"Falling in love with him was not like falling at all. It was like walking into a house and suddenly knowing that you were home."

~r.i.d~

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'It was a walk that changed their lives, mine at least,' thought Aabha later.

She had become so aware of Shaurya as they walked together; he was almost a head taller her, even in her two-inch heels she hardly reached his shoulder. But then that was the perfect height for her, she mused, if she just let herself go, she would be in his arms with her head resting against his heart and she wondered how it would be to feel his heartbeat in her ear. And he was so warm; she felt her hand burn in his. She looked down to see their fingers entwined, his hold firm yet gentle. As they walked, she noted the muscles of his legs ripple in the tight fitted jeans he wore and the images that they stirred sent tingles of heat through her. Even more distracting was the woodsy spicy cologne that he sported, each breath she took left her lightheaded.

Aabha did not fancy herself to be a romantic person; she thought she was a practical person who did not indulge in daydreams and definitely not in romantic fantasies. But that day had been very heavy for her and hearing about Nisha had made her quite despondent despite the curious joy she felt, especially when she noted that Shaurya did not seem to care about Nisha at all. So when she reached the gate of her colony and slowly pulled her hand free, she felt a strange tug in her heart. At that moment, unthinkingly, she simply gave in to what her heart asked; she smiled, stretched on her toes, gave a quick kiss on Shaurya's cheek which left him quite speechless and said, "That is both a thank you and a sorry, a thank you for Reyansh and a sorry for Nisha".

 And before Shaurya could recover sufficiently enough to say a word, she was gone.

Shaurya stood at the colony gate for a long time, looking at the doorway that Aabha had disappeared into. Her absence had seemed to steal something from him, his hands missed her tiny palms and he was still trying to make out if her kiss was for real. Finally, he turned and walked back to the coffee shop and the alley, where he had left his car, his thoughts full of Aabha.

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Aabha could never actually recall the individual minutes of their time together for the next few months. The days melded into the nights which again smoothly flowed into days, sprinkled with sparkling moments of their conversations. She could, however, pick some of them that shone and shimmered like stars and the memories of which left her feeling warm and fuzzy.

The first one she could recall was nothing out of the ordinary but then it was special because she had got something for him on a whim. She was at the bookstore and had chanced on a book which she felt would be appropriate for Shaurya, who still spoke about convincing her that true love exists. She knew that buying that particular book was a practical joke and hoped that he would see the humour in it but was also afraid that he could be offended. When she finally made up her mind to buy the book, she was undecided as to whether she should write the note she wanted to. She looked at the clerk who patiently waited for her to make up her mind and resolved to go ahead. She scribbled the note on the front page and gave it to the relieved clerk for having the book gift wrapped.

Aabha had waited till she was leaving for home and then held out the package to Shaurya, who had a questioning glance as he reached for it. She smiled, "It is nothing much, I chanced on it and thought it might be nice for you. But then, you will not open it now, I am not sure if you would like it and I do not want you to say that you like it, especially when I can make out that you would be quite amused that I got it for you." 

And bidding him goodnight, she stepped out of the shop.

However, Aabha was too curious to be able to resist not watching Shaurya's reaction; she knew he would wait because she had asked him to do so. In the time that he would wait, she quickly crossed the road to stand at the opposite corner; hidden in the shadows, she would be able to watch him without being seen. She could not see his face clearly but she knew that she would somehow know what he thought and that was important to her. She stopped being surprised by the constant need for his approval; she accepted that to her, it was as natural as the need to breathe. She saw him open the page and that he appeared to be lingering on her note. When she saw him reach for his pen, she smiled; he would be putting the date on that page. She knew that he would never read that book nor would it figure in any of their future conversations but somehow seeing him with that book elated her. She gave another soft smile and continued on her way home, without a backward glance.

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She also learnt that Shaurya was not always sunshine and light; there were times when he was storm and hailstones. He could be very cold and firm when needed to be and in fact the angrier he became, the quieter he grew. She realised that a furious Shaurya was an unflappable man who could simply burn you with the wrath he exuded. She was witness to it; it was during one of the numerous calls he attended to and she had been initially quite surprised as she noted his voice grow softer and his tone turn cold. But once the call was done, he was back to his smiling self, she was quite impressed by his ability to switch his moods; she could never do that.

And each night that he walked her home, he would don a protective avatar, always walking between the crowds and her, as though he was her human shield. In the beginning, she was amused, until she realised that it was second nature to him and it was not a chauvinistic trait but a reflection of respect for her. 

But what had remained etched was his reaction when a couple of adolescent boys had whistled at her. Aabha, as was her wont, had ignored them; she believed that such behaviour did not warrant any acknowledgment. Shaurya had stopped in his tracks and walked to the boys in quick strides, she could not hear what he said, but it must have been very effective. Aabha was entertained when two very ashen-faced boys, who in trembling tones, kept apologising till Shaurya deemed it sufficient, after which they disappeared. She would have laughed if she had not noticed that Shaurya's face still carried the vestiges of anger. When they reached her colony, she had lightly touched him on the shoulder and said, "It is okay, Shaurya, I really do not even notice it any longer. I take it as a compliment so that it does not even sting anymore." 

He had replied in an even clipped tone, "Compliments are not those that degenerate women to a mere sex object, I will not tolerate it happen with anyone, especially those I care for, it does not happen on my watch." 

And he had walked back without a word.

She had stared for quite some time at darkness into which he had disappeared, unable to reconcile the apparently contradicting aspects of him; she was not sure how someone who could display such fury could also show such concern till she understood that he was furious because he cared. He was a person who cared with a passion, be it work or people and when anyone appeared to fail to perform to the exacting standards he set or dared to harm the people he cared about, he was rage personified.

Aabha also realised that his anger took two different forms, when related to work it was like fire - quick to rise, burnt hot and fizzled out almost instantaneously, no grudges, no singe marks. But if it was rage because someone hurt a person whom he cared for, the rage that consumed him would be ice cold; it was a frozen fury that burnt and left the recipient scalded and scarred.

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And then was the day when Shaurya had her discard those glasses. As had become their routine since the day she had first asked, Shaurya walked her home and nearing their colony gate, he had abruptly stopped and stood staring at her with an intent look. She waited for a couple of minutes, before lightly punching him on his arm and asked, "What has now happened that you are so lost?"

He had smiled and answered, "The next time you have some free time let us go to an eyewear store, I am not one of those chauvinistic men who think less of women who wear glasses but I dislike people who try to hide behind such crutches." 

He had then gently removed those glasses, folded them and placing them in her hands, said, "I am sure you wear these gigantic, ugly glasses simply to keep people away, you do not need to do that. Those who have to step into your life will do that anyway and not wearing them would not stop those who want to leave. Wear them only if you need them to read and not to drive away people."

Aabha was simply too stupefied to react and when he bent even closer she was sure that she had stopped breathing, she could hear her heart beat to a steady drum and wondered if he could hear it too. He smiled gently and murmured, "And those glasses do not even disguise the fact that you have the largest and the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen. They are such a lovely brown; warm honey and full of mirth when you are happy, dark chocolate and dull when sad and burnt coffee and stormy when you are angry. Sometimes, I am sure that drowning in them is the only way I can live." 

Taking full advantage of her stunned silence, he leant in and kissed her softly on the corner of her lips and walked off.

It was then that Aabha realised that whether she believed in love or not, she was falling hopelessly in love with Shaurya.

And this is where this chapter ends, so how was the walk? Quite a long walk, right? One that finally has Ms I-do-not-believe-love-exists admit to falling in love. Please do let me know your view and despite sounding repetitive, do remember, all feedback, good or bad is welcome.

love,
Nyna