How too love again?

Together to be ❤️

Meko tujhe byee bolna tha.” He looks conflicted as if he’s questioning his own decision to come after being away the whole night. “Um...I...this feels weird. I’m sorry. Mera yeh matlb hai ki I can't hate you. Or mujhe bye bolna tha because agar humare bech me jo be tha voh real tha toh hum dono goodbye deserve krte hai."

She takes a step closer to him and he lets her take his hands in her. “Okay.” She whispers. “ Sidharth I hope kissi din tu meko maaf kr dega. Mera flat number 213 hai. Agar kbhi teko lagta hai hum kuch be ho skte hai friends, yaa jo bhi. Yaa tu meko trust kr skta hai toh tu aajaana yaha.” She pauses, looking into his eyes. “ Main tera humesha wait krungi. Bhale meko puri zingadi wait Krna pade. Jbh tu 80 years ka ho jaae tbhi teko mujhpr trust ho. Or agar main zinda rhi toh ake mujhe dhund lena.”

He chuckles softly. “Alright.” He nods. “I guess this is goodbye.”

“Haye nhii.” She breathes out and he pulls her in for a hug. His arms around her send a breath of fresh air back into her body. And she revels in the warmth his arms bring, savoring it, wanting to bottle it up forever.

“Goodbye, Ghadi.” He pulls away to look at her. 

She caresses his cheek. “Goodbye, bebu.”

*Three years later*

Alvira is staring at her by the time she comes out from out back. She’d had to check if they had any books left that a customer had requested on the phone. And she was seriously behind on restoring the book her boss trusted her with. It was strange how easily she had learned the trade, truthfully but she had been a good student and Mr. Carter was the best teacher she’d ever had, period. How she’d come to work here was a complete coincidence. Obviously she’d been looking for a job but the reason she entered the bookshop was HP Lovecraft. There in the window, on display. It was there as part of some sort of horror week and it made her think of Sidharth so she walked in.

Mr. Carter was inside, delighted, as always by a new customer, a warm smile on his face that reminded her of her dad's friend. She’d gotten into a long conversation with him about books, everything and anything that came up until Mr. Carter decided to show her the restoring room.  She’d been fascinated and he could see that, a wonder at how it all worked so he offered her a job, he’d teach how to restore and she’d work up front as well.

Now three years later, he was finally trusting her with the books on her own and she was damn proud of herself. The process itself was liberating, she didn’t think about much else during the hours she spent on perfecting every corner and it brought her peace in those quiet hours of just her and a book.

She misses him. Everyday. No matter how much she focuses on collage or the bookshop, at night she’ll go back to her room and feel that same feeling of loneliness again. She loves the friends she made when she first came to New Haven but there are things that they can’t even understand the concept of, things she’s been through. She knows that she’ll never actually find that kind of understanding anywhere other than with the people she lived it all with.

Nobody knew much about her hometown other than the fact that it was a place that didn’t bring Shehnaaz a lot of comfort. Her friends in New York are good people, normal people and in some way she can see that she fits in with them. At dinner parties and late nights out with them, she feels herself reaching for that green light and almost getting there, that sense of normalcy, as if she had a normal high school experience. But they know, she doesn’t have to say anything, they know that there’s something under Shehnaaz’s comments about her own life. As if the past held some kind of darkness that wasn’t meant to be spoken of outside of Mumbai borders.

They know about Sidharth though. All of it, they know of the love of her life and how she hurt him and how she’s never been able to really move on, even three years later. The framed picture of them on her bedside table, the picture of him in her wallet and the t-shirt she slept in. And the fact that whenever any guy tried to flirt, she’d shut them down with a sort of efficiency rarely seen was enough for them to know that whatever happened between them stopped her from all those things.

Alvira had caught her crying sometimes. It was the day of their anniversary, the first year she was away and Shehnaaz had stared at his photographs for a solid fifteen minutes, crying silently. Her dark haired friend, had murmured, quietly, holding her. “Maybe you should move on, Sana. Tum uss cheez ka zindagi bhar wait nhi kr skti jo kbhi nhi aegi." 

Shehnaaz shook her head, understanding that Alvira had the best intentions but knowing that no one could ever really grasp what she had with Sidharth. He was her soulmate, their souls understood each other in ways Shehnaaz could never explain to anyone else and maybe she was being dramatic but being without him was like missing a limb.

“Um, Sana?” Alvira calls out.

“Kyaa? Jldi bata menu report-"

And in the middle of Mr. Carter’s bookshop is him. Sidharth Shukla. 

“Shehnaaz Gill or yaha? I can't believe it.” He smiles softly. And she gulps, eyes wide, mouth open as if to say something but never managing to get it out. Alvira sits on the counter, a bit of a bewildered look on her face as she watches the exchange. It was one thing to hear stories of their great love and the way Shehnaaz talked of him but it was another to watch them look at each other like that.

“Tu yahaa...” She breathes out, walking around the counter to him. Tentatively stepping closer, she takes him in. A little older, a little tanner with a softer glance in his eyes, yet an intense one all the same. She doesn’t have to wonder if she can hold him because he’s the one that pulls her in. “Oh my god.” She mumbles, into his shoulder.

“Hi.” He says.

“Teko kasie pata laga main yaha houngi?” She questions.