Sach hote Khwaab

Baatein

The first day into my marriage and I was literally finding it difficult to breathe around him.
Randheer was leaving no opportunity to hang around me but what do I do expect fluster and falter after... last night.
Last night - Haaye Rabba! The very thought of it made my heart thump so hard.
To add to this, I had actually discussed the nomenclature of 'suhaag raat' with him back then and had conveniently ignored his tiny reaction to it as well. How very ignorant and stupid of me?!

Over and above that he was looking so exceedingly handsome in that off-white pathaani! Unha-to' nazrein kive hataavaan?!

As the morning progressed, I quelled down the feeling a bit. I was a bit more at ease.
I hadn't stayed back in the room to sit in the alcove. I had stayed back because I was waiting for him.

After lunch, I had been sitting downstairs with everybody. Randheer had disappeared after lunch. I was told Bauji had sent him for some work. Bauji-Mummyji, Mamiji-Mamaji themselves weren't at home.
I was back in my room.
This sounded so different- felt so different.

I took a seat on my jhula turning to one side. The windows of the alcove were open. I opened the windows to the right of the jhula as well. The sun was setting, painting the room a silken orange.

'Savere se toh mere aas paas ghoom rahe the! Ab main yahaan aayi hoon to khud gayab ho gaye?!', I grumbled. But then I smiled again. It was silly to grumble about something this trivial! I hit my forehead slightly.

Bending my legs, I reclined against the suspending metal chains and reflected. It had been such a beautiful day.
With a satisfied smile, I shut my eyes for a siesta. The jhula was swaying lightly. The soft blowing wind, made me smile a bit wider.

I was woken up by a footsteps. Randheer had just walked in the room with two bags in his hand. Smiling to myself, I straightened, he realized he had woken me up.
'Oh. Maine jaga diya aapko! Maaf kar dijiye! Main toh bas-'
'Ari koi baat nahi. Main toh yoon hi araam kar rahi thi. Neend nahi aayi thi mainu!', I clarified.
'Aap sach keh rahi hain?', he asked unsurely.
'Haan Randheer !'

Putting my feet down, I shifted a bit, making space for him.
'Ye dekhiye!', he said, bending down to a bag near his feet. He pulled out a big frame out and showed it to me. It was my first painting. He had actually got it framed?!
'Ab bataiye issi kahan lagaaen?', he asked eagerly.
'Hum sacchi isse yahan lagayenge?', I asked unsurely, getting off the jhula.
'Haan Amrit! Tay hua tha na!'
'Ji, tay toh hua tha'
'Toh, yahan thik hai?', he asked gesturing towards the wall behind him, between the two windows, to the left of the Jhula. I nodded with a smile.
Taking off the painting which already hung there, above the mantle cabinet set, he said, 'Isse hum study mein laga denge!'
Fondly he hung my (or rather our painting) there. Even though it was just a simple painting, I simpered, well pleased with myself.

As I turned, I saw him taking out another frame from the bag.
'Vo Haveli waali tasveer hai?', I asked eagerly.
'Ji!', he replied with a bright smile and held it out to me. 'Ye bhi taiyaar hai!'
It was a beautiful beige coloured haveli - protruding lattice-work balconies, verandas and a garden upfront. Modern but traditional at the same time.
And now that's what a painting is supposed to look like - like it isn't one. It was so brilliant!

I was already embarrassed my painting, which Randheer had so keenly put up on the wall. I wasn't comparing them. That was out of question. But why is he so delighted at this childdish painting of mine?! He shouldn't be!
'Bohot khoobsurat hai Randheer!', I exclaimed. 'Aapko toh aadat hogi na taareefein sunne ki ! Aap toh itni achi painting karte hain!'
'Aisa nahi hai', he replied thoughtfully. 'Mukund, Mummyji- Bauji, yaar-dost ye toh kaafi taareef kiya karte the par jiski taareef sunni thi unse kabhi taareef sun hi nahi paaya!', he said with a trace of longing in his voice.
'Kisse?'
'Mere professor...Professor Basu'
'Par vo kyun bhala?', confused, I asked.
'Professor kabhi kisiki taareef nahi karte the. Ache se ache student ki bhi nahi. Unka maan-na tha ki professor ke taareef karne se us student ke mann mein ghuroor aa jaata hai ki unme koi baat hai, jaise vo kalaakar hain. Vo kehte the ki koi kisi ki kitni bhi taareef kyun na kare, tasveer banaane waale ko mann-hi-mann pata hota ki uski banai gayi tasweer mein kya kami hai, kahan behtari ki gunjaish hai.