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Word count - 2700

Song - Yun Hi Re  | David |

https://youtu.be/FWTUjESfkOQ

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29 | Under The Rainy Night Sky

Her dainty fingers trailed across the window, tracing the water beads that glided down the glass pane, while her sable eyes were latched to the surroundings outside the operational automobile. Trees on both sides of the road swayed vigorously due to the torrential winds.

But as cataclysmic as the weather outside appeared to others; for her, it was soothing.

Mahadevan shifted his attention from the windshield to behold their intertwined hands on his lap, eventually raising his gaze up to look at her. "We are about to reach the Yamuna Bridge, so it will take us around ninety minutes more to reach home. There are some snacks in the side cabinet; have them."

"I am not hungry." She instantly replied. Her voice lacked the naturally firm edge he was used to. Instead, it was soft—too soft. "Is Ani alone at home? Or is he with Geeta Didi?"

His keen eyes surveyed the side profile of her visage for a moment, eventually shifting their focus back to the windshield in front. "No, Geeta had to leave early because her son is returning home at dawn tomorrow. But Vijay Bhai is at home. Both he and Anirudh are sleeping currently." He responded.

Softly nodding her head without any further queries, she averted her gaze from the dark and rainy setting outside to take a look at his left hand, firmly grasping her right one. It was not damp anymore, nor was it cold.

"Also—" She mumbled, "Can you please stop the car at the Yamuna bridge?"

"Why?" Uncertainty engulfed his face in a fraction of a second. "That too at this time? It's raining cats and dogs outside."

"Please." No reasons were explained. No justifications were given. It was just a simple, one-worded request—a soft tango of silence and desperation, carefully wrapped in a coat of calm whispers.

"Alright." Came his equally soft response.

And she finally smiled, no matter how faint it was.

"Do you want me to switch on the radio? It will keep you occupied." He asked in return.

"Yes."

Gently untangling her right hand from his left one, he raised it in the direction of the stereo system attached to the digital screen on the left side of the steering wheel, swiftly dancing his digits across the screen, and within a matter of a few seconds, the fervent notes of the song 'Yun Hi Re' echoed within the interiors of car as its profound tunes began playing on the FM.

And the moment the task of switching on the radio was done, Mahadevan's left hand naturally recoiled back to its initial locus, eventually cocooning her left hand in a steady grip on his left thigh again.

He veiled the relief on his visage under the guise of an intentional cough, while she hid the twinkle in her eyes with a swift turn of her head to look outside the window. For some time, he let go of the fact that she had been almost missing since morning, with no contact at all.

The Anirudh Ravichandar and Shweta Mohan classic continued to play in the background as Mahadevan navigated the car through the main road. Exactly thirty minutes later, the sleek black Rolls-Royce Phantom ceased its motion right in the middle of the cantilever spar cable-stayed Yamuna Bridge, following which its owner parked it on the left side of the road.

"Unlock the doors." She said.

And so he did. "There are umbrellas on the backseat; take one."

She turned her head around to look at him and smiled, "No. Just let me be." Saying so, she opened the shotgun side door. His eyes followed the cotton dupatta dangling down her shoulders as it slowly trailed out of the car. Needless to say, he followed suit.

The vast expanse of the sky above, which had taken up the darkest shade of black with hints of Indigo in between, thundered, while heavy downpours kept pelting down on the bridge they were standing on. Water penetrated through their clothes, causing wet patches to form on the fabric. Chilly winds flowed in the dark yet soothing atmosphere as Hinduja slowly made her way towards the steel railings of the gigantic bridge. Mahadevan looked on as she clasped her drenched fingers around the cold metallic bannister and tilted her head downward to peer at the violently overflowing river below the bridge--- a mystifyingly ironic combination of calamity and liberation. Dampened wisps of her hair were sticking to her face while the rest of it flowed down the curve of her back. Gradually, she lifted her head up and turned it around to look at him. Raising her hand, she beckoned for him to come closer while still sporting that faint smile she had on her face previously. "Come."

He quickly made his way towards her. "What happened?" He asked while wiping off the rainwater from his face.

"Do you like rain?" She asked as the tiny water droplets around her eyelashes fluttered and delicately toppled against her wet phizog because of blinking.

"Yes." He answered as he stood beside her.

To understand the woman before him completely, he knew it would take him time—a lot of time. She wasn't complicated. Rather, she was too intricate. Like, here they were, late at night, standing on a lonely-looking bridge an hour away from their home, that too under a heavy downpour, when all he wanted was to get her to the safety of their home the moment he traced her location.

Why were they here? He had no idea.

What were they even doing here? He, again, had no idea.

But here he was, without any questions or doubts in his mind, standing beside her, listening to her erstwhile firm but currently soft voice while gazing at the luminosity on her face, the glimmer in her eyes, and the beauty in her smile.

"What about you? Do you like rain?" He asked her after a moment of silence.

In response, she tilted her head up with her eyes closed and breathed in deeply, feeling the drops of elixir caressing her phizog intimately. "I used to love rain. But not anymore."

His forehead creased as he surveyed her face with his slightly narrowed gaze. "Strange. You say that you don't like rain anymore? Yet, here you are, completely soaked from top to bottom, because of rain."

She ducked her head down and opened her eyelids to look at her feet, wiggled her toes, and looked up again, staring right through his soul, using those stygian swirls of hers. "Dogra Sahib?"

"Yes?" He urged her to speak.

"When the right time comes, I'll tell you a story. Okay?"

The creases on his forehead increased further. "May I have the audacity to ask, what is the story called?"

And there it was, in those stygian eyes—maybe the worst feeling of humankind—grief.

"The story of the three little birds." She, at last, whispered.

Seventy minutes later, the husband-wife duo crossed the threshold of the playroom located at the corner most section of their penthouse apartment. And, let's say, the sight inside was quite...'interesting'.

On the floor, under the dimmed brightness of the zero light, widely spread out was a fluffy Shin-Chan-themed mattress meant for babies, and on the mattress was a slumbering Vijaypath Rao with his legs spread apart and mouth wide open, snoring the shit out of the cute-looking playroom. Finally, on Vijaypath Rao's torso was the youngest addition to the Dogra Clan—Anirudh Dogra—with his mouth wide open, just like his uncle, while drool dribbled down from the corners of his mouth.

Mahadevan sighed, "Interesting."

Out of nowhere, both of them heard something weird—a loud rumbling noise—to be specific, a fart.

"What was that?" Mahadevan asked in confusion, his eyes searching for the source of the sudden noise.

"Ani farted." Hinduja answered while shaking her head.

"Exquisite." Mahadevan sighed again. "I hope the poor diaper is fine."

Later in the night, after bringing the temperature of the air conditioner in the play room to a moderate level, both of them walked into their own bedroom.

And the moment they stepped inside the vernacular-themed master bedroom, Mahadevan swiftly closed the door behind him and yanked the female figure beside him towards their bed by her upper arm.

"Now.." He breathed. "Where were you all along? And why was your phone switched off?" Holding her close to him by her waist, he seethed.

Hinduja passed on a faint smile in return: "You were able to trace my exact location despite the fact that I was in a moving vehicle, so, obviously, you must know where I was."

"You left home at nine in the morning today, along with me, and now—" He about-faced to take a look at the clock on the wall. "Now, it's one-thirty a.m. at night. No video calls, no phone calls, not even a single text message! And with the kind of profession you are in, obviously all of us were worried." He exhaled.

Her facial features softened even more. "I am sorry. All of this was unintentional. Rukmini and I, both of us, were out for some work related to the case. In the morning, when I left, I completely forgot to check my phone. But when I was in the episcopacy, while checking my phone, it dawned on me that my phone had only twenty-five percent charge left. We were forced to wait there for around six hours because the person we had an appointment with arrived pretty late. So, within that time period, the battery drained completely. On top of that, after meeting that person, when we were finally returning from the episcopacy, both the rear-side tires of Rukmini's SUV got punctured on the way. Somehow we found a garage around three hundred meters away from that place and got the car fixed."

Mahadevan shut his eyes close, hearing her words.

"I am sorry." She mumbled an apology.

Eventually, he nodded his head with a heavy sigh. "That's fine. But why was Rukmini's phone unreachable?" He inquired.

"You tapped her phone as well?" Immediately, her voice showed traces of annoyance mixed with disbelief.

"We had to. There was no other way."

Rubbing her entire face with her hands, she voiced out. "I guess it was due to the weather. Plus, we were traveling through a very deserted area, so it could be a network coverage issue."

"Alright."

Immediately after his reply, she tried to free herself out of his hold.

"We need to talk." He breathed out harshly, not letting her go.

With her brows squeezed together, she gazed at him with uncertainty taking over her face. "Didn't we just talk now?"

If possible, he yanked her closer to himself. "Not that. We need to talk about the main issue."

She almost instantly knew where the topic was moving forward to. "Can we please converse about this tomorrow? I am too ti–" He cut her off in the middle.

"No! Now, we need to talk right now!" He immediately declared. "I am sorry, okay? I am really sorry. I had no other way to keep them away from you and ensure your safety. Guru Surya and the other two minions were hell-bent on assassinating you. I couldn't just sit like a nincompoop and watch them carry out their plans, dammit!" He yelled out in anguish.

"Don't be loud!"

"I am sorry, okay? Please! Just talk to me, like before. Please." He requested miserably.

She gazed at his almost sheeny eyes and chuckled. "Aren't I talking to you now?"

"Yes, you are, but—but just don't stop talking to me tomorrow, okay?"

"I won't." She gently whispered.

Relief coursed through his veins as he bent his torso by a certain angle to support his forehead against hers.

"But don't you ever think that I'll support you in what you did to Guru Surya, Chittaranjan, and Kalki." Soft chortles escaped his lips as he heard her words. "Alright." He responded.

But, then, something crossed his mind like a flash of current. So, lifting his head up, he stared at her, "I need you to answer a question, wife. Will you?"

Tipping her chin, she gesticulated at him to continue.

"Had it been someone else instead of me, would you still choose to remain silent?" He whispered.

She gulped. "No"

In response to her reply, a barely perceptible titter broke out of his lips. Tenderly brushing his fingers against her right cheek, he asked, "Then, what is it that's stopping you from reporting me to the police?"

She shivered.

He slowly traced his digits from the supple curve of her cheek to the sharp outline of her jaw, eventually stopping at the arch of her neck. Moving his fingers around at a leisurely pace, he massaged the carotid pulse point on her neck. "Your pulse rate is high. Do you know what that means?" He murmured as his hand dropped down on her sternum, at a decent distance from her covered bosom. "It means your heart rate must be high too."

She immediately averted her gaze from his to stare down at the floor. He smiled, amused. "So, tell me, why haven't you reported me to the police till now? What's stopping you?"

"I don't know." She finally breathed out.

"Then find it out, wife; find the reason. It's hiding somewhere within you." He whispered into her ear, retracted his hand from her chest, tilted her chin up, and gazed directly into her ebony eyes.

Jerking herself out of his unyielding grasp, she quickly rushed towards the bathroom. His body convulsed in hysteria as his laughter reverberated in the master bedroom.

***

On the cusp of dawn the next day, she quietly sat next to his sleeping form, peeking at his herculean right arm wound around her waist at times. She just couldn't put herself to sleep the previous night.

Slowly tilting her body towards the left side, she carefully picked up the journal kept on the wooden bedside cabinet stationed beside the bed. Coursing her slender fingers through its pages, she picked up the pen retained inside it and finally seized the movement of her digits at a blank and fresh folio of her journal.

Shifting her gaze from her journal, she peeked at him for one more time as the pen held in her nimble fingers started its sophisticated motion across the page below its tip.

As I sit here in the hushed hours of the fading night,

My heart swells with things I know more have the will to fight,

I gaze upon him with a newfound finesse,

Somehow, in his embrace, I find my sacred place.

I wonder if he identifies the light in my eyes,

Only if he knew, it's a reflection,

Of him and our child.

Our bond deepens with each passing hour,

As I discover the tenderness of his soul,

The strength in his silence and his resilience,

A gentle tango of power,

The things I feel for him slowly begin to take their toll.

He asks me what's the 'reason'?

Oh, how do I tell him,

It's my own perfidious heart committing a treason,

With every glance, I see him anew,

His laughter like a consonance so sweet,

His touch like beads of dew, drizzly yet serene truth,

In his arms, my restless heart finds its beat.

He thinks, I won't notice his hands,

Damp and icy-cold.

Oh, how I just want him to know,

I pledge to be the warmth,

Cocooning his melting snow.

Dear God, how I marvel at our wondrous sight,

A woman, gradually falling for her husband's light.

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