Taking a deep breath, she walked up to his room, her feet trembling, her heart quaking. She paused at the door, and then seeing it was open, she took another deep breath and walked in.

The room was empty.

She realised she had been holding her breath, and exhaled loudly. Tentatively, she walked towards the bathroom, but one glance confirmed her suspicions - that was empty too.

Where was Raman she wondered. He must have known I would come when I saw the note and the album. Or does he feel that he has lost me forever, that I don't trust him enough anymore to believe him when he says that he loves me?"

No, if that was the case, he would not have left the gift for her. Would not have left the note. She knew him at least that much. He still had hope for them, and that meant he would be expecting her.

Ishita felt a wave of anticipation engulf her again.

"Raman...   " It was a yearning that escaped her lips, his name spoken aloud verbalizing all her pent up emotions.

She needed to see him now, to hear him say what he had written, to confirm that what she had been seeing in his eyes for the past month was more than just guilt and regret, to know, to finally know for herself, that it was love...

Pukaro tum kahan ho pukaro
Mujh ko yun na rulao Ho kahan tum bulao

If he wasn't here, then he must be downstairs, she reasoned. Maybe he had not come up at all. Yes - he must be waiting for her downstairs.

She turned on her heel and ran out of the room, slowing down when she got to the staircase, willing her wildly beating heart to slow down.

"Calm down Ishita" she told herself sternly. "You don't need to run. He is waiting. Just go calmly" And then she took a few deep breaths, before determinedly walking down the stairs.

***************************************
The hall was dimly lit and silent, the front door closed. There was no one there. Neither the chef, nor the butler and nor her husband.

Ishita stood in the hall, looking around uncertainly, disappointment flooding her heart.

Where was he? How could he just do something so sweet, so life changing for them both and then just... disappear?

"Raman" she called several times. "Raman. Kahan ho? Koi hai?"
(Raman. Raman, where are you? Is there anyone here?)

Getting no response, she went around the hall, looking into each dim recess as she passed by.

"Raman" she called again. "Raman"

But there was no response.

Khelo na humjoli Mujh se ankh micholi
Shaam hui ghar chali Panchiyon ki toliii

She was getting worried now, wondering where he was, when her eye was caught by some curtains towards the back of the hall, swaying, billowing in the wind. She walked quickly to the place and saw that the curtains covered french doors leading to the back garden. And the doors were slightly ajar.

Her nervousness abated a bit as she peered outside, looking to see if he was out there.

Of course, he must have gone into the garden.

Her eyes misted a bit as she remembered the little walks they had used to take at home. He always liked to walk after dinner - he must be in the garden, he must be waiting for her there. She was determined now to talk to him straight away, there could be no more waiting.

She opened the door and walked out into the garden.

***************************************
The garden was huge, flowerbeds and shrubs, fruit and flower trees, all artistically arranged, with carefully curated statues and garden seats, all set in pristine manicured lawns. The entire area was lit up with random garden lights , and ground lights marked a meandering path through the lawns, which snaked into a dark and hooded grove of trees, just beyond the garden.

Apart from some isolated gusts of wind, the garden appeared quiet and absolutely silent.

It should have been eerie, but it wasn't, because she knew that Raman was there, somewhere, waiting for her. She followed the path, hope dancing and singing in her heart... She was going to her love... She was going to her Raman.

***************************************
Raman stamped his feet impatiently as the forlorn looking butler tried for the umpteenth time to open the lock on the door to the double garages at the side of the mansion.

"Kya, yaar" he exclaimed in annoyance, fast losing his temper.
(What the hell?)

He had driven the car the short distance to the garage in record time, but now here he was twiddling his thumbs while this fool of a man tried to unlock the damned doors.

"Khulta nahi toh todh dalo"  he snarled (If it doesn't open, then break the damned thing). He knew he was being unfair to the poor butler, who Mihir had probably warned about his Raman bhai's temper, and he would need to leave him a huge tip when they left tomorrow to make up for his boorishness, but he couldn't help it.

His heart and mind could only think of one person, could only focus on one objective. Ishita.

Ishita. She must surely have gone to his room by now. She must be wondering where he was. What if she thought he was trying to avoid her, that his declaration of love had not been sincere, what if... Oh God, when would this bloody door open.

"Here, move" he pushed aside the butler who had just returned with a pair of bolt cutters,and taking the instrument from his hand, forcefully attacked the padlock. The lock was in pieces within moments, and ordering the butler to open the doors, Raman rushed back into the car.

Within minutes he had parked the car and was striding back to to the front doors of the mansion.

He looked around curiously as he went - the atmosphere which had been strangely silent and oppressive fifteen minutes ago when he had come outside, had metamorphosed dramatically. Cool winds were whistling through the eaves and the leaves on the trees surrounding the house rustled ominously. A slight drizzle of rain was starting to fall, and the heaviness in the air prophesised a forthcoming deluge.

He had just opened the doors and walked in when the all the lights inside and outside went off.

***************************************
Ishita. She would be alone, up there in the dark, in this strange place.

An irrational fear took hold of Raman. He frantically turned the torch on his mobile phone on, and headed towards the stairs.

"Theheriye , Sahib" it was the butler. " Mein batti laata hoon. Yahaan bijli hamesha chali jaata hai"
(Wait sir, I'll get a lantern. The power often goes off here)

"Jaldi" ( Quick) Raman snapped.  "Ishita" he shouted towards the stairs. "Just stay there, I'll get a lamp"

The butler had returned surrounded by the glow of two bright LED lanterns. Raman grabbed one from him and sprinted up the stairs.

"Ishita" he called rushing into first her room and then his. He looked into the bathrooms, peered down the empty passage " Ishita" he called again, with growing desperation.

Where was she?

The butler had followed him upstairs by now.

"Madamji neeche bhi nahi hai sahib" he said anxiously. "Lekin garden pe jaane wale darwaze khule hai, aur woh madrassi cook kehta hai ki shayad madamji ko garden mein jaate hue dekha tha, kuch dus minute pehle. Woh phone par tha, isliye kuch keh nahi pata"
(Madam isn't downstairs either Sir. But the doors to the garden are open, and the madrassi  chef is saying that perhaps he saw madam going into the garden, some ten minutes ago. He was on the phone so he couldn't say anything)

The garden

The words were barely out of the butlers mouth before Raman was running down the stairs. Lord, it was so dark outside, and the rain had picked up too. And his Ishita was out there. Alone. In this strange place.

He rushed through the French doors, only to be greeted by an inky pool of darkness, punctuated by flashes of lightning, and a steadily thickening wall of rain. Uncaring of the rain, Raman rushed out onto the garden pathway, his way illuminated by the lantern he was carrying.

"Ishita" he was screaming now at the top of his voice. "Ishita, Kahan ho tum?Ishita"
( Ishita. Ishita, where are you? Ishita)

***************************************
Ishita had been in the garden for a few minutes when she noticed that the wind had changed and a slight drizzle had started to fall. She had been softly calling Raman's name, but had received no response.

Perhaps she should just go back into the house, she decided, shivering as minute drops of rain settled on her. Raman didn't seem to be out here after all.

The distant sounds of thunder reinforced her decision and she turned back towards the mansion, it's lights a beacon to guide her steps.

She was still some distance from the door, on the garden path, when without warning, all the lights went off.

She was left in pitch black darkness, just as the heavens burst open, the rain started beating down relentlessly, and the distant thunder approached closer, rumbling ominously.

Aiyo. Ishita stood rooted to the spot. This wasn't such a smart idea. How do I get back now? And where is Raman ? He had better come find me

"Raman" she screamed. " Raman". But her voice was drowned out by the rain.

Kohra sa hai chaaya Andhera ghir aaya
Akele mein ghabraye, yeh komal kaaya

She tried tentatively to move forward, but the lashing rain and pitch blackness was making her lose her orientation and sense of direction. She could feel her feet slipping and stretched out her hands to break her fall. Her hands encountered the trunk of a tree, but it was not enough to break the momentum of her fall.

Her foot twisted sharply beneath her and she fell forward. As she fell, her head hit the tree trunk as well. She fell onto the thick lawn, off the footpath, momentarily stunned.

"Ishita"

Raman was running up the path now, the glow of the lantern fighting vainly against the darkness and the rain.

He was uncaring of the rain drenching through his clothes, the thunder booming overhead, the flashes of lightning close by - one thought, and one thought only was in his mind. To find his Ishita. His love. His wife. His life.

The realisation that Ishita was out there, in this storm, in the darkness was driving him crazy with anxiety.

Desperation laced his voice as he screamed out her name. "Ishita" he cried " Ishita"

Raman was vaguely aware that the butler had followed him out with another lantern, but he was beyond caring as to who witnessed his deewangi, his desperation, his longing for his wife.

Nothing could happen to her, not now, not when he was finally aware of just how much he loved her, no, nothing could happen to his Ishita.

As he ran up the path, his foot struck something soft. With his heart in his mouth, he turned the lantern downwards.

His worst fears seemed to be coming true... Ishita was lying on the lawn beneath a large mango tree, her left foot twisted beneath her, and her left arm lying across the footpath. It was her arm that his foot had struck.

He dropped to his knees, shattered, pulling her into his arms with trembling hands. She was so still, unresponsive, and fear lashed at him, filling his eyes with tears and his heart with anxiety. The lantern fell from his hand and rolled across the footpath. He cradled her head on his lap, the tears from his eyes mixing with the rain streaking across his face.

"Ishita" he whispered. " My love, meri jaan. Ankhen kholo. Ankhen kholo Ishita. Meri Ishita. Meri zindagi, meri subkuch ho tum. Ishita. Get up, dammit. Please be okay. I can't live without you. Mar jaonga main. Ishita"
(Ishita. My love, my life. Open your eyes. Open your eyes Ishita. My Ishita. My life, you're my everything. Ishita. Get up, dammit. Please be okay. I can't live without you. I'll die Ishita)

The butler had reached them now.

"Sir" he said urgently, shining the lantern on Raman and the prone figure in his arms. "Aap madam ko andar lekar chaliye." (Sir, please let's take madam inside)

Raman stared at him unseeingly.

"Saab" the man repeated. " Chaliye, warna madam ki tabiyat aur kharab ho jayegi".
(Sir, please let's go, otherwise madam's condition will get worse)

The man's urgent entreaties snapped Raman back into action. As he scooped Ishita into his arms and stood up, he could feel her heartbeat through the now soaked thin cotton Kurta she wore. An instantaneous wave of relief washed through him and he felt he could breath again.

"Ishita" he whispered again, as he started striding briskly behind the butler, towards the house, carrying his wife in his arms.

He remembered how he had fought with her when her new shoes had been biting her feet, how he had lifted her then, only to dump her into the nearest auto. Well, he would carry her for the rest of his life now, be her servant, her slave, if only she would be okay.

"Ishita" he whispered again. And Ishita opened her eyes.

Pukaro tum kahan ho pukaro
Mujh ko yun na rulao
Ho kahan tum bulao
Pukaro tum kahan ho pukaro

Khelo na humjoli Mujh se ankh micholi
Khelo na humjoli Mujh se ankh micholi
Shaam hui ghar chali Panchiyon ki toliii

Pukaro tum kahan ho pukaro
Pukaro tum kahan ho pukaro

Kohra sa hai chaaya Andhera ghir aaya
Kohra sa hai chaaya Andhera ghir aaya
Akele mein ghabraye, yeh komal kaaya

Pukaro tum kahan ho pukaro
Pukaro tum kahan ho pukaro

Khelo na humjoli Mujh se ankh micholi
Khelo na humjoli Mujh se ankh micholi
Shaam hui ghar chali Panchion ki toli

Pukaro tum kahan ho pukaro
Pukaro tum kahan ho pukaro
Mujh ko yun na rulao
Ho kahan tum bulao
Pukaro tum kahan ho pukaro
Pukaro tum kahan ho pukaro

Runa Laila