The Art Of Love ✓

11.2|रूहदारी • अमन और अमान|

|Roohdari • Aman & Amaan|

The grand mahogany door was opened by a well-dressed maid in her twenties. Ira's eyes first landed on the golden chandelier hanging proudly on the ceiling similar to a tomb. The living hall was decorated with antique as well as modern furniture. It was a magnificent mansion, but for her, a golden cage. Just a cage.

Amaan wrapped his arm around her waist and entered his so-called home with his wife.

He was observing her reaction to the luxury that was surrounding them. But there was no fascination in her eyes much to his disappointment.

"Do you like your new home?" He asked lovingly.

"No." Her reply was blunt.

It irked him to say the least. But he remained quiet. Obviously, she would be angry with the circumstances in which she had to marry him. So he let it go.

★★★

Ira sat on the bed. It was soft and comfortable as compared to her old bed in the orphanage. But she doubted if she will get a peaceful sleep on this bed.

She leaned back on the headrest and closed her eyes. Trying to seek some comfort. But the space beside her dipped. Amaan held her palm gently in her hands and kissed the back of it.

Ira opened her eyes and looked at him. Her face was bare of any emotion.

"Talk to me, Ira." His voice had a vulnerability. He wanted her affection, just like old times. But it seemed like she was no more affectionate towards him.

"I am tired." Saying so she freed her hand from his gentle grip and laid down on the bed moving her face away from his sight.

He didn't want to admit but he was hurt. Hurt at her ignorance and insensitivity.

★★★

A few kilometres away from Amaan's mansion, there was a street. A street of poors. Where poor people lived. Where poverty lived. But where honesty flourished.

Roohi was complaining to her Chanda Mama (moon) about Amaan.

"Chanda Mama, aapko pata hai uss kaminey Amaan ne Ira ko usse shadi karne ki shart rakhi, orphanage ka karza utaarne ke badle mein. Mujhe toh naa kabhi-kabhi yakeen hi nahi hota ke woh mere Aman ka judwa bhai hai." She was pouring all her anger in front of her beloved moon uncle.

"Kyun? Meri aur Amaan ki shakal dekh kar bhi shak hota hai hamare bhai hone par?" Aman sat beside her on the woven bed placed on the terrace.

"Tum yahan kya kar rahe ho?" She narrowed her eyes at him.

"Ab chand par sirf tumhara copyright toh hai nahi. Socha ke mai bhi tumhare Chanda Mama ke sath thodi guftgu karlu. Aur maine abhi-abhi kisi ko "mera Aman" kehte huye suna." He teased her.

"Haan, ho tum mere. Hazaar baar tumse pyar ka izhaar kiya hai maine." She didn't shy away while confessing her love for him. She loved him, and could confess it again and again.

"Tumhare izhaar karne se mai tumhara ho gaya?"

"Nahi, lekin mai toh tumhari ho gayi naa."

"Abhi bhi vaqt hai. Kisi aur ko phasa lo. Mera pyar tumhein marne ke baad hi milega." He was literally warning her.

"Kyun?"

"Meri umar likhte vaqt likhne wale ki kalam toot gayi, aur mai ek adhoori umar ke sath paida ho gaya."

"Aur tumhe yeh kisne bataya?" She put her chin on her knees and folded her arms around knees as well.

"Jisne meri umar likhi hai. Jisne yeh duniya banayi hai." He looked above, at the unending black night sky.

"Kaafir ke muh se khuda ki baatein achhi nahi lagti."

"Bhagwan mein yakeen hai mujhe. Bas khudko dharmon se door rakhna chahta hoon."

"Toh tum keh rahe ho ke tum marr jaoge?" She concluded his words.

"Marte toh sab hai, bas mein thoda jaldi mar jaunga." His voice had a fascination. As if he fascinated death. And he did fascinate it. Because death was not just the end of life. It was freedom from chaos surrounding our soul.

"Aise mazaak mat kiya karo. Darr lagta hai." Her cheerful tone turned glum listening to him, who talked about death as if it was a nearby city and he will return from it.

"Chalo phir mazaak hi samajh lo." He ended the conversation on death because he knew she won't believe his words. No one believed his words.

"Acha suno, Ira khush toh hogi naa? Amaan ke sath?" Just few minutes ago she was cursing Amaan for marrying Ira in return of paying the loan of the orphanage and now she was worried for their marital life. At the end, she cared about Ira as a sister and Amaan, no matter what, was her childhood friend. She never wanted his destruction, especially when Ira is married to him.

"Haan bhi, aur naa bhi." He was playing with his words. Not giving out the whatever he knew, because again she won't believe him.

"Amaan galat raaste par chal raha hai, uske hath khoon se rangey hai. Par kya khudko yeh tassali de sakti hoon ke Ira ka sath usse badal dega?"

"Khudko jhoothi tassaliyaan dena band kardo, Roohi. Jahaa tak baat rahi Amaan ki, sudhar jayega. Lekin..." He was true while saying Amaan will reform, but...

"Lekin kya?"

"Lekin tab tak mai bohat door chala jaunga. Aur shayad tum bhi mere pichhe-pichhe aa jaao." He smiled, sadly.

"Kya paheliyon mein baatein kar rahe ho! Kahaan chale jayenge hum?"

"Jahaa sirf hum dono honge."

"Aman, tumhari pyar bhari baatein bhi mujhe kabhi-kabhi daraa deti hai. Seedha-seedha kaho naa hum shadi karlenge." She blushed thinking about their future together.

"Maine yeh toh nahi kaha." Because he never meant that.

"Aman! Zehar se bhi zehreeli baatein karte ho tum. Chup-chap shakal gum karo apni, varna mai tumhe chhat se neeche dhakka de dungi."

"Marna toh hai hi. Chalo tumhare haathon marr jata hoon."

Roohi's eyes filled with tears of... God knows what. She was sad, irritated, angry, scared and so on.

She hugged him. Because even if he was the reason of her confused emotions. He was her only comfort.

•••••••••••••
A short update.
Well, when I had first planned this story, I had decided to write only 3 chapters for it. And maybe I will do the same.

And anyone interested to make aesthetics for the characters?

I am in no mood to make aesthetics, but I really want aesthetics for this story.