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Diwali or Holi?
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Also, I wanted to know...are you guys liking Ekaksh's character? What do you think about him?
EKAKSH
The night was calming.
The air on the balcony felt cool against my face, like a soft hand.
I leaned against the railing.
A strange calm had settled inside me not the loud kind that rushes in, but the quiet one that arrives like a tide and stays.
I closed my eyes and let it sit in my chest, warm and still.
And then, like a whisper, she came to my mind.
My Sitara.
The temple.
The first time I saw her in that bridal red saree.
I had seen her in red before... in my mind. Back in college, when I started falling for her, I used to imagine her as a bride and then scold myself for being foolish.
In those daydreams, she was always glowing, surrounded by light. But this morning, when I saw her for real, the world stopped moving for a second.
I just wanted to stare at her without even blinking.
She looked divine... the red saree caught the sunlight and turned to fire.
The sindoor on her forehead looked sacred, like it belonged there before she was even born.
Her bangles chimed softly when she moved, the temple bells echoed around her, and everything...the chants, the smoke, the flowers... blurred behind her face.
She looked like a goddess, too pure to touch.
My throat had gone dry, and all the words I ever wanted to say to her died right there.
I loved her for so long.
No...even love is a small word. But I was too much of a coward to call it love back then. Or I was just scared to confess, maybe because I knew...her reply would shatter my heart.
So, I let myself live in my delusional world. Where she was mine.
I used to picture her as a bride and then laugh at myself. I used to tell myself to stop dreaming. Because Sitara loved Kabir.
And she looked happy with him. They had plans, a future, a life I was never part of. So I told myself to forget. To move on. I learned to carry her memory quietly, like a pebble in my pocket... small, heavy, and always there.
But destiny...it seems, likes to play games.
Five years passed.
And then suddenly, the woman I once loved from a distance...the woman I once tried to erase from my heart...is standing beside me, as my wife.
I chuckled shaking my head.
Fucking fate.
It's cruel. And unpredictable.
She has lost Kabir. I still remember her face at her wedding function, the day I saw her after years...she was glowing even in that dim light..I saw the glow on her face.
But today...that emptiness in her eyes, the way she stared at the sacred fire like she was remembering another one.
She looked lost. And I knew, even as I sat beside her in that mandap, that she was not seeing me. She was seeing him. Kabir.
The man she loves. The man fate has taken away.
The calm wind brushed through my hair. This penthouse has always been my escape...from my father, from the noise, from myself.
Whenever anger got too loud, whenever sadness got too heavy, I came here.
This place was mine. Big, quiet, and lonely. Always lonely.
Sometimes, I used to stand in this very spot and wonder what it would feel like to have Sitara here... to hear her anklets, her laughter, her voice breaking the silence.
I used to imagine her walking around, her saree brushing the floor, her smile lighting up the walls. And now, after all these years, she is really here.
When she stepped into the penthouse for the first time, I swear I could feel the air change.
Even the soft sound of her anklets filled the house with life. She looked around the living room with those big, curious eyes...part wonder, part fear.
The lights reflected in them, making her look even more fragile. She reminded me of a small, frightened kitten, trying to understand where she has been brought.
I am grateful to my mother.
She stood by Sitara, spoke gently to her, tried to make her feel like she belongs here.
But my father... even thinking of his words made my jaw tighten. The insults, the accusations ...against Sitara, against her unborn child...still burns in my ears.
That day, I made a promise to myself... I would never step back into that house where Sitara would be disrespected. I would keep her and the baby safe here. In this home. Our home.
I looked at the sky again, my fingers tightening around the railing.
When she entered the room, she looked around, eyes wide and a little angry. I could see the tension in her jaw, the mistrust in her stare.
This bastard Nikhil is such a scoundrel. I had clearly told him to not pull any stunt but he didn't listen.
Sitara probably thought I had done it all to mock her. But when I told her it was Nikhil's idea, I saw her shoulders relax instantly.
The anger melted. She even looked a little embarrassed. I found that so adorable that I had to look away.
I knew she wouldn't be comfortable sharing a room with me. I didn't want her to be.
Before she came, I had already shifted all my things to the guest room.
The old Ekaksh would have been careless about such things. The old me had hurt her before, scared her, said things that still makes me ashamed. But I am not that man anymore.
I would never let her flinch because of me ever again.
A faint smile came to my lips again. I could still hear the echo of her anklets, still see her standing in that decorated room, small and uncertain.
The image would not leave my mind... her eyes wide, her lips parted as if she was trying to find her place in this new world. I wanted to reach out and tell her she is not alone. That this time, she doesn't have to be brave all by herself.
This baby... our baby. Surely, not mine by blood, but in every way that matters. I have already accepted it in my heart.
This child is a piece of her, and that is enough. I would protect them both... from my father, from Kabir's father, from this cruel world, even from their own fears if I could.
I would never let Sitara feel afraid in this house. I would never let her feel unwanted. I would wait for her to heal, to smile, to breathe freely again.
I would learn how to be gentle, how to hold love without breaking it. I would be steady, patient, and kind.
"Sitara..." I whispered her name...into the wind, and I know that whatever comes next, I would spend my life keeping that name safe.
.
.
The next morning, sunlight slipped through the curtains waking me up.
For a moment, I just lay there, staring at the ceiling, letting the silence of the house settle inside me.
It felt different now. Softer and warmer. Because she is here.
The thought itself made me smile.
I got up, changed into a fresh tee and track pants, and walked to the kitchen.
The cook, Raju..a young guy my mother had hired years ago was already there, arranging things neatly on the counter. He looked up in surprise when he saw me walk in.
"Sir, you are awake early." He said, voice unsure.
"I will be making breakfast today." I said casually, opening the cupboard.
"S-Sir? You mean you will cook?" He asked, looking shocked.
"Yes," I said, glancing at him. "Just tell me where everything is kept."
He blinked at me like I had announced I was flying to the moon. But I wouldn't blame him.
It was a fair reaction. I had never even made tea in my life. My mother had kept him here because she knew whenever I stayed alone, I would live on outside food.
But today was not just another day. Today, I wanted to cook for my wife.
I didn't know what she likes for breakfast. I thought of making toast and an omelette...something simple... but then I remembered reading that pregnant women often couldn't stand the smell of eggs in the first trimester.
Sitara is in her third month. I didn't want to risk making her uncomfortable.
So, I decided on aloo paratha with curd...simple, safe and homely.
I started mixing the boiled potatoes, adding spices, salt, and coriander like I saw in the recipe video. Raju stood beside me, watching like I was disarming a bomb.
"Sir," he said hesitantly, "you have added... a little too much salt."
I looked down at the bowl...the salt crystals sparkled like a snowfall gone wrong.
"Why didn't you stop me earlier?" I snapped, glaring at him.
He flinched.
"Sir, I-"
Frustration flared in my chest. I wanted it to be perfect, but now I ruined it. I slammed my palm on the counter, the sound echoing in the kitchen. Raju stepped back, nervous.
"Sir, it's okay, we can fix it-"
But I was not listening. My jaw was tight, anger burning inside me, not at him..at myself.
But suddenly, in the middle of that silence, I heard it... the soft sound of anklets.
My head shot up. Eyes already dying to get a glimpse of her.
Sitara was coming down the stairs carefully, one hand on the railing, her other hand holding her dupatta.
"Sitara!" I rushed to her. "Why didn't you call me if you needed something? You should not climb stairs without support."
She looked surprised, her soft eyes blinking at my sudden concern.
"I just wanted to come down." She said in her calm voice.
Only then did I really look at her...and for a second, my heart stopped.
She was wearing a simple pink salwar suit, the dupatta loosely wrapped around her neck. Her hair was open and wet, droplets clinging to the strands, and I could smell the faint sweetness of her shampoo.
Her skin looked fresh, glowing. The mangalsutra rested gently against her collarbone, the vermillion line on her forehead a bright stroke of faith. She looked beautiful...quietly, effortlessly beautiful.
I forced myself to look away before my thoughts wandered. Holding her hand, I guided her down the last few steps carefully.
"Sit on the couch," I said softly. "I will bring your breakfast."
She smiled faintly.
Something she rarely does and my heart skipped a beat again.
"I have been sitting all morning. I want to walk a bit. I will come to the kitchen." She said.
I swallowed hard. The kitchen. Great.
She would see the disaster.
Before I could stop her, she was already walking toward it.
Raju quickly straightened up, wiping his hands on a towel.
"Good morning, ma'am." He said, bowing slightly.
Sitara smiled politely.
"Good morning."
I glared at Raju from behind her, silently warning him not to say anything stupid. He seemed to understand because he immediately said.
"Breakfast will be ready in ten minutes, ma'am. I am preparing aloo paratha. Would you like something else?"
Sitara shook her head, still smiling.
"No, that's fine." She said.
I sighed quietly. Raju saved me.
But a small part of me ached. I wanted to cook for her...just once... something made by my own hands.
Trying to push that thought away, I walked up to her.
"Would you like to take a walk in the garden?" I asked.
She looked up, surprised, then nodded gently.
"Yes."
I led her outside.
The morning air was cool and fresh. The garden stretched wide...rows of marigolds, lilies, hibiscus, and violets swaying lightly in the breeze.
Sitara's eyes softened as she looked around.
Sunlight kissed her skin, making her glow. She slipped off her slippers and walked barefoot on the grass.
I watched her quietly as she bent to touch a flower. The way her fingers brushed the petals was so tender...it made something stir inside me.
"Did you plant these yourself?" She asked suddenly, turning to me.
Her voice startled me...it was the first time she had initiated a conversation.
I straightened, feeling oddly excited, and tried to sound casual.
"Yeah." I said, walking toward her. "Planted them a few months back. I like gardening."
She nodded, smiling faintly.
"They're beautiful." She muttered softly.
I felt my heartbeats betraying me. I am sure she could hear them...they were thudding so loudly against my chest.
I tried to calm myself and act normal.
"Do you like planting?" I asked after few seconds.
Her lips curved into a slow, real smile...the kind I had not seen in years. My heart stumbled.
"I love it." She said softly. "Since I was a child. Our home was in the middle of the mountains. My father made a small garden for me...we used to plant seasonal flowers and vegetables together. Maa used to wat--"
Her voice broke suddenly. She stopped speaking as if she suddenly realised what she said.
I saw her eyes shimmer. She turned her face away, pretending to look at a hibiscus bush, but I could tell... she was holding back tears.
My chest tightened. I wanted to reach out, to tell her she didn't have to hide her pain, but I didn't.
Instead, I tried to distract her.
"You see that violet flower?" I said, pointing toward a cluster of blooms. "I planted those when I was sick last year. Took me the whole day, but I refused to stop until I was done."
Her eyes flicked toward me, curiosity replacing sadness.
"I think the flower paid me back by growing this beautifully." I joked, and she actually smiled.
"That's Vinca rosea." She said softly, bending to look closer. "I planted that too... back home."
"Really?" I asked, smiling despite myself.
She nodded. Her eyes had a soft glow now. I asked what flowers she liked most, and for the first time, her face lit up with life.
"I love daisies." She said, eyes sparkling. "They are simple but so full of life. And jasmine... the smell reminds me of summer nights in the hills. And tulips... I have never grown them, but I always wanted to. My father used to tell me they need care, gentle sunlight, and patience. He used to say I am like that too."
As she spoke, her hands moved while describing, her eyes alive with memories, her voice lighter.
I watched her...not the words, not the flowers..but her. The way she smiled, the tiny crease near her eye, the warmth returning to her face. For the first time in years, I saw her like she used to be...Sitara, not the shadow of her grief.
I wanted that moment to last forever. I wanted to capture it in my phone and stare at it all day long.
My heart felt full and calm, like the morning air. I silently prayed that someday, I wold be able to give her back that joy...fully, freely.
.
.
After breakfast, I went upstairs and got ready for work. I wore a dark suit and tie.
When I came downstairs, Sitara was sitting on the couch, reading a magazine. She looked up and I smiled slightly.
"I have an important meeting." I said, straightening my cufflinks. "I will be back in a few hours. The maids are here...they will take care of everything. Don't walk too much, don't do anything tiring. Just rest, okay?"
She nodded quietly.
"Okay."
I lingered for a second longer than I should have, memorising her calm face. Then, with a deep breath, I left the house.
The day at the office was long, full of numbers and voices I barely heard. I finished the meeting as quickly as I could. My mind was somewhere else... at home, wondering if she had eaten, if she was resting. I knew Kabita Maa and Roshni were visiting her in the afternoon, which comforted me a little.
Still, I wanted to be with her. I wanted to see her smile again.
By the time I returned, the sky had turned dark. My heart was rushing faster than my steps. After so long, I felt good while returning home, knowing someone was waiting for me.
I parked the car, walked through the gate, and pushed open the main door.
The moment I stepped inside, I froze.
My jaw tightened, my hands curling into fists.
And the calm I had carried all day shattered like glass...
_______________________________________
Who's this person? Any guesses?
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Thoughts about Ekaksh? His little efforts?
About Sitara? Her pain?
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