In no way are we unlucky for not having our wish granted. Yes, we worshipped PaNi as a couple for eternity, and at some point, we fans were granted that wish. Their relationship now is much more wholesome than a romantic relationship and in their happiness lies ours... right from day one.

Niti looks gorgeous in her sagai waali pictures :") main bhi kar loon shaadi agar ladki itni patakhaa lagi toh! ;) So only happy tears now, and I'm so grateful to see the pure bliss on her face, and that eternal glow that no hope of any kind could supress <3

With love, a PaNi lover, Krishi :3

⭒⭒⭒

Manik

She didn't dare look at me that day when she concluded I was a teacher as our bodies bumped. For the first time, in the history of Manik Malhotra, I didn't feel like the 'principal's son'–a boy who had a name, a form of power, in the school.

With her came a dimension of my life that I hadn't explored yet. She was new and hence was I. In the haze of foggy glass confines and bath bomb scents, I could vividly see a short silhouette scurrying around the campus like a lost source of light finding its way out. Ironically, if it may seem, that was our beginning and our end.

I shut the sizzling hot shower head off. The subterranean chills were soothing against the humidity in the city. Before dabbing myself squeaky clean and dry, I peeked a look into the mirror beside the bathroom door that did very little to conceal conversations behind it.

"Do you want to head out tonight? Let's go to the clubs." A walk-in closet was enclosed behind the beds. I hummed Luke Comb's Hurricane while slicking my hair behind with a curly metal headband. I believed that look made me a lot like younger Manik Malhotra again, and that was who I suddenly wanted to be.

"Hey Manik, you would know right, which clubs in the city are the best?" Oh, so now they need me. It was typical, how when favours were required, people would be the nicest to you, and otherwise, they couldn't give a damn less. Bill's dress coat was draped over the only chair in that room. I smirked to myself before pulling a cigarette out of his stash. Just a payback and he couldn't protest.

They eyed me, and then the board that hung behind the main door–no smoking, but didn't dare say a word. I fiddled around for a lighter which, once was tendered to me, triggered my response. "Best in what sense? Cheap booze, or more slutty women to nail, or music you can vibe to, or..." The white burning tip etched into ashes, one millimetre every second, just like my patience with those men.

"Conventional, Indian-style nightclubs." Did they mean kohttas, the conventional Indian brothels? Nevertheless, I didn't want to be rude to them for no reason. That zone was only reserved for people who messed with me or people whose lives I wanted to dig myself into: for lack of a better approach.

"Umm... There's one in Worli." I slipped my phone out. I was then scanned from head to toe. Black sweatpants and loose grey sports tanks didn't quite match party outfit standards, not even in Mumbai. "Are you not joining?"

"I am so tired, so jetlagged..." I was quick to come up with something convincing. "But you guys should go, have fun. Take Cabir with you." Definitely, they all preferred Cabir's company over mine, which turned out great for me, I reckon.

I hunched over the balcony rails, resting both my elbows on it. Outside was a spitting sky mixing with the warmth in the air, being swished around by the winds. I smiled, before taking a hefty blow off the filter and threw my head back, inviting the familiar high from high-school. God, she hated the smell of it; yet the suffocation it brought within was more comforting to me than anything else at that point of time.

The room vacated quickly, with Cabir passing a blunt fleeting look at the pipe between my fingers before making a move. He was possibly wondering where the urge came from, or maybe knew the answer to it already, but his expressions didn't change. The promise...

Then, pushing my back onto the bars, I typed a quick message and sent it without a proof-read.

⭒

21 August 2010

Rishabh was admitted in the ICU close to midnight this morning. We were all in the hospital for sixteen hours, frightened to death, yet I didn't go see him, not once.

Sometimes I wonder, what in the world did we do wrong that we had the most unfortunate circumstances I could think of. It was supposed to be a regular thing by now: Rishabh's attacks, but I struggled to come to terms with it; even after seven years, it felt the same–foreign–to me. They were abrupt, convulsive and mentally distressing, I sensed it. I couldn't help him.

Abhimanyu stayed put in the visiting aisle with me, giving me verbal cues on his wellbeing: from which finger of his moved, to what was his pulse rate when it shot higher than necessary. Chikkamma and Chikkappa didn't get a minute's sleep all day. I caught them yawning a couple of times, but they would brush it off with a coffee or some food and tablets.

"Nandu, keep her phone beta, let us know if any updates come through. I'll get some coffee." I nodded to my uncle while adjusting the textbook on my lap. My Biology assignment was due the coming week, and the vibe around me didn't accommodate my needs. Plus, my focus wasn't even in it.

Abhi glanced at me several times as I pulled my hair into a bun, and then two minutes later would let it down only to tie it up again. He fit in one of the iron chairs beside me, scooting over to my side promptly.

"Hey..." My books were taken away, folded and arranged beside him. Our sides touched as he wrapped his arm around my shoulder. "Are you... okay?" The strain lines on his face were evident as if telling another story. It wasn't any easier on him–Rishabh was his brother as well. I caged him in my arms, tightening my hold around his waist. He pulled me in closer, perhaps closing his eyes too, and why not, we were two siblings sharing each other's sorrow.

"Hospitals are scary." I murmured in his chest, vividly recalling a set of events similar to our current situation.

There wasn't much else that was on our priority list that day; Rishabh responded well to the treatment, but we all knew that was only temporary. Such attacks could occur anytime, and with any intensity that could be fatal–nobody knew what triggered it, but that was another thing that secretly motivated us to pursue science as a field of study.

I'll see you tomorrow, Babbu.

Nandu

⭒

Manik

Attacks–Dhruv. That was the analogy I grew up with. Dhruv, he was my brother, at least like one. I loved him more than I loved myself. Dhruv was there with me that day, the day of the infamous meteor explosion.

It was an isolated road in one of the residential colonies of the city. Three boys walked into the sun that peeked through the valleys shining brighter like a freshly cut plum. "So this is us, Harshad, Dhruv and Manik... the Band Of Brothers..." A lonely young boy from a broken home bounced a football from side to side on the right while another from the left, about seven years old, pulled the cap that he was wearing lower and the one in the middle held a guitar bag as tall as him.

At a distance came another vision. "Ooo... Shooting star..." The one with the football pointed into the sky that spluttered with tiny illuminating white dots.

"Make a wish, buddy." I complied and closed my eyes, murmuring an innocent prayer to make my mother more kind to my sister and me.

Out of nowhere came a push, and I was blinded by a bright white light. When I could register what happened, the road behind us caught fire. Dhruv was there lying unconscious by the flames that quickly engulfed the trees on either side, lighting them like it was Diwali. Harshad was nowhere to be seen. I looked either side for some means to save my little friend, who sacrificed himself for me.

Looking to my left and right, the vision seemed to fade. The burning forests were no more; instead, I was in a room lavishly decorated with wood–its remains. I straightened my back, dropping a few burnt bits of the cigar into the page I was reading. My subconscious pictured Nandini with me; her book was her voice, her words were hers alone. Whether I liked it or not, Nandini took me back to a time in my life when I knew I wasn't a total fuck-up. Thanks, Nandini.

⭒

24 August 2010

Babbu, it's been long, and I missed you! But from today, remember haan, we both hate this Manik Malhotra; he's a horrible guy!

I scoffed at that phrase. I second that.

See, my Biology assignment is due tomorrow. I have been working on it day and night all weekend; I didn't even get the time to update you. The good thing was I got it done with Aryamann's help last minute, for which he came over. Obviously, if a friend comes across for some work, we're going to have a little fun also, right? So I was arranging my assignment sheets in order while Aryamann was watching a famous YouTuber and cracking up loudly.

Abhi was home then; otherwise, I wasn't allowed to have any guy friends over when Chikkamma and Chikkappa weren't there. I believe all was good until Manik realised I was in the house too, just when I realised as well. Oh, and Manik is the guy who created so much drama at the party that night, and I was hoping I would never see him again, but no! He and Abhi are like glue and paper! *rolls eyes*

"Oh... look who we have here!" His tone was sardonic, though his face beamed disgracefully. It took me a second to believe he was actually in the house with me. Yes, I didn't want any trouble, but how? Manik and trouble were synonyms. He took slow, stiff steps until he could comfortably reach... my assignment sheets. "Cell Theory!" He mocked at the title, and I tried to reach out to snatch it back.

He held it higher–Aiyappa blessed him with some height, unfortunately–smirking at the papers instead of me. At that point, I resorted to standing on the bed.

"Manik, give it back, I swear," I grumbled under my breath. He paused for a second and looked me in the eye, may be surprised that I knew his name–for he had not once mentioned it. Before I could decipher anything else, he pressed his smile, looked me up and down ridiculing my height that was still no match to his, and then nodded to himself in acceptance. I didn't like how he always tried to create problems for me, for no reason, in fact.

I heard a chuckle from him, breaking me from a train of outrageousness. "You swear what, darling?" As he was distracted with trying to outsmart me, I noticed the stack low enough for me to get hold of it. I caught them briskly, but he pulled it back, with an imperceptible strength, that some of them ripped off while the others crumpled down and slid out of our grips.

The room echoed a few reflexive gasps. Aryamann stood up in concern while I found the uncountable hours of my hard-work being shred to pieces beneath my feet. How could someone be so ruthless? He didn't have the slightest idea of the amount of effort I put into making it perfect for the submission. It was my first opportunity to make an impression to my teachers, but he wrecked it, without a tinge of mercy in his bones.

"Ohh tch tch... they're in shreds now!" His hands were on his mouth, dramatically enacting my pain in a heartless manner though. I was on the verge of breaking down, learning that in no way could I mend things and hand in my report on time, with a little over twelve hours to go. My distress found only one earnest expedient.

I grabbed his undone uniform collar, the problem that was in my reach, and jolted him back into his senses hopefully. "What the hell is wrong with you? Do you know how long it took me to draft that?!" I was screaming clinging to him, and the pride in him slowly dissipated as he stood still. To me, at that moment, he stood like a gutless seahorse–rigid but futile.

Aryamann felt sorry for me but was just as scared of Manik, so he did nothing to solve the tiff between us. He became a useless, mute spectator. Once Manik stopped responding to my infuriation, I helplessly burst into tears.

I was never so weak until I came to Mumbai. Manik was confused, so he glared at Aryamann, unaware of what to do to escape the situation he was trapped in but that only frightened Aryamann further. My attention drifted to my snug clasp on his shirt, which I then withdrew. That left us all in a moment of reflection within ourselves.

"Aryamann, you leave." I sniffed as I hopped off the bed and began fetching the remaining shreds which might be of some aid. I got a sorrowful look from him as he took his stuff and walked away sadly, hoping I would be okay. I didn't know where I dared to let myself be alone with Manik.

Aryamann peeped back into the room from the door-hinge, doubtfully, and then left once neither of us looked his way. Manik quietly watched me pick the pieces. His hand reached for my elbow. "Listen..." He obviously tried to be polite by mellowing his voice down, but it wasn't helping.

I flinched, passing him a stern scowl with blazing bloodshot eyes darting their shots at him. "Don't... even try."

He grunted, before shaking his head in disbelief. He pulled me towards himself in a jerky motion, causing those papers to fall again. "LISTEN!" That time I did. He took a second to brace himself, which I wasn't expecting. "This would be a lesson good enough for you to learn then. This is what will happen to you if you hang out... with douchebags."

"WHO THE HELL ARE YO...?" And I felt a hand slam my mouth shut. I was supported by his arm around my back, but I still felt forced, even though he wasn't hurting me. The need to protest just came instinctively. I hit his chest with both my fists repeatedly, struggling out of his grip, but his strength was no match against mine.

"Sss... You cannot shut up, can you?" He hissed in annoyance. I had enough, of him and the stupid tricks he used to bully his juniors, out of which I was one. That's how I even knew his name: the whole school knows him as the bad guy, today he proved it. I finally closed my eyes in defeat, because I despised even his presence.

Slowly, I felt his tight grip become a mere touch. Through the closed lids, the psychic in me sensed him staring.

"Manik!" Abhi directed himself into the situation like a parent in command, and both of us turned to him. Manik let go of me instantly, and I looked up at him, confused. Abhi spotted the dry trails of tears down my cheeks. I dodged him swiftly through the doorway, making two heads turn my way.

I hid behind the wall outside my room, with my hands behind my back, and let my tears fall. "Why is she crying?" I could hear their conversation crystal clear.

"Listen, Manik, I know you're my best friend, but she's my sister. She means everything to me." I heard footsteps retreating my way, and I dashed downstairs quickly, wiping away my tears while trying to figure out how to clear the mess I was stuck in.

Also, Abhi is not seeing that pretty girl, Alia. His eyes are on Mukti I guess, who is already in love with Harshad–the guy who happens to be Navya's current crush! Aiyappa, what kind of messed-up school is this, where everyone wants a commitment from those who are already committed?

Nothing else was of much significance, oh but I told Navya about Manik that night at the party (not all the details, of course) and she thinks I had it the easiest that night when compared to every other junior in this school that was targeted and harassed; maybe today's story will change that conclusion, but yeah, anyways we all hate Manik Malhotra now.

Chalo! That means 'I'll see you' in this context, it seems, Navya told me. Goodnight Babbu!

Nandu

⭒

Manik

To everyone else, she could've been an angel, but for me, she was one hell of a roller-coaster.

In my defence, it didn't even occur to me that she could be anyone's sister, no offence to her or her brother. I was wholly surprised that she was hanging out with a boy, in a room, after school alone. The sight of her with someone like Aryamann, who could be a potential threat to my chimaera, bombed my brains out.

I didn't think straight, I wanted to mess with the two of them, but not once did I think it would be Nandini's assignment I would be ruining. I was stupid, pathetically stupid. To date, I would be just the same man when it came to her; maybe that was where the problem lied. I never changed. I didn't intend to scare her or hurt her, but I did; I earned the 'hate' title.

My subconscious reminded me that I deserved that, anyways. Nandini makes me see the worst in myself.

My ringtone pierced through the silence of my isolation. I pushed the book away on the desk and checked the caller ID before filling my lungs. "Manik... baby, thank God..." She sounded more than relieved, which was supposed to be a good thing.

I flashed a small smile that she couldn't see anyways through the call. "Hey. How are you?"

"I'm breathing fine now. I am so so glad you called..." I could picture her murmuring something to Allah. I threw my head back on the wall, in anticipation: of hope, of change, of light. "What are you doing in Mumbai? I want to see you."

"No, Diyah," came my immediate response. The cigarette that I'd squished off, I grabbed once more, lighting it. "Not now." God, damn it, only then I had to choke on the pipe.

"Manik... Are you smoking?" I didn't bother answering. "You never smoke."

I half-laughed if that was even a thing. "Who said so?" Was she holding her tears back, or were they just a sudden outburst, I didn't know.

"Manik, please... I love you. I will make everything okay. Just don't leave me, please." From that distance, even she knew there was no way she could butt in and mend things: that made her more helpless.

"Diyah... Go to sleep, you need it."

⭒⭒⭒

I'm not sorry for disappearing, because I really needed that time to myself <3 I hope you enjoyed this part, and if anyone doesn't like the story or how it's progressing... it doesn't matter, I love it and that's the important part <3

I hope you had a great weekend so far! See y'all :3