The room was shrouded in darkness. In a flash I opened my eyes and stared around blankly. With a support of an arm I propped myself up and switched on the bedside lamp. The room seemed to tip itself sideways and then right itself. Yes it was my room. Randheer was soundly sleeping beside me. I looked down towards myself and to my horror I was dressed in the soiled holi saree! I shifted my gaze back to him. Why he was all clean, dressed in one of his usual housecoat pyjamas, this time brown. Pushing the blanket aside, I leapt out of the bed, hastily switching on one more light and looked at myself in the mirror. Except my face which was more or less clean, I was all mucky with holi colours. This is unacceptable! What had happened yesterday?!

I glanced an eye outside the window, it was probably past midnight. I looked at the alarm clock on his bedside. Three in the morning. And I had not a wink of sleep in my eyes – only a slight throbbing pain on one side of my head. How long had I been sleeping? And why so? Why did no one wake me up? Why was I still in the stained holi attire?!
Not dallying for a second more, I took out a fresh salwar-kameez from my almirah and dashed into the bathroom for a long soapy bath.
I must have spent all but an hour in the bath. I tip-toed out of the bathroom and meandered around the dark silent room. It made me feel like a nighthawk which I certainly was not.
I noted I had been sleeping on another bedsheet spread on my side of the bed. Thoughtful. Definitely my husband's doing. I folded and put it aside to be laundered.

I sat by the alcove, watching at the empty street pointlessly. I went into the study and picked up the book which I had been reading lately but gave up soon. I came back, snuggled into the bed, tried to sleep but abandoned the plan in a twinkling. However much I tried, I just couldn't sleep.

I took to pacing the room once again, trying to make sense of what I had seen after waking up. I tried and tried but couldn't recall anything accept that we were returning home after happily playing Holi.

And out of nowhere the alarm started ringing aloud. Now why was the alarm set for five in the morning?! Panicky, I hurried to shut it down lest Randheer would wake up. Turns out, I didn't know how it worked and it took me quite a while stop it.
No sooner had I victoriously placed the quietened-down clock back on the table, his arm pulled me onto the bed, tumbling over him to the other side. My heart leapt in my chest, looking into his sleepy eyes.
'Good Morning Amrit', he said lazily, with that 'I-steal-hearts' smile of his. I forgot what I had been mumbling in my mind all this while.
He leaned forward and touches his lips to mine. I slackened, closing my eyes. When I open then, I find him adoring me, as if to see his effect on me. I realised I had forgotten to breathe.

'Lagta hai waqt ko bhi aajkal dil-lagi hi soojhti hai!', he added huskily.
He lifted my fingers, interlacing his into them, grazing his thumb across my finger. We looked at our entwined fingers for a while, before he turned and sank in the crook of my neck. Breathing in his fading yet intoxicating ittar, I melted.
He half turned towards me. His nose brushed against mine. My eyes kept flicking to his lips. I felt every ounce my breath desert me. I caught his eye. He arched an inch closer to my face, giving another softer brush to my nose. I lowered my eyes. A thump in my heart. Slowly I looked up again and caught his lips in a deep kiss. 
Holding him close, I actually dozed off for quite some time.

When he roused, he propped his head upon his hand.
'Itni savere aap kyun uthi hui hain?', he asked with a questioning smile. I blinked, coming out of the reverie. Recalling everything I had to ask, I babbled incoherently. I didn't realise if I was making sense at all or not and he listened patiently like he had all the time in the world. (Well, he did have, for me.)

After a moment's pause, With puckered eyebrows, he said with a silly smile, 'Amrit, mere kaan shayad zara kamzor ho gaye hai. Aap na jaane kya kya keh gayi aur mujhe sunaayi diya ki aap mujhse bohot mohabbat karti hain'
I sighed with a deep red blush. 

'Aapne bilkul dhyaan nahi di na mere baaton pe!', I asked with a bashful chuckle.
'Itna bada ilzaam!', he defended. 'Aisa toh kabhi nahi ho sakta ji', he said as-a matter of factly.
I raised my eyebrows.
'Chaliye thik hai fir main aapke ek ek uljhan hal karta hoon.' And with every revelation, I just widened my eyes in shock.
'Kal aapne jo Mukund ke saath milkar jo mujhe panjebaazi mein harwaaya tha... uske badle Mukund ne mujhe bhang pilaa di thi. Aur toh aur mujhse zyaada bhaang anjaane mein aapne peeli thi holi mele mein. Fir kya hua woh toh main bhi nahi jaanta par hum din bhar sote rahe. Holi ki dawaat, Mummy-Bauji ki train sab chhoot gayi. Meri neend raat ko tooti. Pata chala ki Mummyji-Bauji dono behad naraaz the. Aur humse mile bina jaana unhe gawaraa bhi nahi tha, isiliye aaj subah ki ticktein banwaayi hai. Abhi chhae baje ki.'
'Haaye Ram! Inna sabkuch ho gaya?!', I asked bewildered.
He nodded with a sombre expression.
'Mar gaye!' I smacked my head. 

*

I walked down the steps nervously, stooped after a few steps and Randheer prodded me from behind. 'Chaliyee!', he exclaimed.
I turned towards him with an anxious face and proceeded down again. Did I hear a chuckle behind me? Nope, I'd probably imagined it. Mummyji and Neero Bhaiya stood near the suitcases, while Bauji sat on the sofa, tying his shoes laces – all set to depart. Mummyji had an extremely stern expression on her face, Bauji's was sombre. Oh why did I even agree to help Jijaji yesterday. Why?!

Meekly, I walked towards the door.
On noting me, Neero Bhaiya quickly asked with concern, 'Babyji bhaang utar gayi aapki? Nimbu paani banaa lau ?'
I gaped at him and shut my eyes in embarrassment. I could swear I had seen coils of smoke emerge from Mummyji's ears.
'Horrible', she mumbled irritably. I gulped and hung my head in shame.
'Awaara ladke karte hain aise harkatein!', she fumed. 'Aur mere bachche?! Kabhi socha bhi nahi tha maine!'

'M-mummyji', I stuttered. 'Humne jaan-moochh ke kuch nahi kiya', I mumbled. 'Mainu nahi pata tha-'
'Kya nahi pata tha?!', she demanded.
'K-ki usme b-bhaang hai', I replied faintly, staring the ground. I felt so stupid.
I peeked behind towards Randheer and he too was staring down cluelessly. I turned ahead in a flash.
'Holi waale din samhal ke rehna chahiye, itna toh pata hai na!', she asked brusquely.
'J-ji Mummyji', I meekly replied.
Mummyji continued, 'Tyohaar ka din aur tum dono-'
That's when Bauji gave a muffled chuckle which in a few turned into a fit of laughter.
Randheer clapped a hand to his head. Mummyji too glared at Bauji and chuckled. 
'Mainu maaf karo! Aur hasi roki nahi gayi mere se!', Bauji said, laughing away, coming towards me. I gaped at all of them open-mouthed. All this had been a hoax!
'Dekho Abha! Kaise dara diya tumne bacchi ko!', he brought an arm around me affectionately and patted my cheek.
'Ohji aap bhi na! Meri baat toh poori hone dete aap!', Mummyji sighed. 'Koi daraane ka iraada nahi tha mera!'
'Aap naraaz nahi hain?!', I asked in confusion.
'Puttar jinni daant khaani thi, isne te iske yaar ne khaali kal raat!', Bauji said, pointing towards Randheer. 'Terese thodi naraaz hona hai humne!'
'Aur nahi toh kya! Dono doston ne milke tumhe bhi fasa liya!', Mummyji fretted. 'Jo tabiyat bigad jaati toh?!'
'Yeh nainsaafi hai Bauji!', Randheer grumbled in pretence.
'Teri shakal se dikh raha hai, kitni nainsaafi hai. Abhi ye naatak do mint aur chalta toh tu khud hi rukwa deta!', Bauji brushed him off. Randheer stroked the back of his neck with an embarrassed smile.
'Main sacchi darr gayi thi', I mumbled with a chuckle.
'Oho! I'm sorry beta! Hum toh mazak kar rahe the!', Mummyji said dotingly, caressing my face.
'Arey kal tum dono poora din gaayab, aur itthe Mukund de bahaane vi khatm hone lage si', Bauji joked. 'Tumhaari Maa se inni zor ki fatkaar padi use ki aakhir sabkuch bataana hi pada use'
I and Randheer exchanged embarrassed smiles.
'Bas zyaada dhyaan rakhna dubaara kabhi aisa na ho! Kal toh hum dar hi gaye the', Mummyji said.
'Ji mummyji. Aage se aisa kabhi nahi hona hai!', I replied obediently.
'Acha chalo bacchon, humare ravana hone ka waqt ho chala hai', Bauji said.
'Dekhiye na Mummyji. Maine socha tha laddu ka bhog bhijwangi aapke saath. Par bana hi nahi paayi!', I said glumly.
'Koi baat nahi Amrit. Neero ne banaaye hai laddu. Filhaal tum haath jod lo. Agli baar bana dena!', she replied, taking a steel tiffin out of one of the bags.
I joined my hands reverently and quickly rushed for roli-chawal for their tilak, wishing them a happy and safe journey.

*


I was lay face down on my bed reading 'Madhushala' – revelling in the depth of the verses, marvelling at the mastery of weaving all of it in terms of 'madhushala', drowning in the beauty of it all, I read on.
I felt a tickle at the sole of my feet. I sat up in a flash withdrawing my legs and looked around. There was nothing there. Dubious, I returned to my book, laying face down again.
Randheer popped up kneeling on the floor before me. With a very difficultly surpassed smile,
I... ignored him.
'Aaj koi toh baat hai' he said softly. 'Chaand raat ke bajaaye aaj... subah-savere nikal aaya. Chaand ne kalam ki jagah aaj kitaab thaam li?'
With a strong resolve, I kept a straight face.
He placed his forearms flat on the bed and placed his chin upon it.
'Ji ye farzi khaamoshi ...raas nahi aa rahi'!, he said whimsically. 
I took in a breath, did not say a word, and went back to my book.
'sumukhi tumhara sundar mukh hi
mujhko kanchan ka pyaala'
Surprised I looked up, not masking my surprise. His eyes were closed. This was the poem I was reading.
'chhalak rahi hai jisme maanik
roop madhur maadak haala

main hi saaqi banta main hi
banta hoon peeni waala
banta hoon peeni waala', he continued with a smile.
With a blush, I half turned, lying on my back and hid my face behind the book .
He shifted and bent over my face. I moved the book slightly down, revealing my eyes.
'jahaan kahin mil baithe hum tum
wahin kayi ho madhushaala
jahaan kahin mil baithe hum tum
wahin kayi ho madhushaala',
he concluded lovingly.

I lowered my eyes, pink tinging my cheeks . A frangrant breeze rustle the bed curtains. We stared at each other for a moment.
'Kya chaand meherbaan hua?', he asked tenderly.
I bit my lip with a gentle nod. He looked down with a smile
He stood up and I too sat up to make space for him.
'Aapne... padhi hai? – Madhushala?', I asked, looking up.
'Ji! Kayi saal pehle. Iski kavitaein meri sabse pasandeeda kavitaon mein se ek hai!', he said in admiration. 'Par agar koi kavitaaon ka shauqeen saath ho, toh lafzon ki maza chauguna hi jaata', he added with twinkling eyes. 
I nodded with a bright smile.

We reclined against the bed's head, his one arm snugly around me, we spent the morning relishing poetry.

*

'Amrit main samajh gaya. Aap toh mujhe kuch sikhaana hi nahi chaahti.'
'Ji?', I asked in confusion. I had just come in the kitchen to prepare for breakfast. 
'Ji aur nahi toh kya!', he said seriously. 'Aapne waada kiya tha ki aap mujhe khaana banana sikhaayengi. Kya hua uska?! Badi jaldi bhool gayi aap!', he fretted.
I shut my eyes and bit my tongue.
'Dekha! Maine kaha na aap bhool gayi! Ab aap ki saza yeh hai ki aaj ka naashta main banaunga aur main jo banau jaisa banau, aapko khaana padega.', he said, crossing his hands.
I started to protest, 'Magar-'
'Agar-magar kuch nahi. Aapka rasoi main aana bhi mana hai aaj', he said firmly.

I stood at the kitchen door while Randheer went ahead with his morning kitchen adventure.

'Tussi bana kya rahe ho?', I asked craning my neck curiously.
'Umm, dahi paranthe!', he said confidently, probably searching for flour everywhere.
'Atta wahaan daraaz par sabse bade dibbe mein hai', I said pointing to left.
'Oh! Shukriya!', he replied with a dazzling smile. 'Par aap madad nahi kar sakti meri', he complained.
'Acha acha thik hai!', I reassured him. 
He took out some flour in a high-hipped platter and cautiously added very small amounts of water to it and almost wrestled with the flour to prepare the dough. Occasionally he looked up with a know-it-all air. I supressed my chuckles and made sure I did not shoot any instructions. That was what he wanted, that was what he would get.
Soon his rather sticky, slimy dough was ready, he was rather proud of but seeing me giggle, he realised something was wrong. Studying it for a while, he stood there stroking his chin and soon sprinkled some more flour on it and kneaded it a bit more. Good!

He chopped onions and I was bundle of nerves here, fervently wishing he would not cut his fingers. As far as I could see, the onions were sliced very unevenly but he had managed to do so without hurting himself. Thank God!

Next, after a long search for the rolling pin and board, he got to work.
Given his swagger, he could easily pass as a chef. The only problem was, my poor husband didn't know how to cook. I chuckled. He rolled the dough into the most ridiculous shapes I had ever seen. It had been extremely difficult to keep my laughter at bay. Ki karaan, unha utte bada pyaar aa raha si!
I just earnestly said 'Tawa bhi chadha dijiye!'
'Ji ji main jaanta hoon', he said, visibly startled, now looking for the tawa.
While I looked at him from the door, with a smile and sigh, he was flipping the rolled paranthas in his hands with ease, having fun. He was faring fairly well.

He had managed to light the stove after a good fifteen minutes of struggle and palced his first parantha on it. 
'Ab bas aapka naashta taiyaar hi samjhiye!', he exclaimed like an excited child. I nodded eagerly.
But he tried to turn the parantha with his bare hands as he must have seen everyone doing and before I could warn, he burnt his hand.

That was the last straw. I stormed in inside the kitchen, grabbed his hand and walked him out.
'Amrit, sab theek hai. Bas ban gaye-'
'Ek shabd nahi kahoge tussi', I warned him, putting his hand under running tap water.
'Khaana banana hai aapko par bina seekhe!', I muttered. 'Haath se tawe pe paraanthe kaun palat-ta hai?!'
Meekly he said, 'Aapsab-'
'Maine kaha na aap kuch nahi kahenge!', I rebuked again. After a pause I said, 'Hume saalon ka tajurba hai. Aur aapko toh ek din ka bhi nahi hai!'
I rushed for first-aid.
'Inni laaparwahi?!', I chided him, making him sit on the sofa and kneeling before him.
'Aage se aapki koi zidd nahi maan'ni hai maine!' I said, stroking it gently, blowing on it. I took out antiseptic cream and smeared on it. 'Dekho kaise haath laal ho gaya hai!', I said worriedly.
He did not say anything while I treated his burn silently.

'Amrit?'
'Hmm?'
'Aaj taareekh kya hai?'
'Chaubees ... march?', I looked up at him with raised eyebrows.
'Ye taareekh yaad rakhunga main. Aaj pehli baar daant lagaayi hai aapne mujhe!', he said whimsically.
My frown slowly turned into a defeated smile. He smiled sheepishly. 
I slackened and smacked his arm gently. 'Ouch', he exclaimed pretentiously and we shared a hearty laugh.

Back in the kitchen, I helped him with the breakfast. We made toast and baked beans too. Well that was the only thing he knew how to make – an English Breakfast which they used to make frequently back in London. He tried to take a bite in amidst preparation and I hit his hand with a strict no at which he frowned. With every accomplishment, he bowed gracefully and I beamed.

He took both my hands and spun me into the center of the kitchen. Then tugging me close, he put my arms around his neck, his around my back, looking into my eyes. I felt my cheeks burning under his gaze.
He leaned in, humming softly in my ear. It was no melody I recognised, but it didn't matter. It's beautiful all the same. I slowly swayed around my kitchen, his nose at my temple.