"That boy, Pran, he had come to clarify from you if it was true. He also received a postcard like this. I forbade him till the matter was confirmed to you. And it–" Chanchal curled her lips, lowering her eyes.

"It eventually had to happen. It was meant to reveal no matter how hard you tried to hide." Faajal grasped the younger's palm and hardened her grip. "Why don't you write back?"

Faajal shook her head in denial. "He obeyed his ailing mother's wishes, and I shall not question his decision." Her voice quivered. She took a shuddering breath before settling her lungs and resting her head on Chanchal's lap. Despite the mature words for convincing herself and others, she couldn't but shrivel into dust. Those reveries they had painted now remained as naive yearnings. He would still return. She might see him daily at the studio. They still might near and exchange words, but not as what they had been earlier. He might be close, yet too far.

"Why did you scold, Pran, by the way?"

"Oh! I couldn't believe it all. And then, your state—He is an unsentimental fool!"

"Don't call him that......"

"How did he manage to get in the studio?" Chanchal wheezed, stroking Faajal's hair.

"He's talented and smart, and dazzling....just like him."

"I guess, all men are bound to torment us. See baba, then–" she paused. "Though he was obliged."

"Let's not blame him. And other than that, is my life only bound to these? I have so many things to prove. I am enough alone." Since childhood, her only companions were her mother and sisters. In adolescence, she lost two of her sisters to envy and malice. Yet, she possessed a few, who understood her, and the struggle she went through day to night. She would keep her willpower set, no matter what adversity loomed over.

"He was a warm memory now, nestled in my heart."

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

4 days later,

Today was announced for the film's opening. There was no letter from Yusuf on whether he could attend or not. And for, Asad had been eating everyone's head.

Faajal half-wished he was here. Apart from their past, she hoped to watch this special film beside him, as a friend, as a co-star.

Gurbani had urged her to purchase a new saree for the event. Faajal declined. There was no point in wasting money on clothes during this inflation. And this wasn't the only cause. Who would want colours after heart had been bruised and promises broken?

Faajal combed her hair and secured the loose strands with hairpins. The estimated time was 5.00 pm, and now was only 2.00 pm, but she had finished her getup almost per Ravinder's insistence. Meher entered her room and smiled, nearing behind. "You look ravishing." The grey-tinted saree on Faajal was a heirloom from their nani, with a simple embroidery of tendrils on the rim. Gurbani had preserved it with great effort as the final remnant of her mother. 

An acrid snicker quirked Faajal's lips. "You always do, di." Meher twisted on the radio.

Yaad aa rahe hain, guzre hue zamane.

Yeh dukh bhare afsaane, rote hue tarane.

Kisko suna rahe hain, woh yaad aa rahe hain.

Faajal was inserting a bangle through her wrist, but her mind had wandered to wrenching recalls—those stolen moments of savouring rasgulla, his light-hearted taunts, that lenient laugh, those captivating pupils flashed before. She thawed into the familiar memory lane where countless stars spellbound her, showing the tapestry she fought long to erase.

One by one, her other hand slipped bangles through her wrist while her mind remained immersed between the lines of the song. When she was to put the last one, it snapped in half and scratched her skin. She hissed, dropping the broken bangle and ran a thumb on the raw slash, now filled with blood. "Oh my!" Meher rushed and sucked the wound.

"Can you switch off the radio now, Meher? I don't like this song." faltered Faajal.

Meher fired a questioning look but didn't protest. Faajal pasted turmeric on the tear and put on a silver chain and a pair of tiny jhumkas. Ravinder waited in the living room. Faajal reached him. "I am ready, baba."

He angled his look at her. She could decipher a slim surprise on him though he commented nothing. "The taxi is outside."

They entered the yellow cab hired for the first time. It was addressed as 'The First-Class Cab' for a built-in air conditioner and sleek interior. Unlike the general seats she had been used to in trains, buses and vans, it felt puffier and more comfortable.

Ravinder rolled the windows shut and they began riding for 'Kewal Theatres' where the event was fixed.

                                                            ─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Their cab stopped before the moderate-sized two-story building. Few heads swarmed before the gateway. The headboard was rimmed with fairy lights, the title 'Dastaan-e-Mayoosi' flickered. Asad scrambled to the car door and opened it. "Welcome, welcome!"

Faajal bent in a less graceful bow. "Just grab a seat at the front row in hall 3." He chirped and flew. Ravinder and Faajal walked inside hall 3 and occupied their seats. The screen was moderate-sized yet larger than the ones she had watched before. The hall could sustain 60, at least.

Ravinder walked off to the crew hustling among themselves and adjusting the projector. Faajal glanced sideways. Her eyes skimmed for someone impossible to have by her side, now. But, who could stop the unseasoned heart now? She pulled the aanchal of her saree in her hold and peeped out the entrance.

Seconds passed. Her vain search provided nothing but hollowness gaping in her chest. Her nails almost tore through the delicate saree. These mere things might not matter much to others, but these formed her world that was now shattering and fading. She sniffled back. Relapses into the past would grant her nothing than anguish and bitterness. These wouldn't enable her to advance. Not everything must be permanent as planned!

Suddenly, Asad's cry trailed in her way. She glanced up to see such a sight she couldn't recover from. He was here. Yusuf was here.

A/N: Well, such a short chapter, but author is so exhausted right now! I ain't feeling good both mentally and physically. So, I am reading books to keep myself motivated. I am sorry, if this and the earlier chapter didn't feel good, but I shall edit them out, soon!  But, I am happy because our 'Sex Symbol' is back! {Don't mind that word...Feeling a bit WILD!}🌚😅

If you enjoy, shower your love, pretty people....

XoXo, 

Luna