chapter : 24
mistaken souls

heyy! how are you all doing?

this chapter is a very important addition and requirement. :)

we are well into the 24th chapter today. how are you all liking the book so far? it would mean a lot if you could take some time out and let me know your views on the book. :)

85

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k a b i r
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Well, one thing I have realised is that love actually works like a sedative.

I have heard people often lose their sleep whilst being deeply and madly in love, but me? I think it has the opposite effect on me. For one, I have this wrong but very tempting urge to shut down my phone, throw it away and snuggle close with my wife to sleep, again.

I am still holding my phone, my arm feels a little achy due to being in the same position the entire night, rightfully so, around Noor. But, now it feels a little rigid and the person calling me at six in the morning does nothing to make me feel joyous.

I had been ruthlessly woken by my cell phone's ringing, I had extended my sour arm in an attempt to search for it, and once found I had quickly silenced it so that it wouldn't stir Noor's sleep.

It's my grandfather. The phone's still blazing with his contact flashing on the lock screen. It had once cut but he is relentless. I am not sure if I really want to pick his call up. I have had a very good night, and if he has called to nag me about something—it would spoil it.

I love him. But, he has been acting insolently these days. He does come to the office and instead of talking business and about my happy married life, he focuses on reciting how love can make a man weak. I am being tolerant of jabs directed at me, but I know what he had done behind my back.

Noor had mistakenly spilt the words of advice my grandfather decided to push towards her. She hadn't meant to, but one night over dinner while I was telling her about dinner with my Pa, she had nonchalantly uttered how she loved the pasta. I didn't even know she had gone there. Well, she was forcefully invited there, without me, precisely.

I have been harbouring that anger ever since. I pushed her to tell me what they spoke about. She kept denying but at last, she gave in. Telling me everything.

So now not only am I angry at him for giving me this treatment, I am also vexed at this audacity for disrespecting my wife. I have avoided him since that day, I knew confrontation with him would only lead to our fight.

But today, he has taken that step himself. I wait for the call to cut. If he doesn't call back, we'll still have our relation intact, strained but intact. But, if he calls again, he is in for the grand reveal and confrontation.

It goes off. Not even a second later, he is calling me back. Well...

"Hello?" My voice sounds groggy. I am whispering, seeing Noor's face resting on my chest.

"You aren't the one to sleep in." It's freaking seven in the morning, on a Sunday.

"It's Sunday."

"I have known you all your life. You don't sleep a minute later than six."

"I slept late."

"Is it because of her?"

"You mean, my wife?"

"Kabir..." He sighs disappointedly. It irritates me, I am in no mood to entertain this so early in the morning. I wanted to wake up along with Noor. To talk to her, to confess, to try to explain what I feel for her.

I am still me. I am still going to be afraid of love. I still carry the baggage of my insecurities and confusions but I want to unpack it. And I want to do it with her.

I had envisioned this morning so differently, waking up together, and cooking breakfast together. Spending more time.

"Son, come to our house. I want to have breakfast with you."

"Can we do it a little later?"

"Kabir. Breakfast, now. Certain things have gone wrong."

I stare at the ceiling and then close my eyes. Trying to decide what I should be doing.

"It's not an option, son. Come soon." The call clicks off. Well then, we have an important conversation waiting ahead of us.

I carefully keep my phone back on the table. Raising my neck a little, a shooting pain runs through me. Fuck. It's gone stiff. We aren't ever sleeping on the sofa ever again.

My eyes traitorously trace the contours of my wife's face as she lies so peacefully. She looks so cute, deeply engrossed, and relaxed at the same time. I spend an unhealthy amount of time just staring at her. She is so beautiful. And I am so fucking lucky.

Knowing that I do need to get up and start my way to Pa's house, I get up quietly. My entire body throbs, as if it's a sign. A signal to stop me from going there and for spending the rest of the morning with my wife, just taking her back to the bed.

We need a more comfortable sofa.

Her fingers are clutching the neck of my tee, fisting it in a tight grip. I smile at her gesture. Something tells me she doesn't want me to go either. Well, same.

I still get up, picking my wife along. I walk towards my room but stop. What if she gets up and feels weird by the change of rooms? I should leave this choice to her. If she wants to move to my room I don't mind shifting to hers, too.

But, starting today we aren't sleeping in separate bedrooms.

I change my direction back to her room, carefully placing her on the soft mattress. Covering her with the comforter, I admire her. Her eyebrow twitches slightly and her nose cutely bobs at the change of beds, but it doesn't disturb her sleep.

A selfish part of me wants to peck her puckered and pouted lips but I know it would be wrong. Any further step in our relationship should be by both of our consents. I am completely in, but I need to wait for her.

I settle in for a soft peck on her forehead, lingering there for some time before pulling myself back. Once I am back, I am going to try and talk to her. Attempt at it at the very least.

Glancing at her for the last time, I turn around and head to my room.

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"Do you love her?"

I am still not awake completely and my grandfather has suddenly decided to play this question-answer game. I was woken up by his call at seven in the morning when it was still partially dark outside.

My grandfather asked me to join him directly for his morning run followed by breakfast. So here we are sitting across from each other, having cups of tea and discussing my life.

"I asked you a question."

"I married her."

"Love and marriage aren't the same." He is quick with his response. Is he really the same man I knew who loved and cherished his wife so much? He used to come back home earlier to surprise her, cook for her and take her out every week.

Does love really ruin you so much? Make you so barren and dead once it leaves?

"Was Grandma a financial transaction as well?"

He is caught off guard, he pauses and freezes. The teacup is harshly put down. I have definitely hit an untouched nerve, I can see how his eyes constrict and his jaw tics.

"How dare you say something like this about your grandmother? Have you lost all your manners?"

"Did it hurt?"

"Kabir Sood, I will not allow you to speak so lowly of my wife. Get up and leave immediately."

"If I can't speak so lowly of your wife, who gave you the right to disrespect my wife?"

The things he told her, the way he spoke to her. I had already told Noor how love scares me, and still does but I didn't want her to feel so alienated, so disrespected and like a use-and-throw tissue.

"What do you mean?"

"Work was never your priority. You always, always, chose and still choose grandmother over anyone. You both didn't have a love marriage but you still ended up loving her. You loved her so much and so look at you now. Lost, bitter and spiteful."

"Kabir!"

"Does it hurt to be shown the mirror? When I was young, you made me believe in love and when I grew older, it was because of you that it scared the living shit out of me. How can I give so much love and end up so bitter at the end?"

"I—" He is shaken. Disturbed. He is at a loss of words but he needs to know what he has made of me.

"I respect you. I love you, Pa. But, I can't follow you. You turned me so much against the love that the one woman I genuinely feel for, hasn't heard me saying those words to her."

An emotion so pure was terrorised for me. It scared me, hurt me, wounded me. A wound so deep that the blood still hasn't dried.

How can I find a way to stitch it up, to express my feelings to my wife? The past experiences have left me so charred that it took me so much time to even accept that I really do have feelings for her.

There was no one stupid incident that made me realise that I like her, that I love her. Her showing care towards me wasn't what made me fall for her, that's too minuscule.

I had fallen for every moment we spent together. Every banter, every fight, every small act of care, every small moment that we shared, all those things made me realise my love. No one tiny incident is strong enough to whisk someone away.

Love is an ocean, every tiny drop of water acts like a catalyst. The smallest of small things, be it silly or important, pushes you towards this feeling. It's deeper than one can imagine. Deeper than any other emotion.

Having someone, unexpectedly, take a place in your heart and mind, who touches your soul in a way even you haven't. It's rare. Noor, for me, is someone I never imagined, she is so different and yet so similar. I have spent so much time with her already and yet my heart never allowed me to sense that what I feel is different than any other normal feeling.

It was spending those moments, that stolen seconds and minutes with her that made me let loose, to loosen the string that had my hands scratched by merely holding on them so tightly.

And now that I am on a path of acceptance, expressing it makes me nervous. There are too many questions, too many theories, and so less of examples around.

I have seen love stories hail around, my Pa and GrandMa, my mother and father but none of those are still alive for me to learn. To grow and embrace them.

"I am sorry." He is looking down, thinking and retrospecting.

"I—Well, it's true. I became so bitter that the one thing that motivated me to live, I was trying to take away from you. I always wanted you to settle down, hence used the force but when you did, I thought what if you end up like me? I warned Noor so that if she goes first, you don't end up living like me but what I forgot was that even if I hate to be alone, I have memories that will last me my lifetime. How could I rip you from that chance? I am genuinely sorry, my son. I haven't been the best guardian but I will try to become better. For you. For your grandmother. Because you both deserve my best version."

His eyes are numb, lips quivering. I was harsh today but it was an important conversation to have. I needed a closure.

A chapter to end, for me to start a new one soon. I need to change myself, to overcome the fear because like Pa said, your loved ones, Noor deserve a better version of me, the best.

"I'll apologise to her." He says, I get up from my seat. He does too.

We share a hug after so long that I realise I have missed this warmth. A warmth that only a parent can provide. The protective embrace that only he can provide.

I might start a new chapter, but I have given the previous one a good ending. My Pa and I do have many things to work on, but this is the start. This is where we might go back to sharing the love, care and affection we shared earlier and outside of work.

"Well, I do have my answer." He whispers. Tightening his hold around me. I feel his sobs, quiet and hidden and so I let my eyes close, capturing this moment. My lashes are moist too, tears of rekindling, of moving forward.

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"It's ten in the morning. And a Sunday!" Jay cries, rubbing his eyes violently. Yawning out loud, moving around lethargically.

"So?" I close the door behind him. I needed advice so as soon as I left my Pa's house, I drove to Jay's house.

Waking Jay up is considered a crime in his household, so now that he is awake, he is throwing himself a pity party.

"Why are you murdering my sleep?" He slumps on the sofa, puffing his cheeks. Looking at him I realise that I do spend most of my time around two of the most childish people.

"I need help."

"I understood that. Sometimes I feel you only use me as a helpline number. Dialling when in stress."

I give him a pointed stare, even if recently, I have been barging in mostly for his help, we share a bond much purer than that. We have shared parties together and even spent evenings cribbing over something.

"Jay."

"Okay. Your Jin is awake. Tell him what is your wish?"

"How do I tell her that I love her?"

"Tell who?" He teases. He is more awakened than he was before, his eyes flutter provokingly.

"Noor."

"Your wife?"

"Yes, Jay. How do I tell my wife that I am in love with her."

"Use your words, babe, they work."

"Jay!"

"Why are you being so skeptical about it? Just trust your inner feelings and confess. It will be easy once you are feeling what you are expressing."

He walks over to me, keeping a hand on my shoulder.

"Kabir, you really love her, don't you? Just trust your heart."

"I am. I want to. It's just that every time I want to take that step, I stumble. The previous night, we shared something so intimate, so memorable and I couldn't get myself to express it. Jay, I couldn't even kiss her. I was so fearful."

"Is it really the fear of love or the fear that she won't feel the same? The fact that you allowed yourself to be vulnerable after so long, only to not have it from the other side?"

"Maybe? But mostly it's the fact that the thought of accepting it out loud that I have truly given someone a major part of my heart scares me. If she doesn't feel the same, I would never fault her for that. She has the right to not like me, even if I wish she would. What if this mirage breaks? What if I do end up like him?"

"Then, it ends that way. You and I have not seen the future, we will never know what's there in store for us. But what we have to do is to live in the present."

"So, Kabir, don't run away. Be here. Feel what you do. It's okay. Let go of that rope, for once, and allow yourself to fall. It's going to be worth it."

And that's exactly what I will do. I'll allow myself to fall, let the brash be hard and hurtful, I am not backing away this time.

It's time for me to take a leap, one that takes me to the better side. Because she deserves my best version, and only I can give her that.

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writing a man in love is the most peaceful and yet the most challenging part.

tell me what are your views? and how are you liking the book so far.

thank you for reading.

royally yours,
meethi.