I Want Some Real Human Interaction
"Hey, Meena, hold on to this. I'll be back."
Raghav declared, flinging his leg to the front getting off his two-wheeler. Meena raised her brow at his impetuous action as she hastily shoved her mobile in her handbag, and tipped forward to clasp the handle bar.
Thank heavens; she had not draped a saree in devotion to her colleague's wedding. It was only a salwar.
Stamping both her feet firm against the plane of the road, she maneuvered to get a grip on the motor cycle, her sable eyes holding on to Raghav's visage that was jogging away to the other side of the road, nonchalantly.
She was clueless on what he was doing.
Loping along the side of the road for a stone's throw, Raghav stopped at a small Aavin store that sold most of its milk artefacts.
This is it, she thought with a self-discerning smile.
After exploiting all the melange of food in the wedding buffet, Khushi had dropped him off at the mechanic's shop to fetch his motor cycle, along with Meena. Following that she had to take leave, stating to meet her parents.
On that account, Meena trailed Raghav with her from the mechanic shop, to her home.
Raghav trotted back to the two-wheeler, with a carry bag of milk khoa; the favourite dessert of his most favourite person, at Meena's home.
"Stop being so impulsive, Raghav. It is becoming difficult for me to hack it with your spontaneity and at times, it scares me." Meena complained scrunching her face in sheer vexation.
Why can't he just get down patiently and go slowly?
Why can't he just inform her before doing anything senseless in the middle of the road?
Because, He is Raghav, he does senseless things and you know it, don't you, Meena? She thought.
Tossing his leg over the handle bar and seated, Raghav replied, "Instead, why don't you just be attentive?" keeping an eye on her, on the rear view mirror, throttling the gear.
Meena stared at the mirror, back, astonishingly, "Is there any moment when you haven't spoken back at me?" she fretted. Surging her hand to signify the carry bag, she pumped, "And what is this?" on her next query.
"You know what it is," Raghav said with a semblance of a sheepish smile.
Of course, she knew what it was.
It was Mudra's favourite dessert from Aavin.
And she was Raghav's favourite.
Ever since Raghav smoked out about it, he'd been managing to bring her, her fave-wait khoa in tiny tokens, every time he visited her.
"I asked what is this, as in, why did you buy this?" Meena retorted, still glaring at him on the mirror, stringently. "Mudra falls sick a lot, very lately, Raghav. I don't want her gobble up sweets, and catch cold, once again."
"Meena, if you want your token of khoa you know, you can ask me. Don't take advantage of Mudra's quota," he had said shrilly, jousting with the briny, torrid wind, as they coasted along the beach road.
Meena sighed, "I am being serious, da. Doctor has advised me not to feed her a lot of sweets," with all sincerity. Nothing would wear down a mother than a sick baby.
"Come on, childhood is incomplete without coming across this phrase from the doctors. And a tad amount wouldn't do harm." She knew it. She always did –this guy wouldn't effort to mind being straitlaced.
She should've minded up of getting her mouth fastened when she initiated the little feud in the first place.
Despite scads of exemplary bawling and bickering, Meena had never been able to grapple with the sparkplug in Raghav –for it was not just any insignificant chunk of him.
Raghav halted the motor cycle in the parking; whilst, Meena made a mental note on how much of the khoa she could supposedly beaqueath Mudra, for herself.
"Did my baby stay good at aunty's?" cradling Mudra up in her arms, Meena probed as she ambled to the elevator. She'd left her daughter with a friend who lived downstairs, in the morning, before leaving to the wedding.
What tantalized Mudra at the twinkle was the pink plastic button on her mom's kurti. Lumping all of her attention at the moment in fiddling with it, she hummed. "Umm."
Running a hand over the curly mass of her daughter's hair, Meena wilted down to press a kiss on her cheek before granting Mudra on her feet, exiting the elevator.
Dodging and letting Mudra scuttle towards the door, Meena followed to pipe at her daughter's expressions on seeing her beloved Raghav mama home.
A little frivolous gasp escaped Mudra's pouty lips as she discerned Raghav sitting on the chaise lounge, both of his arms outstretched at the bitsy pint of human wonder, who had her bright eyes sparkle in instant joy.
Meena entered home at the sight of Mudra cradled in Raghav's lap, both of their heads huddled together at the drawing she'd recently coloured. A grin broke on her face as she holdered the keys to its hanger from where Raghav had left it.
Flumping down at the couch next to Raghav, Meena gabbled,"So, when are you going to pack the rest of your stuff? I have spoken to Himani –I have brought her around to do this, Raghav. You better behave when you get there. If you have any ideas of your usual deeds, drop them –just drop them." she went on ramming in her lecture on Raghav's head about his new house owner –one of her friends, whom she'd talked into providing Raghav his shelter
She thought she would have to acquaint him with all that she'd to before he started to pull up any stunts at his new place –or if he had cropped up any plan of doing so.
Raghav sighed rolling his eyes, dramatically, "I promise you, Meenakshi Adhityan. I will not try to do anything of that sort." He confessed, almost earnest. Meena cracked up at his promise.
"Think of yourself, dude; do you feel like someone who makes people have faith in your promises," she scoffed making the final word prominent, grinning at him flamboyantly, in besetment.
Raghav's shoulders eased down, nettled at the urge to comply, "Fine, you don't have to believe my promises. Get me a bond paper; I'll sign it for you –I, Raghav Vardarajan, hereby state that I won't screw, shag or hump with my house owner...." as he went on, Meena pinched his arms, prodding him to stop prate everything in front of her kid.
Raghav flinched, and in a breathing spell, Mudra lunged up from the notebook. Her big black eyes shining in curiosity, she asked, "Amma, what is Skoo, Shaaaaaag and humph?" Letting out an embittered gasp at that, Meena grimaced at Raghav and dug her head in her palms. Mudra had cultivated the habit of mastering the meaning of any new word she came through, latterly, which dismayed her mother, here and now.
Meena did not know what to do; not even if she was grateful that Raghav had not used an actual cuss word or to contemplate a satisfactory answer to Mudra, at the moment.
"Mudra baby, that is just being disobedient and nothing else. Raghav mama says that he will obey and will be a good boy," feeling helpless, Meena made it.
The little girl twisted her head to stare at Raghav in a scrutinizing gaze, as if she was meditating on what her mother had just professed.
It was several seconds later, when she'd returned her focus to the book on her lap. "But Raghav mama is a goooboy already, Maa." Her eyes decidedly fixed on the book and her tiny fingers leafing through the pages, she pouted with a determined intent.
Raghav couldn't help the grin on his face, as he pressed a quick peck on Mudra's cheek at her backing.
"Making a cup of coffee would be a better option to go with right now, than just sitting here and telling me off," Raghav grunted at Meena, fabricating to be hurt.
Meena stared at him, implausibly, "You just made a pig out of yourself with all the food in the wedding, Raghav." She whispered, to make sure only he heard her ridicule. She was not in the plight to give explanations to her daughter for each and every word she spoke.
Raghav bumped his shoulders offhandedly, as she pushed her up to feet, to make coffee for him, despite what she meant verbally.
"I made a pig out of myself with only food, and not out of coffee. Plus, I did not sleep all night" he muttered stressing the last part much. It was Raghav's cryptograph for I am hung over still.
And Meena successfully decoded it. "Well, I did not ask you not to sleep." Throwing her hands wide, she hammered away, which faithfully meant, I did not ask you to dump your mouth with alcohol.
Raghav followed her to the kitchen. "So, tell me about this house owner." He'd asked seated comfortably on the counter top.
Meena shot out a nasty glare as she moved to the stove, picking up the milk packet from the fridge.
Addled at her glare, Raghav cowered away. "Hey, not that way; you know she must be pretty broad-minded girl to rent away a portion of the house to a man, when she is staying alone."
Meena's eyes softened. What Raghav delivered was truth –and it started kindling Meena in many uncomfortable ways. Trusting Raghav with this was something Meena had never held an opinion of –but now, for some reasons she'd to do it.
He was homeless.
She could take him in, providing shelter. But it'd not be last-standing, since her parents were about to visit her any day that week and her place was a two BHK apartment.
And she could, never in her wildest dreams, let him suffer that way.
She soughed out a prolonged stretch of breath she needed in the first place, to discipline her thought processes. She needed to break it down to Raghav about living with Himani –she needed to do it, right away.
Reaching out for Raghav's hand and giving it a gentle squeeze, she made her point perfectly clear. "Listen out Raghav, I am doing this in spite of knowing you, because your problems are mine, too. And I don't want to just watch as you suffer."
Raghav did not argue at this, instead just listened with keen consciousness, as Meena continued. "You have always been inclusive in the family I thought I had for myself. And you know what; Himani is in there, too. I will be the one to be guilty charged if you did mess up with her. I don't know if you'll be dratted, but for sure, I'll be. Despite knowing you, I am doing this, just for you, Rahul and Suhasini."
Raghav was startled at the tenderness in her eyes and digesting it, he said, "Meena, I will keep my word. You don't have to worry about it." Just for the earnest mien Raghav had adorned all over him; which he never did, Meena wanted to believe in his words.
"I know you're doing this for me –even after knowing me. Thank you, Meena." He had said his voice gentle and genuine.
"So tell me about the house?" Raghav probed wanting to call her away from the cautionary staidness she'd developed.
"It is an individual house. You'll have to share kitchen, living room and the balcony. Bedroom is your private space. Her mother is in their native place. She's here for her job."
"An individual house inside the city," he asked stumped at the piece of information he'd in his hands and ignoring the last part, completely.
"Yup," Meena replied, handing over the coffee mug to him.
"I never knew you had such a swanky friend." Meena punched his arm, faintly at his remark.
"It is a vintage house –it is Himani's grandfather's! Who'll be able to afford it in this decade, anyway!" rolling her eyes, she said it in matter-of-fact tone.
Raghav had managed to barrel all of his stuff together in the next few hours after the coffee he'd had at Meena's that afternoon. The trunk of his pants, shirts, tee shirts; a huge chest of all the books he'd buried himself in, wide-ranging from textbooks to fiction to playboy magazine sorts; and the vanity possessions like wireless trimmer did not command him a price of several hours.
All of them were jumbled, by the time mentioned.
Making them more disorderly did not require more patience than Raghav had.
A sense of slick relief coursed through his veins when he handed over the key to the house owner. Not having to bump at Harshita at the jiffy brightened him up more.
***
Himani was anticipating her newest tenant, that evening.
She would've not settled in renting up a portion of their ancestral home, in which she'd to dwell as well, to a man–a stranger, not technically, though.
She could summon up, Meena bringing up Raghav's name once over, off late at the mention of his name.
Still, this'd be the farthest decision she'd devise up even with an apocalypse destroying the universe –sharing her home with a man for rent.
What Himani would not accede signing up for, even in an apocalypse, she'd blend to do for the sake of friendship.
She had agreed to rent a chuck of her home to a stranger –for Meena.
It must be little over four-thirty in the evening when Himani was striding down the staircase at the entryway of the condo, her arms loaded with sun-dried clothes.
It was during weekends, she could split up time to do the laundry. Together with being a full-time chef, she'd to superintend online baking lessons over Skype, everyday –almost; refurbish a new recipe on her blog, twice to thrice a week banking on her other chores, and also sustain to hearken for orders to the freelancing she'd plunged in, with her colleague.
After a nine to five of standing in the swelter of burners, she'd not want to zonk her out more by doing chores than she could.
Descending the stairs and entering the living room made her wise of her phone's ringing.
Dumping the clothes roughly on the couch, she rushed inside tracking up the noise of the phone, a shaggy rail of thoughts troubling her about opening up to her mom, and of course about knowing the result.
What was waiting for her on the phone, was it a yes, or a no?
One of those two, without doubt –silly, she knew but that was the ultimate persuasion she could tell herself since yesterday evening. From the time she'd met the guy, her Uncle had chosen for her.
The guy's family was about to tell their choice in the next 24 hours –like a patient in emergency room, Himani's fate was about to be resolved.
And she absolutely loathed it.
As of her and her decision, the other end wasn't necessarily going to excite her, nevertheless their decision.
"Hello, Maa," panting deep and rugged, she'd managed to pick up the call before it went unanswered.
"Himani, my baby, is everything good?" With that everyday tone from her mother, she couldn't decipher if it was all right.
Tracing her steps back to the living room, she responded, sluggishly. "Yeah Maa."
"Pranav's father had called Uncle, a few minutes back." Himani's heart pulsated in her chest. She felt unease building up around her in the heart that kept speeding in each passing second not at what she about to hear but for what she about to tell.
"So what did he tell? She bit her lip accusing her own inquiring mind.
"Pranav needs time, it seems"
"Time for?" she could sense her brows scrunching in dubiety.
"For getting to know you..." there was a hint of reluctance in her mom's voice when she'd disclosed it. However, there wasn't any, when she resumed. "He wants to go out with you one more time."
Himani's tightened shoulders slackened down like a crumbling wall and she flumped her wearied frame in the plush of the couch. "And what did you say?" she asked, incredulously.
"When have I ever done anything without asking for your mind, Ammu?
A winning smile smeared across her lips, listening out to her mom.
"So, what do you say? Would you like to go out with him once more?" asked her mom, delicately; and added, "See, it is totally your call –you can decide what you want. Whether affirmative or not, I'll only interpret your decision; not try to change it," hastily.
Himani had clarity in what she wanted. Her mother knew she would never be able to prevail her upon something she'd never wanted.
It was either a yes or a no, no in between, no dilemmas.
"Maa, to be honest, I feel like I am not psyched up for a wedding –yet." She admitted the truth she felt by heart after meeting the guy, last evening.
Despite being doubtless from what she needed, Himani had no clue about getting married. When her mother and uncle asked her about seeking a match for her, she was given away at the thought for the sake of them.
But once, she met the tentative match and had to appraise and mull over getting married practically, she couldn't.
In the half an hour, she'd traded getting to know the guy, the previous day; she couldn't break down into deep consideration of getting married to him.
To be precise, she couldn't even dip her head into the thoughts of sharing her life with someone, right at the moment.
And that was the moment of epiphany for her.
She'd decided; and opened it up now, when they called for it.
"Are you sure?" Himani's mother had to think twice before asking this aloud because her daughter never reeled off, something she wasn't sure of.
"Yes, Maa; I had a thought about it until yesterday. But once the actual realization set in, I decided not to give in right now. Give me some time, please." She knew this'd upset her mom –although, a bit.
"Fine, baby; I will tell mama about it." What boggled Himani was the neutral tone –it was still there.
"You're not upset about my decision?" she asked flakily.
"I don't want my daughter restrained and slammed in an unhappy marriage, Kannaa. Everything has a right time to happen. And so, it will." This was after seeing a several matrimonies end up miserably inside their family.
At the time they'd hung up, Himani heeded up to the sound of wheels hauling up at her gate.
She rose up on her feet, flocking the discarded pile of clothes in her arm swiftly, she maneuvered them to her portion of the house as the realization that her new tenant had just showed up, stem up.
She was back at the living room by the time Meena made a traipse down the hallway, and stringing along was a man.
Beaming welcomingly at Meena, Himani quickly scanned him, at once.
He was sporting a gray collared tee and a track pants. With his beard and hair unkempt, he was still a looker. His body wasn't an arduously built one. But he was not thick either.
To Himani, he just appeared like some goodness wrapped tight in a fit body.
Peeling herself back from the hug, Himani had engulfed her in, Meena waved at Raghav, who was standing at the sight of two women so happy about hugging each other. "This is Raghav, your new tenant."
"Raghav, Himani." She said solemnly, her gaze leaving severe cautionary warning, private for Raghav.
Signing approval with a nod at Meena, Raghav stuck his palm out at her, with an impulsive smile. "Hi." And that was smooth –like a good boy, which Meena never knew Raghav had in him.
And Himani reciprocated. "Hello."
"Raghav, give her your number. If it calls for some emergency, she will need it." Meena interjected, slightly wondered at the good boy demeanour he'd brought off. He never did that. When he did, boy, it was finesse.
Like a child who's willing to act upon his mother's words, he dictated the digits, obeying Meena. Pulling out his mobile from his pocket, he saved her number as House Owner –house owner Himani, he thought to himself and found it funny, disgustingly.
He was like that, funny in a silly way.
With that done Himani scanned around, and trailing him swaying a bit to her flanks, causing Raghav to look over his shoulders without any clue. "Have your belongings here?" Himani probed in curiosity, as he stood there with just single backpack on.
"I have them in the car." Pointing out at Meena's car, he replied.
Himani ambled a couple steps forward to have a look at the car at her gate step. And she couldn't believe a guy had all of his essential belongings stuffed inside a car.
Meena left the place, once Raghav made sure he'd taken all of his stuff. She did not totally forget to warn him, one last time, before she started home.
And she did nothing but sending off prayers mentally, all the way back, for Raghav to behave.
And Raghav behaved –surprisingly, still.
Once he figured out to move in all of his baggage inside his territory, he crashed at the floor bed, the house owner had offered, with all due respects.
Himani was in the living room keeled in her laptop, typing away the recipe she'd the due to post. Half way into getting her blog post ready, she felt her stomach grumble vehemently.
She glanced up at the wall clock –it was seven and she was famished, already.
With an enhancement to the evening, she had to take in what she'd signed up for, actually.
When Meena spoke up for Raghav, she'd also asked Himani to provide him meal every day for which he'd be paying for, as well.
If Himani was asked to single out one thing to do for the rest of her life, she'd choose cooking.
Cooking for Raghav would only ask for the raise in the quantity she prepped. And it was not going to put her in crisis, anyway. Thus, their rental clauses had become inclusive of providing meal, too.
Raghav stepped out of his room, when Himani was about to enter the kitchen. The air felt thick with the silece.
Himani loved to be in peace, not in silence.
So she filled in. "So have you unpacked and arranged everything?" she asked, looking at the half-opened door. The gap was more than enough to establish the mess it had inside.
"oh yeah." He hummed looking down at something on his phone, sincerely.
Himani's brows tied together indecisively, as she marched fast and haste to the door. Pushing it wide open, what she had to witness upon would come under room abuse.
All of his clothes were in heaps inside the wardrobe with its doors wide open, nearby remained three cardboard boxes left unpacked. Himani felt her head reeling at the sight of it. She wasn't a clean freak. But she always kept track on maintaining orderliness in her stuff.
The room looked like a buffalo had had its childbirth in there.
Sensing her inspecting the room, Raghav hurried to her.
She arched her brow at him, "If you call it an arrangement, what would you name this?" she asked, gesturing at her properly aligned, neat course of stuff at the living room.
Raghav shrugged at her, "Cool, I won't judge you for arranging in a peculiar way." Himani couldn't decipher if he was jeering at her because he had delivered it genuinely.
"I'd just say this is arrangement in your terms, and that one, in mine." He finished it off leaving Himani stare at him in disbelief.
Snapping out of the incredulity, Himani folded her arms and kept them thick with her body, factually. "I don't care how you keep your stuff. But the room should be neat. You must sweep it every day." She came up with it, because she decided this guy could not be trusted with her house's hygiene.
Raghav's shoulders collapsed, listening to her new rule. Harshita's father was far better.
"What say?" at that demand, he had to agree.
"Fine, I will do it." That was grumpy, but in affirmative.
When Himani was done with cooking, she did not wait for Raghav to appear. She was already starving from hours ago. After the little conversation turned baby dispute, she felt the hunger doing her off with its growling.
She ate her portion before she knocked on his door.
Raghav opened the door and the expressions on his face did not totally welcome her, as if she were there to buttercup him.
The dinner was ready and she was there at his doorstep to announce it. Himani braced herself to his brusque expressions. "Your food is on the table. You can eat, whenever you want." Announcing, she spun on her heel to walk away to her room.
"Where are you going?" rattled, he asked, leaving Himani brow-raised.
"To my room." She hushed quietly, without looking up at him.
"And your dinner?"
"I have eaten"
"Oh." Comfortably seated on the couch, Raghav spoke as Himani proceeded on her tracks. "Do you know what the worst thing in this world is?"
Halting where she was, she waited for his response, gaping at him. "Eating alone. It is the worst." He sounded quite wretched. But Himani wouldn't budge.
"There is a TV and you are licensed to use it." She said dismissing his naïve response.
"Dude, cut me some slack. I want some real human interaction –not some stupid box's company." He muttered rolling his eyes.
She couldn't buck the smile that'd scribbled across her mouth, at his comment.
She'd to settle down at the couch right now or her heart would do her off.
