Yuva looked stunned; utterly speechless as he starred at Nisha, non-verbally demanding an explanation for why she had deemed it fit him to slap him across the face in front of tens of other people, who are just enjoying this unfolding drama. What crime of his was worthy of such a punishment?

An impulse surged in him almost instantly to retaliate, but looking at her brewing in frustration and anger, he knew that she was sending a clear message- her anger is justified. “Don’t you ever talk to me like that again,” Nisha said. “What is your problem with me? Am I not good enough for you now? After everything I tried and changed? What else are you expecting?” He looked up silently, determined not to answer- she already gave him a punishment and if she’s looking for an explanation as well, she wouldn’t be getting one from him.

“Are you sure you can handle this, Ms. Geetha?” Prakash quickly stepped in front of Geetha and asked. “I don’t charge that amount of money for no reason, I’m expensive because I am a good lawyer, I’ve handled dozens of identical cases, so you can go ahead and sue me if I fail,” she retorted. “Appreciate your confidence, and fairly that is why I have hired you, but I believe I’m now talking about handling that car steering of yours,” Prakash glanced at Geetha’s Mercedes. “You are not in the right state to drive, Geetha, I can tell that much,” he continued, glancing skirmish at Geetha as she did another puking face, before straightening up and pretending- for the umpteenth time- that the whiskeys that he had whisked down her throat in that bar have crashed against her wall of immunity, leaving her just as sober and aware as she always is. “I have done this before, countless of times, my Mercedes will be fine,” she stuttered. “I have to say it’s rather about whether you will be fine, you sure you don’t need anyone to drive you home?” Prakash was kneading a fine line between showing his concern and professionally respecting Geetha’s opinions. But he knew she wasn’t going to make it home in this state. “Will you drop me then?” he asked. “I’ll come with you, some other people will be in my car,” he added. Geetha turned around, smiled, sat, turned on the keys, and did another puking face. “Hop on,” she smiled and said after straightening up her face again. Prakash sighed.

It was more like a dream. Almost every one of them is. Prakash knows it from the numerous experiences he had with them in his life. He did not become a corporate mogul due to inheritance or sheer luck- he was in the streets as well, huffing and puffing like others in the city, wrote motorbikes in horrible weathers, experienced near-death experiences- he was used to all of it. But was she? He held her wrists, and knew for a certainty that she has just passed out. “Boss,” his driver patted his shoulder from outside of the car. “You ok?” he added, concerned. Prakash was still struggling to regain full consciousness, but he knew what happened. He looked down at his body. He has been cheated before. You don’t feel any pain and you think you are ok, until you start moving and the pain sinks into you. But not this time. “Take her out, she’s bleeding,” he told his driver. The shimmering light of Prakash’s own car, which has been following Geetha and him all along caught his eye- he was finally conscious, and seared in pain. Accidents aren’t pretty, all the more so when you ram a Mercedes at 100 mph on a divider. He understood what that look on his driver’s face meant- both he and she are lucky to have survived.

When Geetha opened her eyes, to finally recall everything that has happened- the meeting, the drinks, the overdose of it, the drunken feeling, the sheer disillusionment of thinking that she could drive while being drunk, agreeing to risk Prakash’s life as well by bringing him along, and ramming her car straight into a divider after not listening to Prakash’s frantic advises to turn the wheels or put on the brakes. “Damn,” she said, aching with a little pain on her forehead. “Yeah, damn, you survived,” it was her lovely brother sitting by the hospital bed, arms crossed, looking ignorantly as she tries to get her body straight up. “Too bad you did eh?” he added. She starred at him with coldness. “Your sister, someone who was apparently born six freaking years before you did, my brother, is in pain. Mind helping?” she asked sarcastically. Yuva finally moved to help place a pillow on Geetha’s back as she sat up straight. “Yeah, it’s all of your own doing, you were too much of a smart ass for your own good,” he replied. “You told Prakash that you did it countless of times before? How lucky should all of us feel that you are still alive then?” he stared intently at her, and at this, Geetha smiled. Despite that frustrated face of his, she knew what that look meant. “Aww,” she said. “I know you love me so much, come give your sister a big big hug.”

“You are unbelievable,” he said, moving forward to give her a warm, hesitant hug, careful not to touch upon any of her injuries and aggravate the pain. “Your cheeks seem red,” she said, noticing a red mark of Yuva’s cheeks. Being born to the fairer gene in the Indian family tree definitely did not help him there, to get found out so easily. He stoned himself, determined to try and ignore the questions. “Yuva?” Geetha was persistent. Yuva’s silence meant that there was something indeed that he was hiding, that there is a story behind the red mark on the cheek. “She slapped me,” he said, putting a sad face. “Who?…Nisha?” she asked, and at that moment she stuttered into a laughter as Yuva nodded. “You don’t have to be so crude,” he added. “Well, that’s classic. Why? What did you do? What did my lovey-dovey-adorable brother do to her eh?” at this, she pinched Yuva’s reddish cheeks. Yuva glanced at her, brewing in embarrassment. “I’ll talk to her, gosh, do I have to help you two make up with each other every time?” she sighed, with a smile on her face. “What did you do exactly?” she added abruptly, the smile fading from her face. She knew Yuva must have done something to warrant that wrath from Nisha, even though admittedly Nisha can be quite emotionally driven at times.

Nisha and Geetha both have a good relationship, a friendship of their own. It is for Geetha that Nisha fought with her editor, to ensure that the feature she wrote about Geetha remained a cover page story for the magazine she works for. Nisha has tried, with everything that she could, to be the person that Yuva wants her to be- the way she talks, the way she wears clothes- all these elements she has changed for his sake, and ultimately, she believed, for her own sake. But she could not tolerate being told how to speak to her own boyfriend by her own boyfriend. Whom is she supposed to impress? Is she supposed to impress him with the way she talks even after two years of being together? It wasn’t his mom or anybody else who were listening to that conversation, neither was she cranky nor offensive. Why that driven need to ask her to change her speaking pattern during even a private conversation, in which, she believed, is where everyone can just be themselves without trying too hard to please anyone else? What is this love that requires a person to change so much externally?

The phone rang. It was him. This was not the first time that this has happened. He would ask sorry, and he did. It was not the first time that Nisha had conveyed her feelings to Geetha and Geetha in turn made her brother understand how Nisha felt. Why is she unable to relay her feelings to him by herself? What is stopping her? She smiled as he started being a boyfiend again who makes everything look normal again. And slowly inside her, she buried the questions that have arised in her. But she knew, someday, somehow, they have to be awakened again, and that one time, they have to be answered. But for now, ignorance is bliss.

To be continued…

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