“Under the sofa.” He clarified. She narrowed her eyes at him.
“Look,” he grasped the back of the sofa behind her and lowered himself beside her. “I did enough damage these days, made you cry so much. I didn’t sleep last night, thinking about what’s the way forward. And I could think of nothing but a fresh start. You are not giving up on me…”
She shook her head.
“You are also not taking my bullshit lying down.”
She gave him a deadpan look.
“You are not letting me drown in whatever this is on the side.”
She shook her head.
“You leave me no choice but to do whatever I can in my current capacity to make this ok.”
“With sugary milk and coffee powder.” She repeated. His shoulders vibrated. Samar’s hand came to her jaw, and he pinched her cheek. “That sugary milk and coffee powder had become the highlight of my mornings.”
She rolled her eyes, trying to hold onto her righteous indignation a little longer. He pulled her face closer by the jaw and kissed her mouth, passing on some minty toothpaste freshness to her. She kissed him back, shamelessly accepting the comfort.
“I will shower and then have coffee.” She pulled back, working to remain unaffected. “I have to reach the Secretariat in an hour.”
“Ok. I’ll wait right here.” He pressed his forehead to hers. She pulled back and got to her feet. He caught her elbow — “Amaal.”
“Hmm?” She turned.
“This is the first morning we have woken up together in a house.”
“No. We woke up together for a whole week in my house in Jammu.”
“When you were sick and didn’t know day from night.”
Her mouth pressed into a thin line, not wanting to smile just yet. “Hmm. So?”
He glanced at the morning outside, then back up at her. “My hope amplifies seeing you under my roof, even after I botched up last night.”
“That’s because you are sure I won’t be going anywhere.”
“No.” He pulled her closer, setting his forehead on the crook of her elbow. “It’s because even if you went, you will still be the only morning I know.”
Amaal smiled, now that he wasn’t seeing her. She looked at the top of his hair, at his head bent to her elbow. How did humans fall in love with humans and sometimes disliked them but not enough to fall out of love? How did humans stay strong for each other even when the other was hell-bent on breaking the world down? How did humans fight wars for love on nothing but hope?
Maybe that was god. Amaal pressed her hand into his hair, bent down and buried her mouth into his scent. Manifesting in the endurance for love.
47. Recovering body and mind was an uphill battle…
Recovering body and mind was an uphill battle. He had been at the back-end of many a battle like that for others. For himself, this was the first one, even though he had suffered through one fourteen years ago as a prisoner of war. This battle was different. This battle was fought with somebody by his side. This battle not only wore him out every night but also wounded the woman beside him from time to time. But every morning, the sun rose. And every morning, Amaal rose with it. Ready again.
After their initial hiccups, they had slipped into a routine of life together with surprising ease. It didn’t happen instantly, but the fact that she was at work all day now and not looking at him botching up and failing and sometimes falling like a reptile on his physiotherapy, helped.
Some days it felt like he was recovering, and then by night he would regress. One morning he would be moving his knee without a single creak, the next evening he would be limping so bad that the steps between the bedroom and the bathroom looked impossible.
It was a hell of its own kind, and Amaal bore most of its brunt, even when he tried to curb his mind and his tongue. Either she was pushing herself into the line of fire or firing back, provoking him. He was grateful that she was away to the Secretariat for majority of the day through the weekends too nowadays.
The bell rang and he finished rubbing the towel over his wet hair. Even the rubbing happened in bursts, because his wrist wouldn’t bend. Samar set the towel down and limped to the door, wondering who it would be at 7 in the evening.
He adjusted the waistband of his loose shorts and tightened the drawstring, still not being able to fill his old clothes with so much fat and muscle loss. He grabbed his specs from the side table, put them on and opened the door.
“Look at you, weren’t you in some accident just yesterday?” Begumjaan leaned in playfully, entering the house with her hands full. Samar quickly reached for them out of habit but felt his back pull.
