“You looked at me like you were sorry for me.”
“Iwassorry for you. Your rude, entitled behaviour made me think, wow, what a waste of a man.”
He chuckled bitterly. “I thought you were sorry for my heart attack, for my weakness.”
“Nilay,” she stepped closer to him. “An angina is not a weakness. It’s not anything that stops you, or even slows you in life. It’s a momentary pause, to remind you of what matters the most. Your body, and more than that, your mind.”
His head dipped, and his gaze met hers. The moment between them fell silent.
“I see it. I know it. And as a woman whose job makes her meet hundreds of people like you, I am authority enough to say that heart disease, even at this ripe old age…”
He smiled.
“Is not a red flag. It’s a blip on the roadmap. And it’s god’s grace, because anginas at younger ages are difficult to sustain. You sustained it, and have a heart that is back to regular programming without a glitch.”
“Thanks to you.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“Mmm,” he nodded, but his tone was one of disagreement.
“What is your best moment?” She asked.
“The one that’s about to come.”
“Today or generally?”
“Generally.”
“I like that answer. That’s the spirit…!”
Water dribbled down her forehead and to her nose. Ritu looked up, and tiny droplets were falling from the sky.
“Ola pade chhe! Ola![17]”
“Run! These might be hailstones!” He took her hand and began to rush down the street. The rain started to pelt, not hail-like hard but ice-like cold. Ritu bent into herself, trying and failing to cover her head from the onslaught. He ran faster, pulling her along.
“Slow, slow,” she warned. His heart didn’t need a sprint.
“I’m good, come here, Doctor,” he pulled her tight and wrapped her in his arm, guiding her down the next lane and turning corners at lightning speed. After one point, she stopped keeping track. Their feet and the wet road became a blur, rain thumping harder as he pushed her into an alley that smelt dank and muddy. The smell of earth after first rains, but cold, because it was winter. Ritu ran inside the gates of a haveli, finding shelter under the canopy of pillars of its verandah. The doors looked like they had been closed for decades.
“Phew,” she rubbed her hands together, whipping her face to dislodge the lock of wet hair clinging to her cheek. It wouldn’t whip away. Until warm fingers peeled it off her skin and replaced its cold embrace.
8. Jadoo Hai Tera Hi Jadoo, Jo Mere Dil Pe Chhane Laga
— RITU —
Ritu’s breath began to swell for a whole different reason. Her eyes rose, and met his. So close. Close enough for her to see that he had a mole just under his right eye. A dot. A blip. Long, thick, wet lashes blinked, and it was hidden. They rose, and it was back. Water dripped on her face and she squinted.
When Ritu glanced up again, he was clawing his hair back from his forehead — his wet hair that had dripped over her face. Had they come that close?
Something moved on her cheek. His thumb. She couldn’t breathe.
“Nilay.”
“Hmm.”
His lips fell open. Only a smidge. Inviting her eyes there. Two perfect teeth peeped from between them. He had the fullest lips for a man, hidden beneath that beard but now shining for her. A beacon. Try as she might, she couldn’t look away from them. His breaths, warm and deep, they came from between them.
