UP THE STAIRS

Sadhvi's POV

It was Saturday and twenty-nine years old I, was giddy going to her best friends’ house.

I was staying the night and if things permit the next night too. Parent’s permission to be exact.

Old or not parents are always there.
Protecting.
Even at this age I ask for their permission because kid-ish it might sound, I’ve been like that since forever now.

I don’t like changes.

I tend to follow what I’ve learnt and practice what I’ve been taught.
I walk by my rules—some my own set or some set by my parents when I was not independent.

My sister tells me that I don’t have that ‘X’ factor which she calls thrill and chill.

Because I never stalked my crushes for fun, never followed and talked to them unless forced.
Never done anything out of comfort zone, never stepped out of my bubble. My sister and best friend do that for me. They fill me up and push me to chill.

But this doesn’t make me less savage than I already am.

The sass I spill is mostly the reason I am popular, both bad and in good ways.

I like to burn them in envy or jealousy, I couldn’t care less. There is another level of satisfaction in this.

Hey! I am a good girl a little arrogant as you assume but caring.

I am a late bloomer.

Everything I asked in life reached me but with own speed. Or more like riding a hand rail cart.
I was born late, after 7 years of my parents wedding, I started talking and walking early but started my schooling one year late.
Joined my college one year late because I skipped a year to excel entrance exams, it wasn’t enough what I gained to enroll me in the college of my liking;
I pursued post-graduation too but got my certificate an year later, because the university delayed it, technical default.

And now 29 but single, not married, not engaged and not in a relationship for that matter

Life couldn’t suck any more

So I hope the late bloomer statement is justified.

I’ve dated a few guys in my life, had quite a number of men falling for me, both in school and colleges.

I was the crush of a lot of boys in my class--  I got the information after graduating school. My social media was suddenly filling with confession. Why do boys do that?

Why not during school?

Maybe your confession that time would've boosted my confidence a bit more.

Well a few of them mustered enough courage to ask me out during school days too but I refused them politely. So I guess here I have my answer.

NO, nobody wants rejection and the embarrassment that follows.

There was a boy in school who followed me around since class eighth until eleventh where I buzzed him off quite good, using my father force. Lol.

He used to rush those boys out of my way because he had marked me his territory to hit on.

Everytime a new guy joined our class he made his duty to warn him off beforehand.

I have been called stuck-up numerous times in my life but that didn’t stop them from approaching me.

Calling me stuck-up and cold hearted was their way of seeing revenge.

Thats what i assure myself with.

I’ve learnt this then that nothing is incredible than a confident girl.

I could be sensitive many times, not hormonal but soft hearted usually. I hide my insecurities well and cry in the corner later.

I am confident because, I want them all to like me, I want them to love me—them all.

I speak high, hold my chin up and my shoulders square but I don’t do good with criticism. When criticized, I lose the faith in me.

In this world anyone I love the most is my father--  regular like everyone I know, but I like to say that out loud every chance I get.

I look like my mother but I have qualities of both of my parents. I am silent and aggressive like my mother but schemer and impressive like my father.
Got two siblings, both younger and I am a good role model.

Keep telling yourself that

Urgh!

I am just your one same sassy girl with those same old insecurities—the insecurities that I don’t show because I’ve mastered hiding them. Age teaches you a lot.

By now, I am well independent and had made my parents proud. Earned myself a car, I buy my own wardrobe and those mouthwatering heels, the only pending part for me is to get married—my age is running.

No, I know that marital status doesn’t define your life but what about your dream—it does define mine.

When I was 20, I made dreams of my own to achieve what is must.

With happiness, carrier success, providing financial support and decorating my home more and more I made myself a promise to get this too.

I promised myself that once I feel that I’ve everything I ever wanted, I’ll hunt that one significant other down and love him to death.

Where is he now?

Am I too late to look for him now?

During my journey of getting what I wanted I sacrificed a lot of things in the path, I want to regret it but I know my pride is never going to let me.

I wouldn’t trade for anything, what I have now.

I am no desperate to ask for a man but I am the one who crave one.

You are going to jump his bones the first moment you see him, aren’t you?

As if.

Shoving my thoughts out of my way I walked up the stairs to the apartment my best friend has with her husband.

If walking up the staircase, I ever have a possibility to bump into my soul mate I am not going to accept him just like that. I have waited long I need to see him struggle too but not going to push him away, Ofcourse.

Desperate!

Whatever.

My mind called me once again but I pushed him.

I have seen sweet, caring, shy, creepy, passionate and a little too over bearing lovers but this time I am up for a surprise.

And if my soul mate doesn’t give me challenges--  I don’t want it.

Trust me you do.

Yeah, I was just saying.

This time I am looking something mutual, something which burns us both.

It was one of those days, the day where you will get a chance to live your freedom.

Freedom meaning different for everyone but to me these days something new, new as in this is my freedom from work—stress free, responsibility free and the day where I am picturing myself celebrating; for few hours only but celebrating indeed.

No occasion but my life calling a celebration nevertheless; a glass or two of happiness with fancy names and appealing colors.

.
.
.

Rajveen, and I have been friends since first year of my undergraduate program.

I never realized she is precious to me until she noticed my well hidden sulking face.

I wasn’t showing it, I was hiding my hurt from everyone intentionally—I had planned a night to cry and let it all out alone with no one knowing, when she poked me asking
‘ What is hurting me?’

That was my break from crying alone.

My confidence and good pretense is what holding me silent and calm, but that flaring nose of hers is what my undoing is.

I realized talking it out with her, who understands me, brings me relief and I couldn’t love her any more.

I might not be able to express it but the woman doesn’t have any flaw and has been bandaging mine ever since.

I knocked up on her door because the baby might be sleeping and since I don’t want to face her wrath.
I started to un-strap my sandals when a little voice from inside asked,
“Kon hai?”     *Who’s this?

I beamed to myself, “Kit-Kat wali mausi”
*Maternal aunt

Dhruv giggled and unlocked the door, “Maasi aap aa gye!”    *aunty you are here!

The moment the doors were opened he jumped on me, hugging me tightly.
Ruffling his hair I said,
“Oh my, you have grown so tall. How come?”

He giggle shyly at me,
“I am three and half years old because”

I laughed,
“Guess what I bought?”

“No kit-kat I know”
he laughed hearing my response

I handed the chocolate kit-kat out of the shopping bag and went inside the kitchen to keep the things I bought for his mom and his sister.

With Dhruv trailing behind I asked “Where’s your mother?”

“In room with my sister”

“In here”
she called from inside her bedroom, she was with her baby and was done feeding her, now in a process of making the baby burp.

Dhruv held his arms open for me to carry him, he loves it when he is being carried like a regular 3 year old.
Smiling I carried him in my arms and went to greet his mother.

I beamed when I saw my best friend waving giddily.

With a munching Dhruv in my arms I walked inside and sat across her, shifting her son on my lap now.

I blew her a kiss which she returned back at me, “How is my little Rishika doing?”

She smiled bright, looking at the little bundle of joy in her arms and said,
“she is fantastic but tiring sometimes”

“Hey! That’s my child you are talking about” I warned but laughed

Her son on my lap giggle looking at me, what he understood I couldn’t place my finger on it but it was adorable.

I ran my fingers in his soft baby hair.

“I am tired Sadhvi, all day long struggling. Entertaining both these little devils and their demon dad, there’s only five percent of me left inside.”
She whined in a little voice.

I pursed my lips to suppress my smile. I know she wasn’t complaining—she couldn’t.

Looking at her who was whining about all but smiling nevertheless, I was sure I want that too someday.

“Are you sure about going out tonight? Devang, can take care of them?” I asked squeezing Dhruv’s arms a little

He turned to face me and moved to feed me the chocolate, which I ate a little and Rajveen, beamed at her kid. He turned to feed her as well.

“This is my favourite chocolate”
he squealed and the baby in Rajveen’s giggled at her brother.

Rajveen involuntarily rocked her baby in her arms and said,
“You kidding me! I need this”
she insisted making a face

“I need to remember what is like to be myself, when I am not playing mother”

I laughed, “Ofcourse you do”

“I need a little time away from these monsters”

I laughed once again. Dhruv on my lap almost shocked looked at his mother asking, “I am a monster?”

“No honey, mom was talking about your dad” I said running a hand through his head to which Rajveen snorted

“you are just his spawn my baby”
she cooed at him

The new word went into Dhruv’s deaf ears and he went back to gladly munching on his chocolate.

Thanking god mentally I glared at his mother, which in response she shrugged

“It’s not like I called them this the first time.”

I sighed.

I was dying to have this all.

___________________

So this was Sadhvi, for you.
How does she sound?
The story is going too lovely in my head and i am writing like crazy these days.

Read Sadhvi and tell her how is she!!

Comment and let me know. I would really love to know your views of her.

If I am not going to get the same number of likes than the reads, there wouldn't going to be another update anytime soon.

Make me smile and hit the 🌟
With love
Ankita 🐿️

  ** Romance alert**