You're the only reason why
I'm not afraid to fly
You're the reason why

31 March 2017
Raman

Raman Bhalla wrenched off his tie and flung off his jacket as he sat back in his chair, uncoiling his lean lithe frame across its length.

The intercom on his desk phone buzzed and he leaned over, stretching a finger to hit the speaker button.

"I said no calls Sheena" his deep voice was tinged with annoyance. "I don't want to be disturbed."

"But sir, Mr Mihir said to remind..."

"Twenty minutes Sheena. Absolutely nothing for twenty minutes."

He switched off the phone, ignoring the rest of what his Assistant was saying, and leaned back in his chair again, taking a deep breath to control his annoyance at her intrusion. He wanted to be alone with his thoughts, to reminisce.

He was thirty five years old, and in his thirty five years, he had seen everything that life had to offer, had taken all the blows that destiny could throw at him. He had been married, his wife had left him, he had gone through a divorce, had lost his son, his only child, and had then regained him again. He had been the eldest son of a comfortably off businessman, had seen his father lose everything, had taken a job on the lowest rung of the corporate ladder and had worked himself up to his millionaire status. He had plumbed the greatest depths of failure and ascended the dizziest heights of success.

If there was one thing he had learnt from the experiences of his lifetime, it was that the only thing certain about life was it's uncertainty. Nothing remained the same - change was the only constant. Change had taken him from a shy teenager to the confident self assured man of the world that he was now. From an infatuated fiancée to an embittered ex husband. From an overweight bespectacled geek to an accomplished lover, the heartthrob of every female in his vicinity. From a penniless employee to King of his empire.

Today, at the age of only thirty five, he was one of the most successful businessmen in Delhi. The Managing Director of a multinational conglomerate, with a majority shareholding in the corporation. Today he had everything.

But as he looked unseeingly through the glass walls of his office at the busy hum of his empire, he was not thinking about his wealth or his position. His thoughts were coalesced in one place only today, in one person.

Ishita. Ms Ishita Iyer, to be precise.

For today was 31 March. A date he had been waiting for, for an entire year.

So much had happened since he had last seen her, so many changes had taken place in his life. He needed to see her, to tell her everything that had happened with him, and how much she had featured in his thoughts whenever he had celebrated his achievements. That although he barely knew her, he had missed her every day. His feelings were still so confused, so uncertain. He did not know if what he felt about her was love, or just the frustrated desire of an incredible passion cut short. But he needed to see her, in order to find out. And he needed to find out how she felt about him too.

She had insisted when they had parted from each other that they not contact each other until she returned to India, in an years time.

"You have to focus on your son Raman" she had said seriously, when he had asked for her address in Australia. "I don't want to .... I don't want to be a distraction for you. You told me that this is your best chance to get Adi's custody, to get him back in your life. These circumstances won't always be in your favor. You need to do this now. You don't owe me anything Raman, I told you that last night."

"I want to see you again Ishita" he had responded, wondering why he felt so bereft at her insistence that they be apart for so long. She was right, he owed her nothing, but this wasn't about what he owed or what he had to do. It was about what he wanted and he wanted her dammit. Wanted to see her. Wanted to be with her. "I will get Adi home, no matter what I have to do, or how I have to do it. But my equation with Adi and with you are two completely separate matters. Bringing Adi home doesn't mean that I can't be in touch with you."

"I'll give you my address in Delhi" she had offered. "You know I'm flying to Sydney in two days, and I'm going to be really busy with my Masters and my residency once I get there. But I'll be back in Delhi in a year. If you still want to, you can call  me then."

"Still want to? " he had blustered, annoyed. "Of course I'll still want to. But Ishita, one year is far too long. I cant wait for one year to see you. I.. I don't know, but I..."

"No Raman" she had whispered, covering his lips with her hands. "Don't say anything else now please. This is all so new for me, and I really don't know how....Get Adi back home, make him secure, and then... call me when I'm back in Delhi, please"

He had finally given in in the face of her stubbornness, had agreed, but he had insisted on giving her all his contact details - his home address, his telephone number, his email contacts.

"I promise I won't call you for a year" he had vowed as they had said their goodbyes, his hands clinging to hers. "Waada karta hoon. But you can call me, you can come to see me any time you like. Don't ever hesitate Ishita. If you ever need me, all you have to do is to call."

She had looked him deep in the eyes then, her lips curving into a sad smile.

"Raman, you don't have to feel guilty about what happened last night. I wanted it. I talked you into it. Please don't be sorry, I'm not. And I never will be."

And she had reached up, hugging him briefly, kissing him softly on one cheek, before she had turned abruptly and left their shared cabin. He had felt her body shake as she had clung to him for that split second, had seen the glint of tears in her eyes. But he had respected her wishes, and had let her go. He had stood at the door watching as she had walked rapidly down the path towards the main building and her waiting Jeep, her steps faltering at the last moment as she had turned, as though against her will, to look back at him.

She had smiled, one last time, and then she was gone, out of his sight, and out of his life.

He had felt so alone at her departure, full of grief for something he did not understand.

He had known her for only two weeks - and yet, it seemed as though he had known her for this lifetime and all others before. She was nothing to him, but seeing her walk away made it feel as though all the colors had just drained out of his life. As though she had taken away the rainbows and blue skies,  and left him with only dull greys. He wanted to run after her, to tell her.... but what, he did not know. All he knew was that their time together had been too short, their physical attraction had been so intense that it had almost consumed him, and that their friendship sprung from a rare comfort level he had never had with anyone else. A place from where they had been able to sense each other's pain, had been able to read each other's minds.

She had been like the half he did not know he was missing. And he had let her go.

He had kept his promise, had not contacted her for the past twelve months.

But he had thought of her. Often and with the stirring of an emotion that he could not define. At times, it seemed as though she was calling out to him, as though she needed him, was reaching out to him telepathically. He would reach for his phone on those occasions, wanting to bridge the distance between them, to find out how she was. But his promise held him back. She had called him Raavan - he wanted to prove to her that he was not, that he could be trusted.

"Why Raman" He had asked himself many times in the past year. "Why does her opinion matter so much? Why is your promise like an unshakeable vow to you? Just what do you feel for her? Who is she to you?"

He didn't know the answer to those questions, had not wanted to delve too deeply into his soul to find the reasons, for he feared that an honest answer would make his wait harder.

But now, the endless year of waiting was over now. He could call her now. Talk to her, tell her his stories and listen to hers, and to see whether he could finally give a name to his undefined feelings, to explore whether the interrupted passion from a year ago was still there. Of course it would be Raman, his heart told him. Passion that intense did not die. It was a passion that had kept him away from other women for the entire past year. No one else held any interest for him any longer. It was only her. And now, finally, he would be able to meet her again.

He flicked his phone open, anticipation building up as he stared at her stored number.

"She might not even be back yet Raman" his inner voice chided him. "It's not necessary that she be back on the anniversary of the exact day that you and she parted. She might be back in a week or two. Give it some time. Have patience."

"Patience be damned" his heart shot back to his mind. "If she doesn't pick up, I can try again. But it's been a year, I've kept my promise and I'm going to call her. Nothing is going to stop me from going to her now. Nothing."

And so he dialed.

31 March 2017
Ishita

Ishita sat back in her bulkhead seat, refastening her seatbelt as she prepared to try to sleep. It was four hours into her flight from Sydney to Delhi, and most of her fellow travelers were fast asleep. Including her traveling companion.

She looked tenderly at her seat mate, tucking the thin airline blanket gently around the fast asleep form.

So much had happened in the past year, and she would never have been able to cope, would not be healthy and in any mental condition to take on the inevitable challenges that her life was now going to throw at her, if it was not for this wonderful person next to her. Her savior, who had left everything to come to Australia and support her in her darkest hours, when she had needed love and consideration the most. When her life had taken the most unexpected trajectory that had left her reeling in anguish and bewilderment.

Sometimes she still could not believe everything that had happened to her in the past year. It had all started when she had met the man she called her Raavan. Raman. Raman Kumar Bhalla, to be precise.

She had been hurting when she met him, a rejected discarded fiancée, already almost too old for marriage at 27 and a half when, six months previously, she had been dumped on her engagement day.

A slim pretty girl with beautiful brown eyes and waist length hair, she had always hid her own light under the bushel to make others shine. A caring consummate medical professional, a loving daughter and sister, her entire existence had unfortunately been condensed down into one harsh fact - her fiancée, her boyfriend of ten years, had dumped her.

She had suffered for six months and then, to escape her former fiancées wedding celebrations, she had taken her hurting broken shattered self to Simla, and there she had met an opinionated, brooding, emotional Punjabi with a  temper as fiery as Mount Vesuvius and a heart as large. And that meeting had changed her life forever.

It was exactly one year to the day today when she had parted from her Punjabi nemesis. Parted after two weeks together. Two weeks of sparring and bickering, of constant arguments, and growing understanding. Of laughter and togetherness. And one unforgettable night of unbridled, all consuming passion.

Life had thrown them together for that fortnight and that chance encounter had changed her life. Irrevocably and forever. He had left an imprint so deep that she would never be the same again. But he had promised her nothing and she had asked him for nothing.

It was true, that at the time they parted, he had wanted to stay in touch, had wanted to keep her in his life. She had seen puzzled tenderness in his eyes, tenderness for her. But she had not wanted to come between him and his goal. He had said that he needed to get his son back, and she knew just how much he loved his son. She had seen the anguish and the love in his eyes for his lost child, had been witness to his tears, his heartbreak.

She had hoped on that day that she had a future with him.

She had not told him, but she had fallen deeply in love with him. No, not fallen. Risen. She had risen deeply in love with him. She would never have taken the step she did on their final night together if she had not loved him. For her, physical attraction was only a part of the all encompassing love she felt for him.

But no matter how much she hoped and longed for a relationship with him, she had known that a future built at the altar of the sacrifice of his relationship with his son would never succeed. They said if you loved someone, you had to set them free. So she had set him free. He had to be let free, unfettered, so that he could bring his son, his Adi, back into his life. He had to become whole again before he could welcome her broken self into his life. And he may not have been able to regain Adi's custody, to make himself whole, if his attention had been divided between his son and her. Between Delhi and Sydney.

Her heart had sang with joy when he insisted on staying in touch, but she had hardened herself, and would not give in to his insistence. She had only given him her address and telephone number in India, had asked him to wait for a year, until she was back, before contacting her.

"If you still want to" she had said, and he had protested with indignation that of course he would still want to.

But she knew better now. He would not be contacting her again. Not because he wouldn't want to, but because he couldn't. Things had changed so much in his life, his circumstances had changed so much that his feelings and his vows of a year ago were no longer important. Besides, he owed her nothing. She had told him that over and over. He owed her nothing.

But she hoped he would think of her today. Just as she was thinking of him. She had felt it so many times in the past year, when her heart had cried for him. It was as though his heart would answer hers, and she would feel a relief, a calmness descend on her. And she knew it was because he was thinking of her.

"Yes" she told herself, holding back tears. "He did think of me. He did remember me. And he must be thinking of me today too. He must be."

Of course he would be thinking of her today. He was a good man. A decent man. He was not the type of man who would sleep with a woman and then cast her aside without a second thought. He had tried to resist her that night, had tried to get her to see sense. After all, everything that had happened between them had been at her instigation, at her demand. He had cared about her, had not wanted her to make a mistake she would regret, so yes, he would be thinking of her, on the anniversary of the night they had made love and had parted for ever.

But he would be thinking of her only  as a happy memory of his past.

For she could not be a part of his present or his future. That much she knew. She had seen it with her own eyes, heard it with her own ears.

That sight, those words had hurt her so much. But she could not condemn him for this choices.

He had promised her nothing, and he had made it clear in the two weeks she had known him that he had one priority in his life. His son. So he had made the choices he had to make for his son, and he must be happy in his life now. She hoped he was happy, very happy. He had shared his pain, his hurt with her and she had seen how deeply scarred and broken he was. She hoped the change in his equation with his son had brought him peace, had brought him the joy his life had lacked.

Just as the changes in her life her brought her joy, even if just for one tiny moment, amongst all the pain. So much had happened in her life in the past year, that her heartache of eighteen months ago barely seemed relevant now. She had been broken further, in ways that made her broken engagement to  Subbu completely inconsequential. Subbu .... he seemed so completely irrelevant now. He had never been worth her tears and her time.

But she had still been hurting over Subbu when she had met Raman. Had gone to Simla to get away from everyone and everything during the week of Subbu's wedding celebrations. After all, at that time, it had only been six months since her broken engagement, and she had not felt up to facing reminders of Subbu's perfidy. Had not wanted the well meaning compassion of her family and friends, the looks of pity. And she had also wanted to get away from the not so well meaning taunts of others.

So she had run away from Delhi, to the Eco Lodge in Simla, and it was there that she had met him. Raman. And he had changed her life.

She remembered his smile - that slow sexy grin that curved his sensuous lips, reached up to his hazel hued eyes and crinkled them with lines of laughter. She remembered the feeling of surprise that she had felt when he first smiled at her, really smiled, with those eyes. Surprise and something else , a deep warmth that had filled her up and floored her with its intensity.

Was it then that she had embarked on the journey that changed her destiny? When he smiled at her that first time? She sighed as she shifted in her seat, trying to make herself comfortable. His smile, his dimples....

"Would you like a glass of water ma'am?" A smiling young flight attendant, a tray of water glasses in her hands, interrupted her thoughts as she stopped by her seat.

"No" Ishita smiled and shook her head. "Thank you. I'll just try and sleep."

She leaned back in her seat, closing her eyes. But sleep eluded her. Instead, her mind filled up with memories. Memories of Simla. Memories of him.

And so as the plane flew above the Southern Ocean, she sat back and reminisced.