam pe rakha hai kya? Usey bulaya tha kyonki uska kaam tha mere kapde...' He fell silent for a moment, then mumbled in a much lower voice, '...Mohan ki help chahiye mujhe. Tum jao.'

She did not want to start a conversation. Thus, without waiting another second, she rushed to the door, reminding herself to be extra careful from now on. Never again would she let herself get into such embarrassing situation.

'Ruko.'

Sameer's stern voice put a brake, both on her feet and her thoughts.

What did he want now!

Sameer cleared his throat, before speaking hesitantly, 'Uh Naina... actually... mummy... aur baaki sabko odd lagega agar... agar main ab bhi Mohan ko...' He shut his eyes, cursing himself to have been in that stupid accident, because of which he needed help now, 'Tum... tum samajh rahi ho na? Unke liye... I mean... as a wife, tumhe yeh sab karne se problem nahi honi chahiye.'

She gasped, 'As a wife? Are you... Are you out of your mind? Main... main kaise...'

Sameer instantly cut her to clarify, 'No no. Mera matlab mujhe help karne ke liye.'

Her feet stayed glued to the floor. How could she provide the kind of help he was asking... he was standing there in nothing more than a towel. Helping him with his clothes would mean going close to him, looking at him in this state...

Naina squeezed her eyes shut, frantic, 'No way. Main yeh nahi kar sakti. Tum... tum soch bhi kaise sakte ho.'

Sameer let out an angry grunt, 'Tumhe kya lagta hai mujhe koi interest hai tumhe apne kareeb lane mein? Lekin is waqt mere paas koi option hai kya? Warna mujhe shouk nahi hai kisi se help lene ka... kapde pehenne ke liye. Agar finger ka pain nahi hota toh main pagal hun jo is kaam ke liye Mohan ko awaaz deta.'

Naina slowly opened her eyes. He was right. He was unable to perform such basic functions because of the accident... for which she held herself responsible in some way. And he was also right when he said that it would be odd if she went back and asked Mohan to come and help him for this. His family could get suspicious. They both were supposed to be lovers, not strangers... as far as everyone was concerned.

His irritated voice startled her, 'Kitni der tak aise khada rahun? Jab tak thand se fever na ho jaaye? Agar tumhara plan mujhe aise maarne ka hai toh successful nahi hoga. Ek fever se main marne wala nahi hun. Samjhi?'

Taking a steadying breath, she replied, 'Pata hai. Tum jaise thick skinned insaan ka fever kuch nahi bigaad sakta. Uske liye better planning karungi. After all, planning karna toh mujhe hamesha se aata hai. Haina?'

Before he could dish out some more sharp retorts, she took a few careful steps backwards, without turning, and extended her hand behind, 'Anyway, apni shirt do. Main theek karke deti hun.'

Perplexed, he looked down at the shirt, then at her hand, 'Shirt theek hi hai. Par mere back pe atak rahi hai. Woh check karna hai.'

'Tumhe help chahiye ya nahi?' She hissed, 'Do as I say.'

Grumbling to himself, Sameer took off the shirt and offered, still hiding behind the screen. Their hands were still more than a feet apart.

He snapped, 'Mere haath lambe hokar door tak nahi pohonch sakte. Thoda peeche aao.'

Naina took two calculated steps back. When she did not feel anything even after waving her hand in air, she commented sarcastically, 'Haath lambe nahi kar sakte lekin pairon se chal toh sakte ho na. Shirt mere haath mein do.'

Reluctantly, he stepped out, eyeing her with alert, 'Tum mudna nahi. Main... main aa raha hun.'

As if.

Her mind voice brought a twisted smile to her face. Did he actually think she was interested? Not in thousand years.

The moment fabric touched her fingers, she grabbed it and pulled. The shirt, as expected, was fine. She noticed a wet patch near the shoulder. The fabric might have got stuck because he did not wipe himself properly.

Holding the shirt straight by edge of collars, she commanded, 'Main yeh shirt pakad ke turn karungi. Meri aankhen band hain. Tum khud aake apne haath dhyan se sleeves mein daalo. Okay?'

Sameer frowned, 'Tumne aankhen khol li toh?'

Her patience was waning now, 'Listen Sameer Maheshwari, main apni aankhon ko torture nahi karna chahti. Tumhe aise dekhna toh dur, mera bas chale toh iss room mein bhi na aaun. Lekin abhi hum dono jis situation mein hain, ya toh tum woh karo jo main bol rahi hun ya fir khud pehen lo, I'm going.'

'Okay okay.' He submitted eagerly, 'Main aa gaya. Tum turn kar sakti ho.'

Slowly, Naina turned around to face him, her eyes shut hard. Raising her hands, she held the shirt up. Sameer stepped closer, and slipped his arms in it. Only when his hands hovered dangerously close to Naina's waist did it occur to him that he was supposed to wear it the other way.

'Ek minute.' He panicked, 'Kuch... kuch galat ho gaya. Tum aankhen mat kholna.'

Naina was about to say the same, that probably he had worn it the wrong way. Because she felt his breath hit her face. He had come too close for comfort. Before she could protest, he moved away. This time, he placed his arms the right way, and the shirt easily glided up his shoulders. The moment she felt the weight on her wrists, Naina let go and turned again.

Letting out a breath she wasn't even aware she was holding, she said, 'Ho gaya? Ab main jaa rahi hun.'

'Lekin buttons?' The words were out of Sameer's mouth before he could think.

Her steps halted, surprise ringing in her voice, 'Button bhi nahi laga sakte tum?'

'Tumse achha toh Mohan hai. Kaash tumhari jagah woh yahan hota toh ab tak main ready hoke neeche pohonch gaya hota. Pet mein chuhe daud rahe hain lekin tumhe yahan police wale ki tarah enquiry karni zaruri hai.' He wasn't lying when he said that... he actually missed Mohan, who complied to whatever he said, without a single question.

She smiled with sarcasm, 'For once, we think alike. Main bhi yahi soch rahi thi ki kaash yahan Mohan hota...'

'Meri jagah?' His eyes rounded in shock, 'Mohan ko aise...'

'Shut up Sameer.' Naina growled before he could utter more nonsense, aghast at his disabled thinking, 'Kuch bhi bakwas karte ho. Meri jagah Mohan hota, tumhari jagah nahi. Idiot.'

'Oh!' He was embarrassed, 'Achha theek hai, tension mein hun isliye samajhne mein thoda idhar udhar ho gaya. Ab tum help toh kar do. Agar aise he neeche gaya toh sab mujhe hi nahi tumhe bhi tease karenge.'

Naina controlled herself. The working of Sameer's brain cells wasn't normal from the beginning, she had seen. No point trying to tell him how absurd he was.

Giving in to the need of the hour, she shut her eyes again and turned to face him, 'Guide me. First button pe mere haath rakho.'

He held her wrists, and pulled her gently towards himself, till she was just inches apart. Cautiously, he directed her fingers to the button second from top. Naina was even more mindful than him. She barely touched the edge of the shirt and pushed the button through the buttonhole. Keeping her hold on the lapel, she traced the edge to get to the next, then others, till his buttons were done. All the while, her eyes remained shut.

Sameer, however, couldn't help but notice how nice her henna painted hands looked against his shirt. Her fingers did not touch him even once, yet a strange flutter rocked his heart, or maybe it was the stomach, because he was hungry. He looked away, but his gaze returned to her face next second, taking in the little frown on her forehead, the scrunch of her nose, the way she had pressed her lips... from this close, everything looked different... different from the Naina he had been seeing in last few months. But he was unable to put a finger on what exactly was this change.

His trance was broken when Naina took a step back, and declared, 'That was last. Ab main aur help nahi kar sakti. Jaa rahi hun.'

And fled the room before waiting for his reply. Not that Sameer needed any more help. He brushed aside the confusion of his mind and went back to closet, shutting the door securely.

Ambika looked at Naina's flushed face, and her brows went up for a moment. Had they been an actual couple, she would have just pretended to not notice, but with Sameer and Naina, this redness on her cheeks could not be because of obvious reasons.

'Kya hua Naina? Kya chahiye tha Sameer ko?' She asked, keeping her tone as casual as possible.

'Uski shirt...' She began, then hesitated, and averted her gaze , '... shirt ki sleeve ka button nahi band ho raha tha.'

'Oh.' Ambika chuckled, 'Pata hai mujhe, shaadi ke baad aise hi bahano se wife ko room mein bulate hain.'

Naina turned red in mortification. She could comprehend the meaning of Ambika's words, but could not tell how far from reality her thoughts were. On the other hand, Ambika smiled to herself, contented at giving the right impression to her newly wed daughter in law.

Thankfully, Anaya came down the stairs, drawing their attention with her loud greeting, 'Good morning beautiful ladies. Aaj ka view toh bohot achha hai. Mummy ke saath saath bhabhi bhi. Pakka mera din zarur super duper jaane wala hai.'

Naina smiled, 'Aaj kuch special hai kya?'

'Hai toh.' She flicked up her brows, 'Aaj aapke haath ka khana milega na. Woh jo system hota hai, shaadi ke baad halwa banana wala.'

Naina worriedly turned to Ambika, 'Sorry mummy, mujhe yaad hi nahi raha. Main abhi halwa bana deti hun.'

'Bilkul nahi.' It was Dadaji's loud voice that made the three of them look at the main door of the house.

He was coming from outside, with a bag in his hand. Placing it on the table, he gave a stern look to Anaya, 'Naina kitchen mein kuch nahi bana sakti.'

A worrisome thought crossed Naina's mind... had he come to know of the arrangement?

But it was Anaya who asked, baffled, 'Kyon Dadaji? Yeh toh rule hai na? Bride ko kuch meetha banana hota hai shaadi ke agle din.'

The answer to her query was given by Ambika, 'Rule nahi par rasm hai. Hamare yahan yeh rasm sirf nayi dulhan ke liye nahi, dulhe ke liye bhi hoti hai. Ab tak woh sirf beta tha, ek pati ke roop mein uska bhi pehla din hai. Jab main shaadi karke aayi thi toh tere papa ke saath milkar kheer banayi thi.'

Dadaji explained further, 'Aur ab bhi, yeh rasm Naina ke saath Sameer ko bhi karni hai. Lekin abhi Sameer poori tarah se theek nahi hua hai isliye hum yeh rasm kuch din baad karenge, jab uske pair ke saath saath uski finger bhi bilkul durust ho jayegi.'

Anaya was surprised, 'Wow. Aisa toh maine pehli baar suna hai. Aajkal sab jagah aisa hone laga hai kya?'

Dadaji smiled, 'Sab jagah hona chahiye par logon ko badlaav pasand nahi aate. Khair, hum apne ghar mein toh kar hi sakte hain na. Rasm wohi hai bas usmein thoda sa change kar diya. Naye couple ko ek saath meetha isliye banana chahiye jisse unke rishte ki shuruaat achhi ho. Aage ki zindagi mein bhi dono mil kar apne har din ko mehekti hui mithaas se bhar sakein. Ghar ko aur apni shaadishuda life ko sambhalna sirf patni ki responsibility nahi hai. Shaadi dono ki hui hai. Toh dono ko ek saath iske liye efforts daalne honge.'

Naina was amazed at his progressive thinking. Previous night, when the ritual of kanyadaan was changed, she had been impressed. And now, hearing his reason for modification of another ritual had filled her with more respect for him. In a world where men took pride in staying away from kitchen and household work and tried to prove themselves better than women at every step, Dadaji was bringing equality with such small, yet significant steps.

'Aur haan.' Ambika looked at Naina with a twinkle in her eyes, 'Ek aur rasm hoti hai hamare yahan. Sameer ko tumhe apni baahon mein utha ke teen chakkar lagane honge. Uski haalat ki wajah se isey bhi postpone karna pada lekin yeh rasm hum karenge zarur, kuch dinon baad.'

Another streak of red found its way to Naina's cheeks. She decided to talk to Sameer later, and come up with a way to avoid it. Cooking together was still okay, though she wasn't sure Sameer could tell the difference between a pan and cooker.

Dadaji pointed at the bag, 'Ambika, isme gajar ka halwa hai. Main aur Girish subah subah Chandni Chowk yehi lene gaye the. Aaj isi se sabka muh meetha karana.'

Girish entered after parking the car, looking into his phone. He glanced up for a moment and noticed the two girls.

'Good morning Anu. Good morning Naina.' He said lightly, his gaze falling back to the phone.

Anu's chirpy voice reached him, 'Good morning papa.'

And then, a slow, hesitant voice... of Naina, 'Good morning... papa.'

He looked up instantly. There was a tentative look on Naina's face, as if she was just testing, not sure if she wanted to address him that way... yet.

He slipped the phone in his pocket and stopped in front of her. With an indulgent smile, he placed a chaste kiss on her forehead before taking her in a warm embrace and repeated, 'Good morning beta. Welcome to the family.'

Naina's anxious countenance relaxed, and her lips pulled into a smile as Girish went ahead to give a fatherly hug to Anaya, patting her head when she whispered something to him. In the days she had been here earlier, or even in the hospital, Naina had observed how open all of them were, when it came to show affection. They would hug each other for everything... happiness, comfort, assurance, security, emotional support. There was no awkwardness between anyone. Girish would not shrink away from kissing his wife on the cheek playfully, or on the head when she was distressed, seeking comfort in his arms. Their action did not make others uncomfortable, nor did it feel unpleasant. They all loved each other... and expressed it without any scruples. Theirs was a kind of pure love Naina had never seen anywhere. Never thought it could exist, in a family.

Sameer came down as they all were about to sit for breakfast. He greeted everyone.

Girish cleared his throat, 'Kyon beta, zyada hi garmi lag rahi hai kya jo half sleeves ki shirt pehni hai? Abhi weather itna bhi nahi badla.'

Naina's eyes shot up to Ambika, who supressed her smile and continued to serve herself some fruits without showing any hint of remembering Naina's excuse of few moments back.

Sameer did not catch the tease, and answered casually, 'Doctor ke paas jaana hai papa. Baar baar sweater nikalne mein problem hoti hai isliye upar se jacket daal lunga. Waise itni sardi hai bhi nahi.'

Anaya leaned towards her mom, whispering, 'Pakka subah hi ladai karke dimaag garam kar liya hoga. Isliye na bhabhi ne sweater pehna hai na bhai ne.'

Ambika whispered back, 'Koi nahi, kehte hain na ladne se pyar badhta hai. Inki gaadi bhale hi ulti chale, par mujhe yakeen hai sahi station par pohonchegi zarur.'

Under the table, Anaya gave her a thumbs up sign. Ambika nodded, blinking at her to remain quiet but she herself was finding it difficult to keep a straight face.

Just as they finished breakfast, she directed Sameer to take Naina to her house, 'Aaj raat ko Natasha jaa rahi hai. Naina uske saath time bhi spend kar legi aur pagphere ki rasm bhi ho jayegi.'

Wanted to include a few more incidents in this chapter but could not, due to lack of time. To make up for it, I'll give the next update on Sunday