Jeevan ka, ye pahiyaa
Ghoome sada
Dohraaye na apni,
Phir daastan
Beeta kal, daaman mein
Leke chala
Vo taaron, ki duniya
Vo silsilaa...

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A plethora of emotions, a thousand unsaid words, feelings that never received the blessing to be expressed, seemed to be embedded in his heart like shards of glass. The heavy downpour drenched him completely, harshly. The clouds dark with the moisture they contained, thundered loudly once again. However, the deafening sounds as well as the deluge didn't appear to affect him in the slightest way possible. Shiva just stood there like a rock, devoid of almost any signs of life about himself. Unbothered by his surroundings, motionless.

He never could have her to himself. And yet he had lost her completely today. She wasn't his to begin with, but she had taken all that was his away from him with herself - every ounce of life. And if given a chance, any chance, he would trade his life - whatever was left of it - to bring her back to him. Anywhere near him. If given a chance, he would trade his world to bring his world back, to undo everything that had happened within a few days, or hours.

He remembered the last time he had seen her - emotionless, still, like a mannequin, she sat. Her long hair was let loose on her shoulders, partly covered with the white pallu resting on her head. Her hearty lips remained sealed the entire time. Her long eyelashes almost brushed her cheeks as her lids remained glued to the ground before her, all the while.

For the brief moment that his eyes had caught hers, he had spotted bleakness there. Emptiness. Unfought desolation, and a tinge of guilt in her tired eyes. There was no remnant of the light he had once seen originating from and glued to her eyes in those dull orbs. And there seemed to be nothing left in her of the Raavi he once knew.

Reflexively, Shiva shut his eyes at the memory. It was all his fault. He was not sure how, but he was sure it was. It must be. She had trusted him to save her no matter what, and he couldn't. Maybe he could have had he tried, but he didn't. He didn't even know she needed him. It was his fault. He could have done something, anything, had he known. And he was supposed to, for it was Raavi - his Raavi - and he was Shiva - her Shiva. But he didn't, and that was it. It was all. His. Fault.

If only life could be reversed, if only fates could be changed, and if only time could be stopped then and there that first time he saw her after years...

August 21, 2015
10:00 p.m.
Somnath, Gujarat

The raindrops pattered against the cemented ground, being the only sound that could be heard in the silent night. Apart from the light vrooming of an engine that waited on the streets of Somnath, the passenger inside it rummaging his pockets to find the extra coins he needed. Ones that the many unknown routes he took to the place had added to his journey.

"Jaldi karo na, Saheb. Kahi mausam bigad na jaye." The impatient driver pleaded to his fare.

"Isliye to keh raha hoon. Aap bache hue paise rakh lo. Saat rupaye ki hi to baat hai."

"Apni mehnat se main ek rupya zyada bhi nahi rakh sakta." The driver replied honestly. "Aap bas thoda jaldi karo."

The passenger, though impressed by the man's words in today's world, sighed once. He had no choice left now, but to reach for his wallet that he had safely packed in one of his suitcases at the railway station.

Unzipping the blue bag, he took out the black object kept there on top. Luckily, he could see the argent coins shining at the bottom of the billfold. Paying the driver the required amount and stuffing the wallet in his pocket, he stepped out with his bags on the road while the taxi sped up in the opposite direction.

The raindrops began to drench him softly as he stood at the entrance of the colony. Cemented tracks lay ahead of him, much different to the uneven lanes of Somnath he remembered having spent his childhood on. Houses - one storeyed buildings to two and three floored blocks - shops and closed stalls lined either side of the roads. The street was empty at this hour of the night, and the only sound audible to him was that of the raindrops. There were lampposts at the side of the lanes but their bulbs remained dark, owing to the weather.

He stood still at his spot for a minute, looking ahead at the view before him, before dragging his luggage wheels behind him as he stepped into the colony once again, after years.

There was no sign of any person as far as his eyes could see even as he kept walking. Nothing apart from just him, the silent roads, the dark night enveloping him, and the rain still drenching him tenderly. He remembered the address very well even after all this time. However, the place had changed so much from the time he had last seen it, it didn't seem a matter of seconds to reach his destination at once, as it had once been. Maybe he shouldn't have denied the mental roadmap to the house offered by Raghav when he was leaving.

His eyes suddenly doubled back on a dull board he saw at a distance at the end of a lane. 'Baba Somnath Halwai Ghar' - it read. The letters appeared clearer as he walked towards the shop - written in white on a large blue board with 'Somnathano vishwasa', meaning 'The faith of Somnath', written in smaller letters with a different font style right below it. Though the colours and shine of the signboard had faded away with its age, the memories associated with it were still as young, and a softness appeared in his eyes on its own volition as his gaze lingered on the blue plate of aluminum.

It was funny how the entire place that surrounded him currently - everything here - seemed to have been transformed from something dearly familiar to roads completely alien, while this single shop before him had refused to accept any differences. It was funny how this little blue board was the first thing that provided him comfort and assurance, and radiated a welcoming, homely warmth towards him in this entire big town. And suddenly, he didn't feel so lost.

'Turn right to Somnath Halwai. Walk for ten minutes on the road among the markets, then take the first turn and walk for five minutes ahead. Stop and turn to the only buff and brown house you see in the street.'

The address last spoken years ago over probably a phone call to someone, still rang clear as day in his ears, down to every detail. As he followed the old voice in his head, after a walk of about fifteen minutes, a buff house entered his vision, standing erect at a distance from him, sandwiched between similar houses that lined the wide street on both the sides.

With the house becoming clearer with each step that he took towards it after what seemed like centuries, a million memories circled in his mind at once. Voices heard and said there replayed in his head, moments spent among the walls circling before his eyes. Flashes of that perfect life he had, reminiscences of his heart enveloped him gently without him even being aware of it. This house, his house - still looking the same without any change - was the second thing in Somnath that made him feel he belonged to this place once again. However, his feet did not stop moving even for once. His eyes remained glued to the building before him as he closed the gap between him and the two storeyed house.

Walking up the porch steps silently, he felt his pockets before fishing out an old key and inserting it into the almost rusted lock that hung on the large door. After two to three attempts, the lock clicked and turned open with a light noise. The door creaked open and nostalgia gripped him tightly once again. Stepping inside the house after years, he turned back to reach for his bags, when his eyes fell on a peach and rosewood painted structure, spontaneously stopping all his actions and thoughts for a minute. The two floored house stood in front of him, right before his house across the street. The house that had been standing there since as long as he could remember. Unphased even a bit - the third thing that seemed his own.

Would she still be living here?

A couple of minutes witnessed him looking at the peach house with an undecipherable expression on his face, before he pulled his suitcases inside, the door closing with another creak behind him.

Shiva Pandya was back on the grounds of Somnath, after years.

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The sun drew up like any other day over the town of Somnath. However, there was something in the atmosphere that surrounded the city today that radiated a different feeling all around. A feeling of hope, warmth, positivity - after long, dark nights of rainstorms.

Unlike the other nights, the downpour the previous night furnished a fresh, soothing feeling to the air all around, mingled by the warmth the golden rays of the rising sun provided to the same. The cooing of birds could be heard faintly, among the hustle and bustle of the busy city that woke up right after the sun. The air held a different aura, and it could be felt in the breaths of the fresh, warm morning.

Unbeknownst to all of it, there he lay on his bed, sleeping peacefully under the brown covers due to the exhausting effect the long journey to the place had on him. A shrill noise could be suddenly heard in the room, causing his brows to frown at the disturbance, being the light sleeper he was. With eyes half opened, his hand reached for the black device kept beside his pillow.

Dhara Bhabhi.

The caller ID read. He lifted the call, pressing the cell phone to his ear, before hitting his head back on the pillow, closing his eyes.

"Ji, bhabhi." His groggy voice answered.

"Hello? Shiva?" Dhara's calm yet excited voice spoke from the other side. "Pohoch gaya tu? Kaisa hai sab wahan? Ghar pe hai kya abhi? Aur pohoch gaya to phone kyu nahi kiya?"

"Bas karne hi wala tha, Bhabhi." Shiva replied, scratching his head drowsily.

"Aate aate kaafi raat ho gayi thi na-" He yawned, finally getting to a sitting position on the bed. "-aur abhi tak neend hi nahi khuli thi ki aapko call karta." He tore the cellphone from his ear, checking the screen for a minute. 08:25 a.m.

"Neend nahi khuli?" That was a shocker. Shiva had always been the earliest riser of their house, with the exception of Dhara, of course.

"Tu thik hai na? Aur ye teri aawaz aisi bujhi bujhi si kyun lag rahi hai?" Dhara interrogated, the mother in her worried.

"Haan, Bhabhi. Mujhe kya hoga? Main bilkul-" And as if on cue, Shiva sneezed once, and then twice. And then a third time before he could speak again. And when he could speak again, he wasn't allowed to.

"Tujhe zukaam hua hai? Kal to acha bhala nikla tha ghar se! Raste mein aisa kya kar liya tune? Wahaan to koi hai bhi nahi tera khayaal rakhne ke liye. Maa ko pata chala to pehli train pakad ke aa jayengi tere paas!" He rubbed his nose as Dhara lectured him in one breath.

Sometimes, he felt having two mother figures - apart from all the love and pampering it brought - was quite an issue as well.

"Ab kuch bolega bhi?" Dhara unusually asked in a strict voice. "Yaa maa ko bhejun wahaan?"

"Arre nahi nahi, Bhabhi! Uski koi zaroorat nahi hai." Shiva immediately replied, alarmed.

He knew both the women really well. Dhara could very well send his mother if she decided to, and his mother wouldn't think a second before coming here too. He sneezed again before continuing.

"Aap to maa ko janti ho na. Bas thoda sa zukaam hua hai shayad. Vo kal raat ko baarish mein bheeng gaya tha na ghar dhoondhte waqt." He paused, before continuing. "Sab kuch kitna badal gaya hai Bhabhi yahan." Shiva placed his head on the headrest behind him.

"Baarish mein? Par chha-"

"Arre chhodo na, Bhabhi." Shiva cut Dhara off immediately, before she could put forward her next question.

It had been really late to buy an umbrella. And the taxi driver, at his obliviousness towards his destination, had shown an urgency to return after dropping him off at what he claimed was his colony - the Kailash Road he remembered just faintly visible on a side wall- after a ride of around one and a half hours in the same area.

"Zaroori baat ye hai ki main yahan aa gaya. Apne ghar. Vaapas. Bohot badal gayi hai ye jagah, Bhabhi. Par humara ghar bilkul vaisa hi hai." Shiva's eyes softened as they wandered around his room.

Everything was just as he remembered leaving it. The memories these walls brought, the overwhelming homely aroma etched in the air all around, everything filled his heart with warmth as well as a sense of loss. Warmth his home provided to him, and loss of having it all far away from him for years.

"Hoga kyun nahi?" Dhara smiled softly with slightly glistening eyes.

"Humara ghar hai vo. Saalon tak humare parivaar ke har sukh dukh ko usi ne to dekha hai. Aaj bhi aankhein band kar uska naksha bana sakti hun main." She giggled at the last phrase with merriment and brushes of rememberance.

"Jab humara pyaar aur rishte nahi badle, to unn rishton ko janm dene wala vo ghar kaise badal sakta hai, Shiva?" Shiva smiled at her words, eyes staring far ahead at nothing in particular.

' Jo rishte paas the vo to nahi badle, Bhabhi. Bas jo dur reh kar bhi paas lagta tha, kaash vo bhi na badla ho.'

The silence was broken by another sneeze of Shiva.

"Aur tu jaa. Jaa kar pehle steam le! Phir kaadha aur dawai le lena. Varna main aati hun Maa ko lekar." Dhara warned him.

"Ji, Bhabhi." Shiva answered like the most obedient kid.

"Main phone karti rahungi. Tu bhi khabar dete rehna sab kaisa chal raha hai. Jai Somnath."

"Jai Somnath." With that, the call disconnected, the conversation having successfully woken him up completely.

Stretching his arms, Shiva rubbed his eyes again. His head felt a bit heavy, sinuses under pressure, and throat probably sore. So he decided to follow Dhara Bhabhi's instructions quietly before anything else.

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

Wiping his face with a white towel, Shiva was feeling much better after the steam therapy Dhara Bhabhi had suggested. As he sat on his bed, some noises from the streets outside fell into his ears. The day for Somnath had begun. A sharp sense of nostalgia suddenly surged up his veins.

This was Somnath. The Somnath he left. The Somnath he remembered. And the Somnath he missed.

The hustle and bustle of the zestful city could be heard, within its own boundaries, probably hidden from the rest of the Gujarat. The liveliness and life that could be heard and felt here since the sun rose, with people returning to their jobs and business with the first rays of the sun. The 'jobs' and works of most added their own glory to the exuberance of the roads, for majority of the people of the city worked for and within the city itself. A large part of the working population of each part of the place could be seen working in shops and stores lining the roads, setting up stalls there, with the common vendors selling a variety of stuffs ranging from the best local cuisines to the prettiest handcrafted garments and the finest of fabrics.

This was Somnath. Shiva's Somnath. Like a breath of fresh air to his lungs from the hectic life of Ahmedabad.

Somnath - meaning Lord Shiva himself. The land of Lord Shiva. A small town located in the state of Gujarat, but a beautiful place to live in. One engaged in its own self. Too engrossed to care about the rest of the world. Invigorating, pure, happy, busy, cheerful, vibrant, carefree, astir - home. Waking with the sun with freedom, and resting with the moon in peace. His home. Everything associated with it brought pieces of comfort to him.

Oh, how much he had missed it all!

He gently stood to his feet, walking towards the balcony that faced the busy roads of the colony. As the engaged street came into view, Shiva's gaze just sweeped across the area with a lost expression on his face. Men could be seen lifting the shutters of their shops, while some had already started receiving the first of their customers. Everything seemed so harmonious and complete in its own self. 

His eyes then landed on the vegetable cart that had just entered the scene, a middle aged man pushing it from behind as he stepped into the street, yelling the names of different items on his cart in display in a particular order as he walked with the wheels dragging on the floor to a particular spot. Then, standing there, the man sprinkled some water on his vegetables once, before entertaining the women that came his way to buy their supplies for the day.

Shiva watched the scene from his balcony. A familiar, old memory suddenly resurfaced in his mind on its own. And with eyes fixated at the view before him, his subconscious travelled to it slowly, unknown to him, before pulling him entirely into the flashbacks that filled his mind out of the blue.

'Achoo!'

The loud noise resonated in the aangan of Pandya Niwas, followed by a high-pitched "Shivaaa! Ruk na!"

The scene that had unfurled itself there on a seemingly regular morning of Gujarat was worth watching.

Shiva was running accross the aangan in every direction with his face distorted with disgust. While Raavi ran behind him determinedly in a school uniform, her long ponytails swishing in the air as she followed him.

"Bilkul nahi." Shiva replied to her with equal determination.

"Ye jo bhi ubla hua kachra leke aayi hai na isse jaake apni uss maasi ko pila de. Kaki ki behen ki beti! Mane marava mange chhe?! (You want to kill me?!)"

"Ubla hua kachra nahi hai ye!" Raavi pouted, stopping her chase as she did so.

"Soup kehte hain ise, Shiva! Soup. Vegetable soup. Aur main tujhe kyun maarungi? Itne pyaar se apne haathon se tere liye ye soup banakar laayi hun main! Aaj to tujhe pila kar hi rahungi!" She grinned excitedly at the idea.

Shiva now stood on the cot, facing her in a defensive posture as she stood before him on the floor, hands on her waist, her neck tilted up to see him.

"Itne hi pyaar se banaya hai-" A sneeze. "-to khud pi le. Pyaari cheezein dusron ko nahi deni chahiye, bata raha hoon tujhe." Shiva retorted, sniffing.

"Haan piyungi na!" Raavi flashed her biggest smile. "Tere saath piyungi! Pehle tu to taste karke bata kaisi bani hai!"

"Kyun? Pehle main kyun? Zeher milaya hai?" He asked in a serious tone.

"Kyunki main ye tere liye hi laayi hun! Tu beemar hai na. Isliye pehle tu piyega."

"Ae, chipkali! Main koi beemar veemar nahi hun, samjhi?-"

"To school kyun nahi aa raha hai? Mujhse jhooth mat bol. Maine Dhara di se sab puch liya hai. Tujhe zukaam hai isliye tu mareezon ki tarah ghar mein baitha hai. Chal ab sharma mat. Aur ye pi le. Apne haathon se banaya hai! Ise pi kar tu bilkul pehle wala bhooton ka devta ban jayega!" Raavi squealed in exhilaration.

"Main? Ye ubla hua kachra piyunga?" Shiva pointed to the bowl kept nearby with disgust. "Bhool ja."

"Thik hai! Mat pi." To his surprise, she readily agreed this time, before her next words made more sense of her actions.

"Tu jab tak nahi piyega main bhi yahin baithi rahungi." The little girl settled herself comfortably on one of the chairs kept nearby.

"Jaane de mera aaj ka test. Kya fark padta hai?" She shrugged casually, smiling.

"Ae! Apna chhota dimaag ghar pe chhod ke aayi hai kya? Chup chaap ye bag utha aur nikal yahan se." Shiva ordered, pointing to her school bag lying somewhere on a chair.

"Shiva! Haathon me to soup tha na! Tujhe dene ke liye itni jaldi mein aayi, dimaag chhoot gaya hoga ghar par! Kya kar sakte hain?" Raavi smiled at him contentedly.

"Haan, agar tu ye le le to...shayad vaapas aa jaye! Kya kehta hai?!" She beamed.

Shiva just shook his head in disbelief at this girl. Was she serious?! How could someone be so stubborn?!

"Tujhse hi sikha hai!" Raavi replied, answering his unsaid thoughts like every time. He started at her with clenched jaws.

This chipkali!

"Ghoor kya raha hai? Khayega kya? Khana nahi hai! Peena hai! Jaldi aa!" Raavi smiled the brightest.

She was getting tired running after him across the large aangan, he still being fast and jumping over stuffs like the bandar he was. So, she decided to just rest and let him come to her instead. And that was exactly what was going to happen now.

She watched with a sweet, satisfied, wide smile as Shiva climbed down the cot with a sour face, shooting daggers at her all through the while.

"Le!" She offered the broth to him with the biggest grin plastered on her lips.

Shiva begrudgingly sat on the cot he was just standing on, before snatching the bowl from her hands with an irritated look.

"Ye hui na baat!" Raavi encouraged him radiantly. "Chal pura pi le. Main yahin hoon."

"Kyun yahin hai?" Shiva retorted. "Pi raha hun na. Ghoor ke maregi kya? Jaa ab."

"Arre, aise kaise? Tune cheating kar li to?"

"Sabko apni Maasi samjha hai kya?" Shiva spoke, uninterested, before bringing a spoonful of the liquid close to his mouth.

He watched Raavi's expressions change with every second as he did that, finally fixing to a glowing smile and wide eyes glued to his face - eyes gleaming with anticipation - as he placed the spoon in his mouth.

A moment of silence followed. Shiva made a weird face before he decided to break the silence.

"Ye kisse banwa ke laayi hai?" He asked plainly.

Raavi seemed offended at that.

"Ohho, Shiva! Kaha na! Apne haathon se banaya hai maine!"

Then with the smile back to her face, she asked eagerly. "Kaisa bana hai??"

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Somewhere in present-day Somnath, a girl sneezed for the nth time as she turned off the alarm next to her, eyes fluttering open from the tune as she watched her cellphone. An alarm that read 'Shopping'.

Getting off her bed reluctantly, she grabbed a claw clip from the nearby vanity table, clipping a few strands of her long hair at the back of her head loosely. Then without a word, she headed towards the wooden door of the room.

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"Mujhe nahi pata tha tujhe ye sab bhi aata hai." Shiva casually replied.

Did he just say 'tujhe aata hai'? If she knew how to make it according to him, then that was supposed to mean he liked it! She knew he would! After all, it was the first something she had ever cooked. And for Shiva! And firsts are supposed to be special, aren't they?

"Aata hai na! Mujhe sab kuch aata hai! Tu vo chhod. Tune kaha mujhe ye aata hai matlab tujhe achchha laga na?" Raavi eagerly waited for a confirmation.

"Bohot achchha hai." Shiva replied after a pause. And watched as every inch of her face lit up with the most jubilant, childish glee. He ate some more.

"Sachchi??? Lagta hai bima-" Raavi saw Shiva's glare and smiled sheepishly. He didn't like to be called beemar, no matter what.

"-zukaam - zukaam tere sir chadh gaya hai jo tu itna sach bol raha hai." Raavi appeared satisfied with her theory.

"Par koi baat nahi. Tu chinta mat kar! Ab main aa gayi hun na. Aur ab to tune ye Raavi special soup bhi pi liya hai. Ab tu bilkul thik ho jaayega, Shiva!"

"Par tu ye kisse sikh ke aayi hai?" He asked again. "Tujh jaisi chhoti chipkali ko cooking kisne sikha di?" He really wanted to know.

"Kisi ne nahi!" Raavi wore a cheery smile.

"Maine Dhara di ko dekha tha Gaumbi ke liye soup banate hue jab vo beemar the. To bas, main bhi le aayi! Waise to maine unhe kaadha banate hue bhi dekha tha-" She turned to see Shiva's horrified expressions and laughed.

"-Par chal koi nahi, vo agli baar ka rakhte hain. Tu darr mat!"

"To jab Dhara di ne phone karke bataya ki tu school nahi aa raha aur main tera wait na karun, aur ye bhi ki tu bohot nakhre dikha raha hai, to tere nakhron par ye pyaara sa soup daalne mujhe to aana hi tha na!" She stated as a matter of fact.

She remembered Dhara Di calling Prafulla in the morning, just as the little girl got up from her slumber. Raavi watched her for a moment and then stuck her ear to the telephone when she heard Prafulla taking Shiva's name, and heard the rest of the conversation between the two ladies.

Shiva was sick, Dhara said. Raavi's little heart tightened in fear at that. What happened to Bhootnath? Is he not okay? Isn't he supposed to be the strongest? Do strong people get sick too?

She wanted to go to Shiva as soon as she heard that. But before she could, her thought was broken by another detail that stated he was refusing to take anything. Food, drinks, medications - all lay aside pushed by his tantrums. Raavi's eyes moistened at that. She didn't like the feeling of being sick herself, and she knew Shiva hated it too, even more than her. It would turn the grumpy Bhootnath in him even more active. Hence the tantrums. She could imagine his state currently, and she couldn't imagine him like this.

Dhara then said it wasn't anything to worry about as such. That put her heart at slight relief. But when it involves Shiva, everything is to be worried about and taken care of properly. She can't just ignore it. Besides, she needs someone by her side, and needs him, when she is not well. He calls her a 'nautanki' for that. He was mostly never one himself, but somehow she was sure he needed someone too. He needed her. She had to be there, no matter what. At least see him once from her own eyes to believe Dhara Di to some extent. She just prayed to Bholenaath, folding her soft, tiny hands, that her Bhootnath was fine, at least until she reached there to take care of him and his tantrums.

And when she did, Shiva was restlessly lying on the cot all by himself in the courtyard. It was only when she revealed her surprise dish and neared him with a spoonful of it that he rushed out of the bed with a jolt and began running all around, with her behind him. And seeing him run and jump like the bandar he was, made her insides happy once again.

"Maasi Maa ne pehle aane hi nahi diya! Main to unke phone rakhte hi aa rahi thi. Yahin soup bana deti. Par unhone rok diya aur pehle taiyar hone ko kehne lagi. Unhe laga main yahan aa gayi to vaapas hi nahi jaungi! Vo bhi na!" Raavi complained.

"Vo to achchha hai maine Dhara di ko soup banate thoda dekha tha pehle. Aur baaki maine khud soch liya! Dekh, mere ready hote hote ye bhi ready ho gaya. Kitna achchha hua na? Maasi Maa bhi khush, main bhi! Aur tu to hoga hi ise pi kar!" She smiled wide in pure delight.

"Bhabhi se hi banwa leti phir." Shiva suggested. "Sadak par thik se chalna to aata nahi tujhe, kya pata iss kachre ke saath khud ko bhi ubaal le."

"Shivaaa!" Raavi sang once again, pouting.

"Dhara di to Gaumbi ke liye banati hain na. Tere liye to mujhe hi banana tha na! Aur kisi aur ka (apart from her and Dhara) kya bharosa? Isliye Maasi Maa ki help bhi nahi li maine."

Then before Shiva could say anything else, she pulled out another box from the soup bag she had brought for him. Shiva watched her, quietly eating, as she uncovered the lid of the box, looking at it with a toothy smile.

"Tu kya kar rahi hai?" He asked in a confused voice.

"Breakfast!" Raavi replied immediately, and Shiva stilled for a second.

"Mujhe bhi to breakfast karna hai na! Kaha to tha chal saath mein karte hain. Tu akela hi thoosta reh gaya. Bhootnath kahin ka!" She looked at him, disappointed.

"Chal koi nahi. Main apne liye bhi leke aayi hun. Kaha tha na main bhi piyungi!" She inserted the spoon in her bowl.

"Tu ye khayegi? Kyu khayegi? Beemar to main hu na." He interrogated in a single breath.

"Arre waah! Tune maan liya ki tu beemar hai?" Raavi found this topic more interesting than his question. Shiva narrowed his eyes at the laughing girl.

"Ghoor ke maarega kya?" She repeated his earlier words to him.

"Offo, Shiva! Tu dobi hai! Beemar tu hai, to kya main Somnath Halwai ke laddoo khaun tere saamne baith kar?" She laughed.

"Nahi na! Mujhe pata hai tujhe ye beemaron wala khana nahi pasand. Aur TU rota hua bohot bura lagega. Aur nahi bhi royega to Mausapa kehte hain zaroorat ke waqt doston ka saath nahi chhodna chahiye. Isliye teri pyaari best friend hone ke naate main tera saath dungi! Aur main bhi wahi khaungi jo tu khaega. Chinta mat kar, tu akela nahi hai. Phir jab tu thik ho jayega na, to hum dono mil kar party karenge!" Raavi vibrated in her chair enthusiastically.

And before Shiva could utter a next word, she exuberantly put a large spoon of soup into her mouth. He watched her with an expressionless face, before shaking his head lightly as he went back to his food.

Raavi paused for a moment. Her features then formed an expression of torment, before she spewed all the liquid filled in her mouth back into the bowl. Shiva simply sighed seeing her.

"Chhiiiii!" Raavi almost yelled. "Isme to namak hi nahi hai!"

Shiva licked the last bits off his bowl, when he heard another yell of hers. "Cheeni hai isme!!!"

Chipkali!

The memory had long ago curved his lips into a soft smile of nostalgia. Just as any thought of hers did. So lost was he into the precious thoughts, that he didn't even realise his eyes had become moist.

Shiva didn't know what pulled him after that, but he soon found himself walking towards his wallet, then to the main door. And before his conscious self could arrange his thoughts properly, he was standing on the street before his house, facing the vegetable seller at the other side of the road. If only Chipkali was here, she would probably have made him drink her Raavi special soup again. Maybe with salt this time if he was lucky enough. But even if she's not, he cannot disobey her.

And so he walked towards the vendor, the memories still circling his mind. The stall was almost empty by now and only two people could be spotted apart from the seller as most of the customers had already left. A woman in a blue saree left with her purchase just as he came, and another woman in a simple, lilac Anarkali continued to check the vegetables when he silently came and stood beside her.

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To be continued.

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