The wind rushed to my face through the window, pushing some stray strands of hair in front of my eyes.

I witnessed the market, people passing by, stalls of clothes, the sizzle of the tea and fritters, the sweet scent of jalebi mingled with the voices of vendors.

I flicked the hair aside in irritation.

The clink of the chooda felt too loud in the quiet of the car.

I was able to feel his gaze on me.

The way he repeatedly adjusted the mirror in front of him-until my eyes were staring into it,

and I was able to feel his eyes through the mirror.

I exhaled shakily.

I was able to practically feel the heat on my face.

I couldn't help but remember his smile.

The way sunlight kissed his eyes, until they turned into softer shades of reverence and he would look away.

Like sunlight had every right too.

He cleared his throat.

My grip tightened on the edge of the saree pallu, until it was damp under my palm.

"We need a photo for our affidavit."

I nodded as I flicked a glance at him briefly.

He stopped the car at the side.

I couldn't help but steal a glance at him again.

Until he caught them,

And I froze at my place.

He blinked and a subtle smile graced his lips.

The wind blurred into thin lines.

I closed my eyes and opened it again,

Only to find him looking down at my feet,

I shifted slightly.

Only to notice his hand held out for me.

He was standing there patiently-

Like he had all the time in the world.

The sun had reached the horizon.

The air had turned cold-

Yet I was only able to feel the warmth.

Hesitantly I placed my hands in his.

"Chalein?"

🌷

Something about the air felt different today.

It carried the moisture, indicating the rain.

It felt like a relief after the warmth of the sun.

It felt right in every way as I looked at her feet.

Her warm hands touched mine.

I curled our fingers together until I was able to feel the goosebumps on her knuckles.

Yet I didn't leave her hand.

It was crowded,

and I couldn't afford to lose her in it.

Yet her eyes were fixed on the shops.

My eyes were fixed on our hands.

The way she shifted every-time until I was able to feel her scent along with the fresh scent of earth.

Baarish ki hawa ka sukoon.

That's what I felt with her.

🌷

I was able to feel his scent from the aftershave as I stood beside him.

The camera-man said something but I barely heard it.

Is it wrong to look at your husband like this?

Maybe it was wrong in every-possible way.

Yet.

I wasn't able to take my eyes off him.

Suddenly I heard his voice-soft, in my ears.

"Saamne dekhiye."

I blinked, not able to decipher anything.

Until the shutter clicked and I looked ahead.

I was able to feel the shudder in his breath.

The warm breath beside my ears.

"Ache toh nahi lagne lage hum."

He said as he paid the money to the cameraman,

and walked out.

Still my hand was clutched in his hand.

I looked down at it.

My pallu fluttered in the wind.

The soft drizzle greeted my face as I stepped out.

And somewhere at the back of the head.

A voice whispered.

"Kya pata?"

My thoughts got interrupted as I heard his voice.

"Kuch khana hai aapko?"

He paused and a smirk graced his lips.

"Ya humko dekh kar man bhar liya."

My eyes darted to him.

I closed my mouth then opened it again.

But no words came out.

So I shook my head,

looking anywhere but him.

The smell of cinnamon from a nearby stall felt comforting.

Actually everything about this evening felt oddly satisfying.

His grip on my hand tightened just lightly,

as I followed him.

At the next second we were standing at the same stall.

In the corner away from the crowd.

🌷

I handed her the bowl of gulaab jamun.

The way her eyes lingered on it a little longer.

I knew it.

She wasn't looking at me, yet I was able to feel every shift in her.

She accepted it.

But before she could eat.

Suddenly she forwarded the spoon to me.

I couldn't help but lean down a little,

as I took the bite from it and left the spoon.

I didn't like the way it melted in my mouth.

Too sweet for my taste buds.

But as I looked at her glowing face.

The sweetness felt just right.

She liked it.

"Pata hai humari favourite mithaai hai."

She spoke casually.

I couldn't help but nod.

She offered the spoon again.

This time I leaned forward just slightly.

Until I was able to feel her warmth on my face.

Yet I took the bite.

She stiffened.

Even my hands stopped for a second.

Until I stepped back, clearing my throat.

"Aur manga dein?"

But before I could say something more.

Her voice stopped me suddenly.

"Nahi, bahut meetha ho jaayega."

She threw the plates aside and gripped my hand.

I replied back as I followed.

"Bahut meetha toh hogaya."

Her hands tightened around my wrist.

It felt cold.

"Toh nahi khana chahiye tha na."

She entered the bookstore.

The polished smell of tiles and A.C greeted us.

I blinked as I looked at her.

"Aap hi toh ro rahi thi, aur chamach aage badha diya.

Mana kaise karte."

🌷

I stopped in my tracks.

I genuinely looked at him this time.

The grin was there on his face.

The way he casually flicked the pages of the book.

It didn't feel right.

"That's not rona, it's called basic decency."

He looked amused as he kept the book back on the shelf.

"Sharing the same spoon is a basic decency right?"

I practically hid my face in the book,

as I replied.

"Humari adat hai bas."

He looked softly at me through the shelves.

"Achi adat hai."

I couldn't help but smile.

I again got back to exploring the books.

His eyes examined the walls.

Lined by shelves.

The scent of paper lingered in the air.

"Yahaan kyun?"

I handed him the book.

It was a Hindi novel.

The one that I wanted from so many days.

I smiled as I kept another book in his hand.

A Romance novel.

"Shagun, aap ne pucha tha na?"

🌷

I felt contended as I looked at the books in my hand.

I always thought they were boring,

Until I met her.

The way her eyes glowed with the talk of it.

It all made sense.

It was all about what made her happy.

Finally she was choosing herself.

Most of them were Hindi books,

and feminist literature.

She felt more at peace-with the thought of books.

Maybe this was her peace.

The way to talk to herself.

Through these characters in the books.

I didn't know.

But I knew I was seeing the fascination in her eyes for the first time,

and that was everything.

I paid the bill.

She clutched the pack

et and grinned.

I followed her till the car,

and at the moment I realised.

I am going to follow her till my life.

To be continued.

Unedited.