All is Fair

Chapter 28

Rasheed's P.O.V.:

She finally looked away. The colour on her cheeks was subtle, but I had seen them. I could feel the same on my face as well. We were both flustered. What was going on? Why were we acting like a bunch of air headed teens in love?

 I couldn't help a sneaky peek. I was curious. Was she still blushing? Or was she annoyed? She had lowered her head, one hand shielding her face from view. I was annoyed. 

I put a hand atop her head. For no reason at all. She looked up, straight ahead, frozen in place. 

"Why didn't you tie your hair?" I asked, feeling more and more stupid. The awkwardness between us had reached peak levels. 

She patted her lap and the bed, not willing to look at me. "I… I've lost my hairband."

One more gust of the wind. I withdrew my hand from her head. The movement was cut short. She yelped in pain. A few strands of her hair had tangled up in my watch. My whole face felt hot. Where was the AC remote when you needed it?

She couldn't turn around to free her hair. But she slapped my hand, asking me to help her. I hurried to untangle her hair. But my hands suddenly experienced slight tremors. They were sweaty and it was getting difficult to handle the situation with one hand caught in her hair. I hurried to remove my watch, making a mental note to never wear a watch around her. I then used both my hands to free her hair. She seemed annoyed and embarrassed. When did we sit so close to each other? Were we seated that way the whole time? Or had we inched closer over the passing minutes?

I wanted to hide my face, maybe even dip it in a bowl of cold water. She probably felt the same way. She tucked her hair behind her ears. Then gathered all her hair to the other side. I froze, my throat going dry. 

I sat with my mouth open. She looked exquisite. Her slender, cream-white nape; her hair cascading down the other side. The way she had her face tilted down. She looked like a Mughal painting, given life. Everything about her was like a fever dream come true. I inched closer towards her, fascinated.

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Sanaa's P.O.V.:

What was wrong with me? Anything I had learnt about Carl Jung flew out the window. All I could think about was him. And the way he had looked at me, with an intense interest. I had felt the tremors in his hands when he had rushed to free my hair. It had been embarrassing, having my hair caught in his watch. But the way he had handled it, stole my heart.

I froze, eyes on my book. Why did I think that? Why would I say that his actions had stolen my heart? That was a silly thing to think.

All he did was something extremely normal. It was a small gesture. All he did was free my hair. Yes, but the way he had done it. Almost like it was a crisis situation. The way his hands shook and sweat glistened on his palm. It was obvious he was nervous. And the way he had looked away, at the ceiling. It was obvious he was shy. His gaze was on me again. I pressed my lips together, trying not to look at him. I didn't dare to breathe for a hot minute as he moved closer to me.

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Rasheed's P.O.V.:

Deepak burst into the room, unannounced. I clenched my jaws. He had the worst timing ever. I had been about to make my move.

'What move, exactly?' The voice in my mind mocked me.

I got down from the bed and picked up my books. I set them on the desk. Sanaa cleared her throat. She gathered her books.

"Look at the time!" She announced, my watch in her hand. "I have to rush home now."

Deepak looked on, puzzled. He could probably sense the awkwardness. He was probably figuring it all out. I glanced at him. He smirked. He knew.

"I came to tell you lunch is ready. Aunty asked Sanaa to stay for lunch."

"No, she has to leave." I pressed my lips.

"That is something she can tell."

"She just did. Didn't you hear her?"

Ammi entered my room. "Sanaa, have lunch with us."

"Sure, aunty." She beamed at ammi.

I grew stiff.

"Come down to eat." Ammi glared at me as she left with Sanaa.

"So, um." I turned away to face the window, arranging my already arranged books. "You go down. I'll join you all in a while."

Deepak burst out into a love song.

He dodged the pouch that came flying at him. But he didn't stop singing. I ran after him. He was faster. He descended the staircase, hopping and skipping steps like a bunny. He made his way to the dining room. I froze. They would all be gathered there. She would be there. I regained my composure, threw back my shoulders and turned left. I paused, wide-eyed. Sanaa was seated at the dining table, chatting away with di.

She seemed to fit in with my family. I smiled. Somehow, the warmth was now abundant. The empty space was filled. The missing piece clicked in place. I clenched my teeth to hide my smile. Deepak was grinning from ear to ear. Mom brought out the rice.

"I'll serve." I offered. She gave me a weird look.

"You'll serve us lunch?"

"Yes, why not?"

"With your hand in a plaster?" She was unamused.

I had forgotten about that. Sanaa stood up.

"I'll serve."

"No. You're our guest."

Sanaa gave her best sad face. "But I thought this was my home."

"Yes, it is. As I've already told you, this is your home. You should feel free here."

"So if this is my home, then how am I a guest in my own home?"

She had a valid point. Ammi and di were finally seeing the real Sanaa.

Ammi smiled.

"Ammi, first, you sit. Rasheed, you sit too. Deepak, get up. Let him sit first. We'll both get the chairs from the living room. Where's Abu?"

"Abu has gone out with his friends. He won't be joining us for lunch." Said di.

I sat down, in a daze. She was throwing around 'ammi' and 'abu' as if they were her own parents. They were not. They were my parents. Deepak left to get the chairs.

Sanaa served us all rice and gravy with the vegetables. When Deepak came back with the chairs, they took their places at the table. All I could do was look at the company gathered around me, in that cosy space. And I knew then and there, that these were my loved ones. These were the people who cared about me the most. These were the ones I could rely on, come what may. My safe space in the thunderstorm. I tried to hold back the tears that were stinging my eyes.

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