Flashback Continues
Day Seven - 24 March 2016 continued

I just wanna know you better now
Cause all I know is that we said hello
And your eyes look like coming home
I know since yesterday
Everything has changed

Outside the Main Hall at the Ecolodge
Six pm
The party was over, and they stood together in the driveway, waving as the staff bus drove away with the children.

They had had two hours of fun with the children. She had seen his eyes fill with tears when he had seen the cake with "Happy Birthday Adi" written on it in icing. Had seen how he tried to control his emotions when the children sang Happy birthday for his absent son. He had cut the cake with three of the youngest children, their tiny hands holding his as he held the knife. She had seen how his hand trembled as he sliced into the sponge layers, how his voice shook when he spoke to the children. He was not a man who wore his heart on his sleeve, not a man who revealed himself easily, but with the children, remembering his son, all concealments had been swept away, all vulnerabilities exposed. He was simply a man who missed his child, and who had found him again, for a brief moment, in the company of other children.

He had fed the children cake, had eaten the cake they fed him, had accepted the birthday greetings they gave him for "Adi bhaiya".

All the time, she had stood to the side, directing the smiling waiters, taking photos on her phone, but not wanting to intrude on his moments with the children. But then, as the waiters dished out pieces of the cake and plates of snacks to the children, he had picked up a plate and come over to her. She had been watching intently, her eyes brimming as she witnessed his joy, his tautly held emotions. And then she had seen him approach her, and she had brushed away her tears.

"Open your mouth" he had ordered as he approached her, and she had obliged, taking a bite of the piece of cake, before taking the rest from his hand.

"Congratulations on your decade as a father Raman" she held the cake up to him, eyes shining. "And all the best for the court case. I know you will win and I know you'll spend his next birthday with him."

His eyes softened as he acknowledged her wish. "I hope you're right" his voice was husky with emotion.

"Of course I'm right" she smiled at him. "But you have to accept my wishes by having the cake"

He bent his head and bit the cake she was holding up to him and as he did so, his lips grazed her fingers. A sweet tingle of energy flashed through her, and she blushed as she withdrew her hand quickly. He felt the same energy, a small shock that saturated his lips as he wondered why the cake suddenly felt sweeter.

"Thank you" he said softly. "For everything. For making this day so special. You don't know Adi, but what you did for him..."

"I did it for you Raman" she bit her tongue as the words slipped out. She hadn't known it until the moment she had said it, she wished she hadn't said it, but it was true. She had done it for him. Not for a child she had never met, but for him. Not to say sorry for her thoughtless words of the previous day, but for him.

Why Ishita, her mind furiously questioned her, as the discovery of her true motives sank in. Why not, her heart countered with a question of its own. They had become friends, hadn't they? Friends did things for each other, didn't they?

She saw him watching her curiously and her blush deepened.

"We are friends, aren't we?" She vocalized hurriedly, answering a question he had not even asked. "So why shouldn't I do something for my friend? Listen, I think it's time to give the presents to the children. Come."

And he had stood and watched thoughtfully as she escaped, calling the children over to the presents, gesturing to him to present them.

She had avoided talking to him for the next hour, busy helping the children unwrap the presents she made him give to them, playing games with them. But now the children had left, and they were alone.

****************************************

The bus pulled away and he turned to her again, his eyes darkened with gratitude.

"Ishita, thank yo..."

"You've already said thank you Raman" she interrupted. She did not know what was happening to her, why it had been so important to make him happy, why she had felt as if her knees would buckle when she had touched his lips. She had known him for six days, and yet she meant it when she called him her friend. She did not make friends easily. And especially not men friends. So how had he become so important to her? Why did she feel as if she had known him all her life?

"Let me say it again" he said firmly. "I'm sorry I got annoyed when you first told me what you had done. I'm not used to .... to goodness like yours Ishita. The joy you brought me today .... celebrating Adi's birthday with those little children, the looks on their faces, their happiness in those little gifts... I hope my son had as happy a day today as they did. I hope their wishes reach him. And it's all because of you. You've done so much, no one... no one has ever done anything like this...I... I know I can be sarcastic and I... but I do appreciate... Ishita, thank you."

A warm glow of happiness radiated inside her at the sincerity in his voice. A happiness which temporarily buried the questions that she had been asking herself.

"We are friends aren't we?" She repeated for the umpteenth time that day. "Doston ke beech mein, no thank yous, and no sorries." (There are n thank yous or dirties between friends)

"Listen..." he hesitated, wondering how she would construe the request that he wanted to make.

He had wanted her since the moment he saw her, but he had buried his attraction to her  because he did not need any distractions in his life now that he had Adi's custody to contend with. And after having gotten to know her, he knew that she was not the type of woman he could have a casual sexual affair with. She was an amazing woman, a woman in a million, and he had no right to pull her into a brief meaningless sexual relationship which would mean nothing to him, but which would doubtless cause many complications in her life. He knew nothing about her - perhaps she had a fiancée at home, an existing relationship. For her to be single and unattached at her age would be unusual for a woman from her community and obvious conservative upbringing. Besides she was such a beautiful, loving woman, it was impossible to think that no man had already laid claim to her.

At first he had thought to keep his lust for her at bay by annoying her into hating him, with his insults, his barbs, his sarcasm, but somehow, despite himself, he had started to like her as a person. Had started to admire her feistiness and her caring, compassionate nature. Had started to feel so comfortable with her that he had done the unthinkable yesterday - and confided his pain and his insecurities to her. He had allowed himself to cry in her arms, something he had not done for years, and never in front of others. And those arms had given him comfort like no other ever had.

He did not know what all this meant. She said they were friends, but were they? He had never made friends with women. Shy as a young man, and self conscious about his looks and weight, he had avoided rejection by avoiding relationships. Shagun had been the first romantic relationship of his life. And after what had happened with Shagun, he had become embittered and disillusioned with the entire concept of love. He thought that he had discovered the true nature of women - treachery. His relationships after that had been purely physical - there had been no time for friendship or emotion. No, he did not know how to be just friends with women. Even his male friends were few - Mihir was his only confidante, his mother his only emotional anchor. But now he had met this amazing woman. And she had called him her friend. And if  she was prepared to be his friend, then he could be her friend too. And only a friend.

But could he then make a request to her that went beyond the cosy boundaries of their equation, without having her misconstrue his intentions? She had done so much for him today, he wanted to do something nice for her too. But would she think he was hitting on her, if he suggested dinner in town? But what harm was there in asking, he asked himself. They ate all their meals here together after all, had done so for the past seven days. But you're not alone here Raman, he reminded himself. In a restaurant, by yourselves, she might think you intend something different. Nonsense, he chided himself. Why would she think that? We share a cabin for God's sake. She must know by now that I won't cross any of her boundaries, that I won't disrespect her in that way.

He had seen the consternation on her face when she had blurted out that she had done what she had done today just for him. She obviously did not feel anything more than friendship for him, and did not want him to think that she had any other motives . So he had to put her at ease when asking her out.

She was looking at him curiously as the thoughts chased across his mind, and he took a deep breath

"Will you come out to dinner with me? he asked. " I saw an Italian restaurant when I went into town yesterday. I miss Italian yaar. It's my favorite. Adi's too. I'm sure they will have veg options too. So what say? Shall we finish celebrating Adi's birthday with his favorite food?"

"Dinner?" He saw the confusion in her eyes, as her cheeks slowly turned crimson. "But..."

"Why not? We're friends, aren't we?" he said hastily. "This isn't some date or something like that Ishita. Just two friends going out to dinner. I'm gay, remember?"

"Will you please stop saying that?" She scowled up at him. "And I wasn't thinking you were asking me on a date. I mean, I'd never imagine that. I just didn't know we can go out to meals from here, that's all. I thought we need to only eat here and follow the full program, you know."

"It's not a jail Ishita" he was relieved at her quick disavowal of any misconstruction of his intentions. Although to be honest, it did sting a little that she said she would never imagine going on a date with him. Why not? He wasn't that unattractive, was he? He put aside his strangely hurt feelings and continued. "I went out last night, you yourself went out to town today. Nobody is going to force us to eat here. Toh kya khayal hai dost, chale kya Italian khane?" (So what say my friend? Shall we go out for Italian?)

"Okay" she smiled delightedly. "Mujhe bhi na, thoda sa change chahiye. Lekin Raman, mein aap ke liye ek gift layi hoon, pehle aap usse dekh lo." (Okay. I wouldn't mind a change myself. But Raman, I have a gift for you. You need to see that first)

"Gift? But Ishita, you've already done so much. And I can't meet Adi myself, so how will I send him your gift, I ..."

"It's not for Adi" she interrupted. "It's for you."

"For me? But it's not my birthday paagal madrassan."

"How dare you?" Her scowl was now turned on him in earnest. "I'm being so nice to you, I got you such a nice present and you're being so insulting. You're so mean."

"But this is how I am with all my friends" he grinned, following her as she stalked down the pathway towards their cabin. "So if you say you're my friend, you have to get used to this. Ab tum madrassan ho, aur thodi si paagal bhi, toh naam theek toh hai na? Acha, stop sulking and tell me, why a gift for me. Ishita. Suno na. Taufa kis liye?"
(But this is how I am with all my friends. So if you say you're my friend, you have to get used to this. Now you're a madrassan, and you're slightly mad, so the name fits doesn't it? Okay, stop sulking and tell me, why a gift for me. Ishita. Listen. Why did you get me a gift?)

He had caught up to her and started walking backwards, facing her, getting in her way, until she was forced to stop.

"Because it's not just Adi's birthday" she said finally, looking gravely at him. "It's also the anniversary of the day you became a father. It's a special day for you too. That's why."

He was silent for a moment, wondering again at her sensitivity, her ability to make him feel special, cared for.

"You're a good person Ishita" he said finally, swallowing over a sudden lump in his throat.

"I thought I was a mad madrassan Jhansi ki Rani" she retorted, as they resumed their walk towards the cabin.

"That too" he grinned. "So where is my present?"

"I told the boys to deliver it to the cabin when we were with the children. It was a little damp in spots, but it should be okay by now."

"Damp?" They had reached the cabin and he turned to look at her in confusion. "What have you got for me? Tooothbrush hai kya?" (Is it a toothbrush?)

"Paagal Punjabi" she retorted as she thrust the key into the front door. "Koi paagal hi kisi ko toothbrush gift karega."
(You're a mad Punjabi. Only someone mad would gift a toothbrush to somebody)

"Tum nakli dentist ho na, isliye mein ne socha"
(You're a fake dentist, that's why I thought...)

He was laughing as he followed her into the cabin, but the laughter died in his throat as they entered the living room.

There was a painting on an easel inside the lounge, facing the door. It was a simple painting, of a smiling boy and a man looking at him with all the love in the world in his eyes. The boy was Adi and the man was his papa. She had given the artist her clandestine clicks of both his treasured photos of his son, and the photos she had taken of him that morning. The artist was obviously very talented - he had captured the happiness in Adi's face, and he had captured the love in Raman's eyes, taken from his earlier photo and transposed onto his current visage. She had asked for the background to be muted and it was. The only thing that stood out were the two faces, one a happy child's face and the other the face of a man who loved the child more than himself, and who watched him with a pensive enigmatic smile.

She looked from the painting to his face, hoping that he would like it, hoping that she had again not taken too many liberties with his feelings and his privacy. But just one glance at his face told her that she had done the right thing. His eyes were moist, and a taut smile showed the efforts he was making to hold back those treacherous tears.

As she watched, he walked over to the easel, kneeling by it, his face rapt with wonder. She saw the tears that he had been holding back trickle down his face, saw the emotion that clouded his face as he gazed at the larger than life image of his son's face. It must be so wonderful to be a parent, she thought with a pang. It must be so wonderful to experience a love so deep, so all encompassing, a love that was truly unselfish, that put the loved ones happiness above your own. It was a love she would never get to experience, she realised with a pang. Subbu had not been willing to take a chance with her, and she would never hide the truth about herself from any prospective partner just to secure a marriage. And so the love of a husband, the love of a child, would never be known to her.

Her eyes clouded over, but she gave herself a mental shake. Today was not about her, it was about this man who was sitting on his haunches, gazing at a painting as if willing it into life.

"Raman?" She walked over to him, touched him gently on his shoulder.

He got up, pulling her into his arms swiftly, before she had a chance to react or protest. He crushed her to his chest, his arms squeezing her as her own hands flew around his neck, holding him close to her. His arms were so comforting, so warm. She felt so safe in his embrace, as if the storms of the world could not touch her, as if everything she was yearning for was within her reach. They stayed like that for long moments, until the sound of voices in the distance recollected her to herself. She struggled against him and he released her, but not before cupping her face in his hands and kissing first one and then the other cheek softly.

"Thank you" he said gruffly, voice dark with emotion. "Get ready and then let's go, shall we?"

And she stood quietly, wondering what had just happened to her heart as he walked out of the room and into his own.
****************************************
He sat on his bed, wiping the tears that would not stop flowing.

Who was she? How did she know to do the things that touched his heart in ways no one and nothing ever had. How had she known exactly what he had needed today?

And just what was that wonderful feeling he had experienced when he had her in his arms. That warmth, that security, that contentment. Just what had happened to his heart in that moment?

****************************************
Three Hours Later
Casa Italia, Shimla

The Casa Italia had been mostly empty, and at nine pm, they were one of only three sets of diners still left in the old bistro. They were tucked away in a corner by themselves, having just finished a delicious dinner of mushroom risotto and pasta with fresh tomato and basil sauce.

The whole experience had been made even more interesting by the confidences they had shared with each other, about their lives, their families and their childhoods.

They hadnt realised how and where the time had flown as they regaled each other with stories of their crazy families and their happy childhoods.

He had told her about the loud brash Mrs Toshi Bhalla, with her heart of gold. About his silent father, who supported him in every endeavor. About his sisters and his brother, and how their antics drive him up the wall. About Mihir, his friend and closest confidante, and about how work and his dreams. She had told him in turn about her family - about her loving softhearted appa Vishwanathan Iyer, her excitable but traditional amma Madhavi Iyer and the romance they shared even to this day. She had told him about her sister and her family, and about her 24 year old cousin Mihika, who had lived with them since she was sixteen.

But one thing she did not tell him was about Subbu. She knew he was curious about her love life, about her relationship status. She had seen the curiousity in his eyes when she spoke about her life now, her dental practice, her hobbies, her friends.

"And boyfriend?" He had asked after she finished telling him about Vandu akka, Bala jiju, Shravan and Mihika. "Isn't there a boyfriend in there somewhere too Ishita?"

"No" she had replied, honestly. "I don't have a boyfriend. I'm not in love with anyone."

And it was true, she had realised as she said it. She was no longer in love with Subbu - those feelings had gone, out of her life and her psyche forever.

But then he had left to go to the bathroom and she had taken advantage of the WiFi at the restaurant to check her Facebook page. And she had come across a photo of Subbu and his bride, with some colleagues. She had not seen a photo of him in his bridal wear, her sister careful not to post anything that could possibly hurt her feelings. But a Facebook friend, a mutual colleague of Subbu and hers who was also in the photo, had been tagged, and so it had shown up in her newsfeed.

She glanced at the photo, quickly scrolling down, and then, despite herself, she scrolled back up to it. She clicked on the photo, her eyes filling involuntarily as she gazed on the picture of the man who she had dreamt of marrying for so long, dressed as a groom for someone else. He looked handsome and confident, and his bride was pretty, much younger than him. And he was wearing the same outfit that they had spotted in a Manish Malhotra catalogue when looking for outfits for their engagement- a deep ivory sherwani with a maroon sash and churidaars.Subbu had declared then that would be his wedding outfit. His bride had changed, but his outfit hadn't , she thought wryly, as she stared at his picture. She was no longer in love with him, but the easy dismissal still stung. Ten years in someone's life and then to be dismissed as if she had never existed. Less important to his marriage plans than his sherwani.

She brushed away a stray tear angrily.

"Who is he?"

She had not heard Raman approaching, and she turned around, looking up in dismay at where he stood behind her.

"I asked you who he is Ishita" there was a coldness in his voice, as though he were angry with her, and she looked in in confusion as he grabbed her phone from her hands.

"Raman, no" she protested, as he looked at the photo she had been staring at and then at her moist eyes.

"You lied to me" he said curtly. "You said you weren't in love with anyone."

"I'm not" she stood up and took her phone from his unresisting hand. "Subbu was my fiancée. He left me six months ago. It was his wedding his week. That's why I left Delhi. I didn't want to be around when he got married. I didn't want anyone's sympathies or to listen to anyone's taunts. But I didn't lie to you. I'm not in love with him. I was. For a very long time I was. But all that is over. I don't love him anymore."

"You're lying even to yourself Ishita" he held back her chair, picking up her coat and handing it to her. "If you didn't love him, you wouldn't be crying over his wedding photo. Anyway, let's go, it's getting late. Wear your coat, I'll go and pay the bill."

He stalked away, and she stood looking at his retreating back in dismay.

They had had such an amazing evening, had shared so much, had learnt so much about each other. She had not felt so happy, so carefree, in months. And then she had looked at her blasted Facebook page, and everything had been ruined. But why was he so angry? Because he thought she had lied? Because he thought she was still in love with Subbu? Why?

****************************************

Raman handed over a sheaf of notes to the cashier, adding a generous tip.

Dr Subramaniam and Anjali Subramaniam, the caption to the photo had said. Subbu she had called him. Her former fiancée. So that was her secret, her story. She had come to Shimla to escape her former fiancées wedding celebrations. And she was crying over his photo while pretending she didn't love him.

But why was he so angry, he asked himself, as she came over to stand beside him. Why did he feel betrayed by finding out that she had a past she was running away from. He had told himself that a woman as beautiful as her could not be single. So why was he so ..so hurt at finding out that she was in love with someone, someone who had left her. And why did the sight of that handsome bridegroom evoke such an intense unreasoning jealousy in his heart?

Snap out of it Raman, he ordered himself sternly. If she doesn't want to share her life story with you, that's her call. She doesn't have to reciprocate just because you told her everything. She obviously doesn't feel as comfortable with you as you do with her.

"Shall we?" He took some more notes out of his wallet, then stuffed the wallet back into his pocket, before gesturing towards the door to her, his face grim, his eyes unsmiling. She nodded and he followed her out, handing tips to the waiters and doorman as they left.

Their car was parked directly outside the restaurant and he gestured to her to wait as he opened the door for her, waiting until she was seated before closing her door and getting in himself. She did not say anything, looking straight ahead, as he began to drive.

Why is he acting this way, she asked herself as she stole a surreptitious glance at his face. I didn't lie to him. I'm not in love with Subbu anymore. It still hurts yes, but that's more my ego now. The love, the intensity, that's gone. I didn't lie.

But you didn't tell him the truth either Ishita, her conscience pricked her. He shared everything with you, but you haven't told him the truth about yourself. You call him your friend. You've never felt so close, so connected to anyone in such a short time before. Don't you think he deserves the truth?

They had just left the town boundaries, were approaching a scenic lookout with a parking lot, now deserted, when she took a deep breath.

"Raman, stop here for a while please" her voice was a soft plea.

He glanced at her, then veered off onto the verge.

"Kyun?" He asked, his voice still distant and cool. "Raat ko kya dekhna hai yahan?"
(Why? What do you want to see here at night?)

"Dekhna nahi" she replied, looking into the darkness. "Aap ko sach batana hai. Mera sach."
(Not to see. To talk. I want to tell you the truth. My truth)