Manasvi was back to her apartment – her small one-bedroom space in a pleasant, safe building in Andheri West – a place she called home. She had paid rent together for 11 months as post-dated cheques. So, she didn’t have to meet the landlord or clarify to neighbours where she was. She locked herself in her room and didn’t step out for the entire day, crying, feeling lost and lonely all over again. Feeling uprooted and directionless.

After tidying her room and the entire apartment, she washed every cloth, every bedsheet, changed the setting of the bed, the chair, her desk and everything she had, in a failing attempt to distract herself and make it feel new and different. Nothing helped. She felt as miserable as before.

In the coming week, Manasvi joined The Insight office and was placed with Krish to prepare for the conference on the effects of climate change. She didn’t want to go anywhere out of Mumbai or India for a while because she was hoping for a news from Anshuman. Krish understood and didn’t pester her for anything. He gave her the space she needed and since she was directly reporting to him, he ensured that she could work at her own pace.

Manasvi didn’t interact with many people other than Krish. Even with him, she spoke a few words or small phrases in the entire conversation. She stayed quiet, dealing with her own feelings, turbulence inside her, making her numb and speechless most of the time.
Manasvi was not prepared to move on so easily.

For a short while, she had felt her life had found a new meaning and an unexpected happiness with Anshuman in Afghanistan. She felt she was beginning to look at life with a new perspective, new vision.
She had always been alone, but before this she had compromised with her life and learnt to live alone. Almost, since forever. She had always stayed strong and expected nothing from life, before this. But after spending time with Anshuman, her heart began to weave hopes and dreams that she had never known before. She found herself feeling alive. Her emotions couldn’t stop tugging to him at every step. She had started hoping that someday, when all the clouds of despair fade away and fog of harsh circumstances settles down, they will be together, forever.

She never realised when her respect, admiration, awe for Anshuman gradually transformed into deep-seated love. And she never realised when this love grew so much that it started hurting her. She had believed that he loved her too. But he simply asked her to go away. To move on. And to make a life without him.

She had lost him. And with him, a big part of her own existence was lost too.

…………………………………….

Anshuman was shifted from police custody to Sindh jail.
Well aware that his future was locked and sealed for years from now, without any hope of revival, he stayed quiet and braced himself for what was to follow. Despite having a record of serving different lands as a doctor, one bad stroke of luck had landed him in an unfortunate position where he could neither practice his skills anymore nor be with his family, friends, or Manasvi. He missed his life, his freedom, his surgical practice, his patients…
And more than everything, he missed Manasvi.

Still, he was glad that she had accepted his request. Wishing for a bright future for her, he himself resigned his life to fate from here.
He had heard about several such instances where the release of a captive was deferred for an indefinite period due to lack of a diplomatic process. He didn’t know what lay ahead of him, from here.

……………………………….

Two months passed

There was no news from Liz or her husband from Afghanistan. They told Manasvi that there were hundreds of convicts and captives and once they were sent to jail, they were given numbers and not names. It was hard to find out anything unless they knew which jail Anshuman was in. Nor there was any development from the MEA in India. After multiple requests, they had agreed to send Anshuman’s name as an official request but there was no reply on that request. That was the last thing, RajSingh and Madhu told Manasvi.

Manasvi hoped that they had freed Anshuman. To live in uncertainty was the worst for any human being. It was like living on an edge while watching the life pass by you.

Manasvi had stopped interacting with people around her. Not that she ever interacted before. She was always quiet, and a loner, who remained busy with herself. But after coming back from Afghanistan, she had resigned herself to her own thoughts, her photography, her political blog, news segments, and work that Krish would assign to her.

She hardly ever smiled, did her work robotically, and left for home on time. She would cook, clean and do chores at home to stay busy. Later she would listen to news. And sleep, after praying to God that Anshuman was safe wherever he was.

And she prayed hard that he was in Scotland, and not in a jail in Pakistan. She would be happy thinking that Anshuman was living a peaceful life away from her. But not that Anshuman had lied to her to keep her away from his troubles, and to make her leave Afghanistan.

………………………………………

These two months, Anshuman spent in Sindh jail.

Compared to other inhabitants, he was treated well, because he was a doctor. The jailer in the Sindh jail was kind and he befriended Anshuman, hoping that he would help to treat the growing infections, difficult diseases spreading from one inmate to another, and to assess the need of specialised care.
Their own regular doctor had been unwell and so he had missed many previous appointments for over 2 months. Also, he came only once a week. Difficult cases, or severe infections were sent to the district hospital.

Having Anshuman with them was like having a full-time in-house doctor for the jail. And the jailer wanted to use this opportunity for the people residing in jails.

Anshuman was relieved. He had been missing his life. And to treat patients was his purpose of life. What he was doing in PBB, he would now do in a Pakistan jail. Patients were patients for him. They had always been, wherever he lived.

The best part was that he got a stethoscope, hammer, tuning fork, tongue-depressor, thermometer, sphygmomanometer, paper pads and pens. What else did he want to be content.

He spent his days and some of his nights examining hundreds of jail-inmates, one by one. He dressed their wounds, prescribed antibiotics, talked to them about hygiene and maintenance of a healthy regime, he taught them about fitness, and asked separate stay for people infected with communicable diseases. He asked for more diagnostic aids and he got them. The jailer facilitated all that he needed.
In one month, he set up a small laboratory for collection of blood samples, an isolation unit, and a small emergency set-up for minor procedures.

The inmates respected him. And the jailer couldn’t stop raving about him.

One afternoon, Anshuman was sitting in the mess, eating dal and rice, when the jailer approached him and sat before him.
“Doctor, we have arranged for all the disposable dispensable items that you had asked us.”
Anshuman nodded, “That’s great. Lack of gloves and disposable syringes halts a lot of procedures.”
The jailer smiled gratefully and said, “Your presence here has done wonders for us. We had been struggling with growing infections here. You altered the entire scenario for good. It’s not like we don’t have a doctor here. But you know, how it is, doctors are always in shortage.”
“It’s the same situation in all developing countries.”
“Glad you came here. Though it was not good for you. But helped us.”
Anshuman shrugged, “I guess, it was destined this way.”

The jailer tapped his fingers on the table for a moment, looking at Anshuman’s plate, and said hesitatingly, “I’m sorry for all that you have had to suffer. The living conditions here…”

Anshuman interrupted him, and chuckled, “Don’t feel bad. I’ve no complaints with the living conditions. I’ve served in disputed, war zones in Iraq, Syria, Israel, Myanmar, and Russia. I’ve gone for days without food, surviving terror attacks, and no facilities. Compared to that, this place is safe and at least, there is food for three times a day.”

The jailer smiled, “I’ll always remember this…and I’ll try to learn optimism from you.”

Anshuman said, “I was treating patients there… and I’m doing the same here. So, to be honest, I’m fine, as long as I’m doing my job. My needs are not big. I can survive on meagre facilities. The only thing I miss is…” His voice trailed off.

“Your family… your wife…” The jailer finished it for him.

Anshuman nodded to confirm, looking away.

The jailer said, “Junaid Bhai has told me everything about you. You have no idea but he is trying his best to get you freed. Last week, he was in Islamabad to advocate your case as a special case.”

“That’s really nice of him. He is a kind fellow,” Anshuman smiled.

“Yes, he is. I hope something happens fast, and you are released soon. We can’t carry this sin with us, despite knowing that you were innocent.”

Anshuman thanked him for his kindness and stopped thinking about it. He didn’t want the expectations to build up. Only to be quashed. Fragments of broken expectations cut deep like glass pieces and hurt for long. Anshuman had stopped expecting anything. He had a purpose in life and it kept him going wherever he was.

………………………………

Another month passed

Manasvi was sorting the pictures she had taken to cover a series of dilapidated, seriously dangerous old buildings of Mumbai and how they were a threat to human life. She was writing the details with each picture when she received a call from Krish.

“Manasvi, I’m not coming to office today. Mom is wheezing severely since last night. I’m in the hospital. They are admitting her.”
“Oh!” Manasvi was worried. Of late, more time spent with Krish had resulted her in hearing his stories about his affectionate mother and everything she did. Sometimes, his mom would send food for Manasvi, and sometimes sweets. Manasvi felt low, the way she had felt when she was losing her own mother, years ago. “Do you need someone there? Shall I come?”

“No, don’t worry. I’m here. Just take care of office, and work.”

“Don’t worry.” Manasvi relieved him.

She focused on work for a long time, but couldn’t stop herself from worrying about Krish and his mother. Krish had helped her so much during the Afghanistan trip and even after that. He was a friend, she had never asked from God, but knew that she couldn’t have managed without him.

In the evening, after work was finished, she went to the hospital to meet Krish and his mom, and pay her wishes.

She gave a bouquet of flowers to Krish’s mom and wished her a speedy recovery. Krish’s mom was elated to see her. “I knew, you must be this sweet and warm. Krish talks so much about you that I felt like I know you.”

Manasvi simply smiled at the compliment, and left after spending some time with them.

She didn’t feel like socializing, or meeting people more than for a few minutes. She missed Madhu and Preksha. Both of them however called her every few days and even she called them but they didn’t talk much. Manasvi couldn’t say how devastated she was. And she could never keep the guilt away that Anshuman was away from them because of her.

Even though she had promised Anshuman, she could never get the divorce papers readied or given to his family. She just couldn’t.

…………………………………….

Anshuman was dressing someone’s wound when a guard told him that he was summoned in the jailer’s chamber.

In the jailer’s chamber, Anshuman was surprised to see Junaid Khan, who hugged him to greet him. He had with him a group of 5 people.

Junaid talked to the group and said, “This is Dr. Anshuman Shekhawat, that I was talking about.”
One of them shook hands with Anshuman and said, “We are sent to meet you. We have heard a lot about you.”

Anshuman was told later that Junaid had left no stone unturned to tell people about him and requested to treat him as a special case, for the exceptional work he was doing in the jail. Two of the group were doctors, who asked him where he did his graduation and post-graduation from. They knew a few common professors from Scotland too. The entire group, of which others were from the ministry, examined the work he was doing in the jail, the hygienic conditions, the medicine dispersing unit, isolation ward, emergency, and lab… The jailer had prepared a detailed report on how Anshuman had been kind and helped other inmates recover from their ailments.

Anshuman was deeply grateful to Junaid and the jailer. Speechless, and overwhelmed, he silently took the group to the work he was doing. The inmates were also happy with him, and they spoke about how it was a privilege to have Anshuman around.

When the group left, Anshuman couldn’t find words to thank Junaid Khan, who was doing this out of his capacity of work. It was not his job. His job had ended the day he submitted the enquiry report and sent Anshuman to jail. After that, he could have detached himself. But Junaid couldn’t do it.

Anshuman just hugged him, with a pat on his back, expressing deep gratitude.

Junaid said, “I’ve always had faith in justice. But sometimes justice delayed is justice denied. I’ll see to it that it isn’t delayed much for you. I’ll do anything to see that you are freed.”

“I have no words to thank you.” Anshuman said.

“Then, don’t say that. Because I have no words to apologize. I just hope that we didn’t do much loss to you.”

“I have no complaints from anyone.”

“That’s kind of you. Will you be able to give me a few days more? I’ll return with a good news.”

Anshuman sighed, “I have patience of the size of a mountain. I can wait for years, if I see a ray of hope.”

Junaid smiled, “Not years, brother, it will be a few days only. I promise.”

“Thanks.”

“Meanwhile, do you want me to contact your wife or your family? I can give them a message or something, if you want me to.”

Anshuman nodded to refuse, “No. They’ll panic on hearing from you. Manasvi must have accepted that I am in Scotland in a research field. She might be hating me for dumping her like that. But slowly, she will accept and move on. I don’t want to tell her that I am still in jail. And as for my parents, and family, they must have been tired asking for my release, again, slowly accepting fate. I don’t want to rattle them all over again. I’ll call everyone if, and when, I am freed.”

“I’m sorry.” Junaid seriously felt bad for Anshuman.

“It’s alright. Life is an amazing teacher. And I have learnt that life goes on, people move on, and find a way like a flowing stream. Whether with or without you. They will find a way too.”

………………………………………..

 

Apologies for posting this update late. I wasn’t getting time to write. I had posted a note regarding it. In case, you missed it, I’m writing it here. I had a few commitments to fulfill, so I decided not to write it in a hurry.
Today I had some time, so the first thing, I did was write this update.
Won’t drag sad parts more.
I promise, this story will make up for all the tears we shed for Manasvi and Anshuman.

I’ve been asked if I will finish the story here. Yes, I will finish all stories that I begin in this blog.
Twisted Minds was the only one I stopped writing at Wattpad and removed it. Then, I didn’t finish it here and directly wrote the book. It was a different case. I never started it here. So, if you are reading a book here, rest assured, it won’t be left halfway. I can never do that.

But yes, I will keep removing parts and eventually the entire story after it is completed. I’ve suffered enough to trust online space anymore.
This is how we develop trust issues and get robbed off of our innocence and simplicity. But can’t help it.
Given a choice, I would have let all my stories free at Wattpad, forever. But then, some of the readers spoiled the fun for all of us. I still miss Wattpad.

Anyway, since we have moved on… let’s enjoy what we have in hand 😊

Thanks for all the love and support.

Love you all 🤗💖

………………………..

Junaid was still speechless. He knew that Anshuman was destroying his prospects to be freed by telling his wife that he was going to Scotland. His decision was insane and inexplicable. Why would someone do that? It was self-destructive.

“What if everyone believes her that you are being freed? They will stop trying for your acquittal. It is dangerous.”

Anshuman shrugged, “Honestly, I don’t have much hope left for myself. It is a war of diplomacy and negotiation between the two countries. And my experience says that the tussle will go on for long, with not any hope of my release. But for that I can’t let Manasvi stay in Afghanistan all alone, for God knows how long.”

Junaid heaved a deep sigh, and said, “I wish I could understand that. On the one hand, your wife is in a really dangerous situation and she is all alone. On the other, you are trapped yourself. Can’t say who needs to be safer first.”

“Her. Any day.”

Anshuman smiled and confused Junaid all the more.

………………………………………….

Manasvi was broken. She cried for the entire night.
Lonely, and distressed, she didn’t know how to take this development. She had been striving to get him acquitted. And she had been worried for him, until today. That pain was gone, only to be replaced by another.

She was immensely happy that Anshuman would finally be released and will live a free life. A life that he had been hoping. A life free of all the struggles, dangers to life, and hardships. A life well deserved.

It was high time, he got what was his due. She would always pray for him to be happy and content in his life.

But it was painful to realise that she was not a part of that life. That she was not the reason of his happiness and contentment. That he was happy without her and didn’t want her to accompany him in his journey. Instead, he wanted to be away from everything that reminded him of his past.

She had promised him that she will do this for him. For the first time, he had asked her for something. She could never let him down.

Early in the morning, Manasvi informed Krish and RajSingh Shekhawat that she was arriving in Delhi by the Air India flight from Kabul to New Delhi, taking off at 1:00 pm. She packed her bags and called Liz and Asfiya to inform them that she was going to India.

Liz and Asfiya came to the hotel to meet her for the last time and wished her the best for her future. They were both leaving for France, sometime in the following week. Manasvi didn’t know if she would have been able to manage in Kabul without them. She thanked them amply, invited them to India, exchanged phone numbers and finally said goodbye to them.

They dropped her to the airport. While on the way to the airport, thousands of thoughts crept in Manasvi’s mind, almost in tandem, rattling her mind for the variety of possibilities.

Can someone like Dr. Anshuman Shekhawat be so disturbed by his circumstances that he decided to leave everything and go to Scotland? Would he do that without meeting his family in Delhi? The family he loved beyond anything, the family who was trying hard to get him freed, his parents, Preksha, Dadi… will he leave them like that?
Okay, he didn’t want to take me with him…but at least, he could have met me once. I am going to India too.
Will Anshuman do that? Can he do that?
Leave PBB for a better future?
Leave clinical practice for research work?
In Scotland?

Her heart couldn’t get itself to believe it. Already the pain of abandonment and loneliness had engulfed her. She had never been with Anshuman, but there was always a hope, at least. He had broken that thread of hope between them. He had taken away the comfort and warmth of her dreams and wishes to be with him, some day. Her heart was overwhelmed with emotions.

And now, this new doubt had started troubling her. Is he really going to be free?

Before entering the airport, at the departure gates, Manasvi asked Liz, “Liz, can you ask your husband if we can inquire where they have kept Anshuman and whether they are leaving him?”

“Give me a moment.” Liz was moved when she saw Manasvi so distraught. Her eyes were teary, reddened and swollen, for she hadn’t slept for the entire night. She looked lost and broken. Pale and weak, as if she would fall down any moment.

Liz called her husband and talked to him. She had already spoken to him about Manasvi and Anshuman and he had assured her that he would try to help them through his contacts in Ministry of External Affairs in Pakistan. After talking to him, Liz informed Manasvi, “He will try to get the information. Stay in touch after you reach India. We will let you know if we can do something.”

Manasvi hugged her and Asfiya, and thanked them both. “Hope we meet some day.”

“Take care of yourself.” Liz patted her back.
“We’ll miss you!” Asfiya hugged her back.

“I’ll miss everything about this trip. I gained and lost so much here, on this soil.”

She didn’t want to go. But she had promised Anshuman that she will go back. She had promised him that she will move on. Right now, she had no clue about him. But the least she could do was keep her promise to him.

“I’m doing this just for you, Anshuman. Just because I promised you.” Manasvi murmured to herself and made a move towards the departure gate and security check-in at the Kabul airport, feeling detached from her roots all over again.

………………………………

When Manasvi reached India and walked out of the exit gates, after the Immigration check and other security checks, at around 5:00 pm, she was received by Anshuman’s entire family, RajSingh Shekhawat, Madhu, Preksha, and there was Krish, who had come from Mumbai to receive her.

Overwhelmed, Manasvi wept like a baby, hugging Madhu. Madhu consoled her and they took her home, along with Krish.

Manasvi sat with Preksha and Madhu, and Dadi for a long time, had dinner but again couldn’t sleep properly at night. She kept tossing and turning in bed, and when she was restless, she walked in the balcony, worrying about Anshuman. Preksha had postponed her marriage because of Anshuman. Could he leave her and go away without saying a proper goodbye? That was so not Anshuman.

She couldn’t stop her tears. “If it is a lie, I’m never going to forgive you.”

…………………………..

The next morning, she called Anshuman’s number. His phone was switched off. She didn’t know who had that phone but knew that whoever had it, had been helping them talk to each other. She decided to beg and request the person on the other side to tell her about Anshuman, if he was really being freed and if he was not, then, maybe help him be released.

But the call didn’t connect. It stayed off for the entire day.

Manasvi stared at the phone, hoping for it to ring. Hoping for Anshuman to ask her if she reached Delhi safely. Hoping for him to tell her that he was freed too, and was leaving Karachi for Scotland.

But it didn’t ring. RajSingh and Madhu told her that they had an appointment at MEA office on Tuesday where they would request the secretary to consider their application to appeal for Anshuman’s release in official capacity. Manasvi didn’t tell them about Anshuman’s call.

She couldn’t decide whether she should do that. If he was indeed being freed, and going away, this would break his parent’s and family’s heart. If he was still imprisoned, she couldn’t stop the process of his release. His family was terribly worried for him. They told her that her presence was not required. And it would complicate the case as she was still an Afghan national. Her presence was not good for Anshuman’s case.

Manasvi understood and told them to stay in touch with her, telling her about every development in the case. On her part, she would stay away. And would never come in limelight before any agency or media that she was related to Anshuman.

With a heavy heart, Manasvi said goodbye to Shekhawat family and returned to Mumbai with Krish, by an evening flight, next day.

One single moment had pushed her far away from Anshuman and his family.

In the flight, seated next to her, Krish tried to console her.

“Manasvi, we will do whatever we can to save Anshuman. I hope you know that not much is in our hands.”
Manasvi nodded vigorously, “I’m not ready to discuss. My emotions are all over the place. I’ve never felt this devastated before. I feel, I’m unable to breathe.”

“Take rest for a couple of days. Get your apartment in order. Come to office on Monday. Everybody is waiting for you to join.” Krish said.

“But, I can’t…” Tears flew down her cheeks.

Krish shrugged, “So, what are you planning to do to earn a living? Sure, you need to feed yourself and be able to pay the rent right? You can’t sit at home and brood for Anshuman. At job, you have ample things to distract yourself. Also, ours is a profession where we can actually think of doing something to help him.”

Krish made sense. The Insight was a job that she didn’t want to leave. She had got it after much struggle, and she had nothing else in hand. These were the people who valued her talent and work. She had to join something anyway. How long could she sit at home?

With a heavy heart, she said, “I’ll join on Monday.”

Krish smiled, “That’s great. Let’s see how Mr. Mehta and the team place you next. Work hard. Your experience with diverse backgrounds is golden. It will take you places.”

Manasvi ran her tongue to wet her dried lips and tried to smile meekly. She didn’t want to live with Anshuman and trouble him. She wasn’t dreaming of a life with him, anymore. But the least she deserved was a proper news about him. She decided she would be happy if someone told her that Anshuman was relaxed, free, and happy in Scotland.

But there was no hope left. She buried her face in her palms and sighed. Tears flew down in a constant stream from her eyes, for she was unable to bear anymore.

‘I don’t know where you are and I will probably never know. This stab will always stay in my heart like a thorn that pricked it, making it bleed, but was never taken out. This wound will remain unhealed in my heart, forever. It will never let me breathe free. It will never let me smile again. It will remain like a sore spot on my soul. I wish I could understand why a person like you would inflict so much pain upon someone.’

 

“And… I have different plans.” he said.

“Different?” she murmured with trembling lips, almost repeating him.

“Before I came to Afghanistan, I had an offer from my college in Scotland. They have openings in clinical research. I wasn’t considering it then because I was associated with PBB and then, I had to come to Afghanistan for you. But now…” His voice trailed off.

She completed it for him. “You are distressed. And you want time off?”

“Yeah!” He sighed, and huffed so that she could hear it clearly.

It had hurt her initially because she had been almost started believing that they were together in all ups and downs of life, from now on. That they were made for each other and could weave a new life out of their hopes, their dreams, their shared painful history, and most of all the love they had for each other.

But she was wrong. He was not a part of that dream that she had seen alone. And no matter how much he had done for her, it all bottled down to an emotion that he was not sure of. He had suffered enough. She had no right to make him suffer anymore.

Maybe that was best for both of them. Maybe she was not good enough for him. If he wanted to leave and go away, she didn’t have any right to stop him or ask him to reconsider.

She brushed the back of her hand at her nose to sniff away the tears shedding constantly and spoke in a steady voice, “Wow! That’s great news. Scotland will be a good option for you.”

He sighed. Finally, she had believed him. He couldn’t have asked for anything more. He asked carefully, “Do you think, it is a good option?”

“Yes, of course! I’m so happy for you.”

“I hope I’m not hurting you.”

“Oh…no..no! Please don’t think so,” She tried to speak as casually as she could, trying not to reveal her breaking voice, “I was feeling bad for you. So, it was gnawing on my mind. Now that you’ll be free and happy in your world, I’ll be relieved too.”

She leaned by the window in her room watching the setting sun, pressing her lips, struggling with the lump hurting her throat. She was lonely once again. But she had no reason to complain. She had asked God to help Anshuman. His freedom was the biggest gift she could have asked for. She was truly, genuinely happy.

“Sure?” Anshuman asked cautiously.

“Yup. Very sure.”

“If I ask you for something, will you be able to give it?”

“Anything for you, Anshuman. You have no idea what you have been for me and my life. I will do anything you ask me to.”

“Then, meet a lawyer, get divorce documents made, sign them and send them to my home in Delhi. I’ll ask my family to send them to me. I want to be free to begin a new life.”

She closed her eyes and kept listening to him, only to be distracted when he asked again, “Will you be able to do that?”

“Yeah! I’ll do it.” She agreed on a low whisper. If this was a test of her devotion, patience, strength, and resilience, then be it. She had sailed through many storms before. One more wouldn’t break her.

“Thank you. And with that, you are free too.” Anshuman winced painfully. It wasn’t easy for him but he knew that he had to do this to not only make her leave Kabul and go back to India, but to convince her to begin a new life without him.

She should start living again. She should be happy and positive about life ahead. Waiting and pining for him would make her life miserable. She heard him but instead of replying, she broke down, and placed her hand at her mouth to avoid making a noise.

Anshuman said firmly, “Please begin a new life and try to stay happy. It isn’t that difficult.”

“Hmm!”

“You have to promise me.”

She sighed, “If you promise to stay happy, I will do that too.”

“I’m very happy!” he spoke in a convincing voice.

She asked in a teary whisper, “Will you meet me? Someday?” Then, she quickly corrected herself, “No, not in near future…I don’t want to add to your pain or remind you of these brutal days… but maybe someday in future?”

He took a long pause, in which he wondered what he should reply and she hoped that he would someday agree to meet her and then she would probably sit with him for hours and hear him speak about every ordeal he had been through. She wished to hear him out and maybe help him heal his scars.

“I’m not sure.” He said.

“Okay! I understand.” With the last hope shattered, there was nothing left to talk. She feared the silence between them for it meant the end of the call, it meant that this was the last time she was talking to him, it meant that from now she would never know how he was, where he was, it meant the end of connection between them.
She nearly panicked at that.

It was too early. She had to say so much. She had to hear so much from him. Their conversations couldn’t end like that. There had to be more.

She quickly updated him before they said goodbye, hoping to get a source of contacting him, “Okay… alright… I’ll go back to India tomorrow… I’ll get the divorce papers made… and send them to you… will you mail me your address? …Or phone number?”

“Manasvi…” He interrupted her. He knew what she was going through while she was trying to behave brave and strong. He was going through the same. But till the time she thought that she could connect to him in some way, she was never going to be truly free.
They had no future. The sooner they accepted, the better it would be for them.

She replied, “Yes…”

“Send the papers to my mom. And please give me a break for few years.” He spoke in an exhausted tone.

She was immediately apologetic, “I’m sorry.”

“So? That’s it?”

“Yeah.” She tried to quickly remember if there was something else, she wanted to say. There was so much. So much!!!
Why she couldn’t remember even a single word at this moment. Should she say that she was thankful for everything? Should she tell him how much she loved him? Should she ask him to not go?

He didn’t give her much time to think. He said, “Goodbye!”

She nearly trembled. Her body had stiffened by now, too sore to move even an inch. She stammered and replied, “Please… take care… of yourself.”

“You too.” He disconnected the call. For a long moment, he looked at the phone screen, painfully and hopelessly until it looked blurred due to the pool of tears in his eyes. He had broken the last connection he had with his soul.
What was left with him was a lifeless body.

She lay down on the bed and cried like a baby. She could feel her body hurting physically at this heartbreak.

………………………

Junaid had been standing beside Anshuman, hearing every single thing. He took the phone back from Anshuman.

“What if she really moves on?” Junaid asked him.

Anshuman had a sad smile on his face with a dejected nod, “That is what I want. She should move on.”

“It’s unbelievable. You won’t even tell her that you are stuck here?”

“I can’t let her ruin her life.”

“You love her so much that you are ready to let go of her? Only to make sure that she is happy and peaceful in her life?” Junaid was flabbergasted. He had never seen someone going to this extent for his love.

“She is doing the same – letting me go – hoping that I’ll be content and peaceful without her.”

……………………………

It’s Tuesday. As promised, I’m updating Beyond Every Border.

I’m trying to keep up with the schedule.
Though, I’m posting a bit late. But since it was a really long update, I hope I’ll be excused 😊

Love you all 💖💖💖

Stay blessed. Take care 🤗🤗

……………………

For two days, Manasvi spent time either inside the Metropolitan hotel or with Liz and Asfiya at their boutique studio, going out as less as possible. She had once gone to the market to get some necessities, but when she returned to the hotel, she felt that she saw the cab driven by the criminal who was following her.

She didn’t see the man but only the sight of the cab unnerved her. She had been plain lucky that she was saved until now. She decided to not venture out anymore.

Krish and RajSingh Shekhawat informed Manasvi that the Ministry of External Affairs was not keen on taking Anshuman’s case. They were firm that they hadn’t sent anyone to Pakistan in their knowledge. He didn’t stay in India for past several years, was in Syria and Afghanistan before this, and didn’t even take a flight from India to reach Pakistan. He had gone by flight from Abu Dhabi.
Every evidence increased suspicion on his intentions and they were unable to take responsibility of his actions.

Manasvi nearly panicked. Tears dropped from her eyes, one after the other, in a regular stream. She had been scared that Anshuman would get in trouble because of her. But she also had hopes that he would prove to be innocent and will be freed. The refusal from the ministry shattered her optimism to pieces. Each piece stabbing her like a knife through her heart.

She couldn’t stop herself and wept inconsolably, burying her face in the palms of her hands. Her misery wouldn’t come to an end. And now, she had been the reason for a lifetime of torture for the man who meant the most to her. Anshuman was everything for her. Her angel. Her saviour. He had eventually sacrificed his freedom while she was roaming free. She felt so disgusted that she couldn’t breathe.
She wished she could go back few months and change her decision to apply for job and renewal of passport. Her first priority should have been to give divorce to Anshuman, the day he had asked her for that.
He would have been free of her cursed shadows if they were divorced at this moment. He wouldn’t have followed her to Afghanistan and never gone to Karachi.

Asfiya hugged her to console her. Krish called her again to tell her that they were now trying to get a cabinet minister to recommend their case and to ask them to review again. Liz called her husband in the mean time and told him everything about Manasvi, Anshuman, and how he had landed there.

She disconnected the call and returned to sit with Asfiya and Manasvi. She patted Manasvi’s shoulder and said, “Manasvi, my husband is at a high post in the Ministry of External Affairs, Afghanistan. He says that he has strong contacts in the Ministry in Pakistan. He can try to get Anshuman freed on his level.”

Manasvi raised her face from her palms. She was shivering even now. She wiped her tears and whispered, “Really? Will he help us?”

Liz nodded, “Yes. He said he can’t promise how much time it will take. But he will try his level best. He will call someone in Pakistan ministry tomorrow and see how it needs to be taken ahead.”

Manasvi pressed her lips, and spoke resolutely, “I’ll postpone my tickets. I’ll stay here.”

Liz said, “You can go back to India, tomorrow. I’ll ensure Hamid calls his friends and takes up the case.”

Manasvi gave it a thought and wondered if the seriousness of the issue will be diluted if she went back from here. Why will anyone follow the case seriously to help her if she left? And they wouldn’t know how distressed she was. Maybe they needed some insights into Anshuman’s career and professional life. If she was here, she could contact Amanda, and Alex. Anshuman’s father and Krish were in India, so she wouldn’t be of much help there. Instead, she should stay here and pursue Liz’s husband to follow up Anshuman’s case and ask him to help them.

Manasvi finally decided and firmly declared, “No, I’ll stay here. Maybe your husband needs more information about Anshuman. You are leaving for France next week. I don’t want Hamid bhai to forget us.”

Liz smiled, “He won’t forget.”

“Still I want to stay.”

“To pressurize him?” Liz patted her hand jovially, to relax her.

It made Manasvi smile. She sighed. “Yes. Kind of.”

Manasvi might have smiled but deep down she knew that it was nearly an impossible task for an office in Afghanistan to get Anshuman freed. She knew Hamid could request and inquire, but will they leave Anshuman on his appeal? Will they??

She knew that it was a far-fetched hope but she had no other option left. She had to hold on to the last thread of hope, no matter how fragile it was.

……………………………….

At night, Manasvi was deep asleep when she woke up with a loud sound of blast, almost piercing through her ear drums. The sound was followed by large uproar, noise of people screaming, shrieks and cries. And then, it was the same familiar burning smell that diffused through the windows into the room.

For a moment, it felt that she was dreaming. But she was not. She jumped down from her bed and coughing through her way, she opened the window to see outside. The small eatery behind the hotel was in fumes now. People rushed to bring the dead and injured out of the rubble. Some screamed to search for their loved ones and some queued up to throw water and sand to douse the fire.

Manasvi closed the window and sat down on the floor, huddled together in a small bundle, trying to get rid of the goosebumps, reminding her of the childhood, and teenage she had spent with this noise and chaos.

Surprisingly, even after years had passed, the situation still remained similar. For one reason or the other, some people found it so easy to kill innocent people just to make their voices be heard.

This was the value of a living, breathing human life.

…………………………….

Two days had passed and Anshuman was drowning deeper in the ocean of despair, with no hopes to revive his faith.

He had heard stories about people rotting in jails for years without any hearing. Not even in his weirdest dreams, he had ever imagined his fate to meet him like this. Making him a part of those lost stories.

He couldn’t sleep for two nights, he didn’t eat well, he couldn’t stay calm. He had spent restless nights in underground bunkers for days but none was as scary as this.
He wished he could meet his parents once and thanked them for everything they had done for him. His dadi, his sister Preksha, his friends… and most of all, Manasvi.

If he ever knew that he was going to be suddenly stuck at a place, never to meet them again, he would have said his goodbye in a better way – thanking each of them for their presence in his life, telling them how much he loved them, asking them to move on without him.

Junaid Khan came to knock on the bars of his cell. His face was drawn and saddened. Anshuman was sitting on the floor of the cell. He didn’t move this time. He simply turned to throw a glance at Junaid and sighed, “I knew it.”

Junaid thrust his hands in his jacket and paced before his cell. Anshuman said, “They refused to file official request of release, right?”

Junaid tried to be hopeful. “For now, yes. But that doesn’t mean end of story. They have not refused as such. They haven’t replied, so it is considered as refusal. They will be given more time. There are more such cases like you. Your name will be sent again with them. Maybe next time, you get lucky.”

Anshuman had a lopsided smirk on his lips. A sad, sly of a smirk. Who knew government official works better than him. Even when genuine, they took years. Here, his entire history and past records were confusing. Who will take responsibility on his behalf?

For now, his story had indeed ended.

Junaid said, “We have to go.”

“Where?” Anshuman asked.

“We can’t keep you here in lock-up for long. We were questioning you so for the time being, you were in police custody. Now, for longer duration, you will be sent to Sindh Jail, until some decision is taken for you. Tomorrow, we will take your judicial custody.”

Anshuman stood up, visibly despondent and miserable. He ran his fingers in his ruffled hair to push them away from his forehead and closed his eyes, before taking a deep breath. He threw a glance at himself in the glass window of the police station. The man in the reflection wasn’t him. He couldn’t recognise himself. So many days in transit and travel had his beard and moustache grow more than he had ever let them grow. He had lost weight and he looked more frail than before. His eyes were sunken inside the hollow around them with a tinge of darkness increasing his sullen look. His face was sadder and disheartened.

His attention was distracted towards the small TV set running news in one corner. There had been a blast in Kabul. An eatery near Metropolitan hotel had been blown by insurgents. Nearly ten people had died, including three women and two children.

Anshuman froze when he heard the news. Deeply worried and anxious for Manasvi. He hoped Manasvi was fine. He wished he could talk to her.

Junaid saw him focused on the news, he came to him and said, “I want to tell you something.”

“What?”

Junaid gave Anshuman’s phone to him, and said, “I was going through your phone. There were some messages from your wife. Sorry, I had to read them. She had sent pictures of a cab and possibly a driver. Maybe to stay on a safer side. Or maybe someone is harassing her.”

“What!” Anshuman was dumbfounded.

“You said she is alone in Kabul. It is not that safe for women to roam around alone. Though, in the message on the next day, she had written that she has booked ticket for India for tomorrow. So, that means she is safe. But still… as this blast happened last night. Ask her if she is fine…”

Anshuman wet his dried lips by running his tongue over the lower lips and took the phone to dial a call to Manasvi. He scrolled through her messages with a racing heart beat.

Manasvi was in the hotel room when her phone rang. She was almost startled when she read the name. Her tears flew down as she answered him, and broke down when she spoke in rapid sentences, “Anshuman, oh my God, is it you? Finally, they let you make a call… how are you?… are you fine?… I was so so so worried about you…”

“Are you fine?” He asked, ignoring all her questions of his whereabouts, almost interrupting her. He was extremely worried about her and he couldn’t wait to know if she was safe in the hotel. “I received a few messages… and a picture of cab driver…”

One sentence from him and she felt like she was home. His voice, his words, his presence on the other side of the call was so soothing, it was like a balm on her scars.

She wiped her tears and spoke in composed sentences this time. “Those messages – don’t worry about them, I sent them to everyone I know – to be on the safer side…”
“Was someone harassing you?”
“Yeah… but it was a small thing… I clicked the pictures, sent to few people and called the cops.”

He winced in agony, “Cops? Did they help you? Manasvi, please stay safe and take meticulous care when you are alone… you know how it is…”
“Anshuman, nothing bad happened.” Manasvi stressed on her words to relieve him. “I made few friends here and they helped me a lot. And I kept sending messages to you about everything so that you know where I am if you happen to get hold of your phone.”

“You are safe, right?” He asked again, to be sure and to relieve the chaos in his mind.

“Yes. I’m safe… But what about you? Are they treating you well?”

“Yes. As of now, I’m fine.”

“Krish, tells me that the Indian government…”

“Yes, I heard about that.”

“But you don’t worry. My friend’s husband is in the Ministry here. He has assured me that he will go out of his way to get you released. His close friend is a high official in Pakistan and he has some strong contacts there. He will request in his own capacity…”

Anshuman was not even interested. He knew how different governments, their official protocols, and especially diplomatic relations worked. They didn’t work on relationships and requests. He sighed, “Your safety is my prime priority, right now. I read your message that you are going to India tomorrow. Travel safely and for some time, stay with mom dad if you are feeling lonely.”

“I’m not going to India, tomorrow.” She said impulsively.

“What!!!” He couldn’t believe what he heard. Was this girl insane?

“I can’t go. Liz’s husband, Hamid bhai has assured that he will do something. Now that one road is closed, we have to try all options…”

“Listen, Manasvi…” Anshuman didn’t know what to tell her. This girl was stubborn. She was staying back to ensure that he was released. It was not even possible, according to him. And even if it was, it would take weeks, months, maybe years. How could she simply stay back in Kabul, relying on a faint hope that some stranger was going to help her.

“Anshuman, you listen… I can do nothing in India. They have already refused. Krish and uncle are there… they will try their best… but I can stay here… and…”

No…no…no… he couldn’t let her be there! Anshuman was panic stricken. So much that it made him very angry.

“Will. You. Shut. Up?” Anshuman yelled at her loudly, without realising that he was in lockup himself. For this moment, nothing else mattered than her. And it seemed nearly impossible to convince her to go back. She was hell bent on spoiling her life for him. His heart was racing hard, as he spoke gritting his teeth. With a clenched jaw, he  shouted once again, “Just shut up and listen to me…PLEASE!!”

Manasvi squirmed. She hadn’t imagined Anshuman to lose his cool. He appeared so angry. So much so that he scared her. Anshuman could feel her apprehension in her silence. He didn’t mean to scare her.

He sighed and took a deep breath, before he spoke calmly, one word at a time. “Manasvi, listen to me, please.”

“I’m listening.”

“The Chief had called and validated my identity. They know him. They also caught the driver who had stolen my passport and my documents. They know that I am innocent.”

“Really?” Her smile tore through her tears, warming her heart and her entire soul. What he was saying appeared unbelievable. Why was he telling it so late? Why didn’t he tell this to her before? Will they free him now?

Anshuman knew her questions. He knew what she was thinking. He leaned by the bars in his cell and said in a calm, serious voice, “Yes, they know that I am innocent and now, they have decided to free me. So, you don’t need to stay back in Kabul and struggle alone for my release. Take the flight for India and leave tomorrow. Do you get that?”

He crossed his fingers, constantly praying that she trusted him, believed his words and left Kabul tomorrow. It was very important for him. It was important for her safety and his peace of mind. He couldn’t imagine her running from pillar to post, alone, in an unknown country asking people to help her. With people like the cab driver harassing her and the blasts happening frequently, how was she even planning to stay safe.

Manasvi was still unable to believe it. This is was the biggest news she could get. She had wanted nothing more than Anshuman’s release. As if all her desires, wishes, and ambitions had melted to form this one wish of a lifetime. Just for him to be free.

“Anshuman, I’m so so happy… but why didn’t you tell me before? I was so worried…”

He sighed, and spoke on a hurting throat, “To be honest, I’m drained. Tired and exhausted. You know how it has been since years. Since my childhood, when I was maybe 3 or 4 years – all I have seen is disturbance and disruption – blasts, killings, poverty, hunger, noise, unrest – everywhere the same – in Kabul, in Kashmir, while working in PBB, in Iraq, in Syria – the same – the bombings, the faulty system, the pain, the torture, the bloodshed, the dead bodies, fumes suffocating the bronchii, the burning smell, broken ribs, hurt legs… there is no end… and I’m tired. I know I can’t make a difference and there is no point in trying anymore. I want to live my life now… a life away from all this nonsense. A rosy, beautiful life filled only with brightness, colours, happiness, and peace.”

Manasvi heard him patiently. Trying to understand what he was trying to say. She had often thought of a life like that. He did make sense. It was not unusual for a person to look for make-believe world after a bitter dose of reality. He had had enough of reality for which he had suffered for long. It was fine to wish for happiness forever.

She was so lost in listening to his deeply agonising description that she didn’t even consider that he was showing her an image that existed only in his words. There was no reality to it. His magic worked and she believed him.

He continued, “Am I wrong in asking for a better future?”

“No!” She sighed, and whispered.

“Will you be happy for me if I wanted to go away from this mayhem? This havoc is killing me. Can I hope for a life where I can forget my previous life? Every single day of my past? Including PBB?”

Her throat choked. He was asking for a life away from everything that reminded him of his past. Did it include her?

He didn’t wait for her reply, and said, “Manasvi, I didn’t tell you before because I didn’t want to hurt you. I feel guilty and it was killing me. But you insisted on staying back so I had to tell you. Please go back to India. I will be free in a day or two, and…”

“And?” She asked with trembling lips. Her goosebumps made her shudder, her spine stiffened, and her neck hurt.
She wanted the best for him and she could do anything for him, this was clear to her since years. She always knew that she could go to any lengths to ensure that he was happy. If his happiness meant going away from her, she was prepared for that too. All she wanted was for him to be happy, and free.
The fact that she had fallen in love with him was an unnecessary complication and she could deal with it. They could go back a few years, like she had wished for, and begin things where they didn’t even know each other.

He was not in love with her, she knew that. It was clear that he might have been carried away by the difficult situations in past few days and felt emotionally drawn to her, but only momentarily. She was not his love. She had never been. It was her one-sided feeling and she had to deal with it on her own.

Still, somewhere in the deepest corners of her heart, a teeny-tiny hope against hope grew, wishing to hear a happy twist that he would speak after her ‘and’ … that he would join her in India…  or that he would take her with him to a faraway land where they began a new life together. They could escape this pain together.

But he said nothing like that. He didn’t intend to. He murmured disinterestedly.

“And… I have different plans.”

……………………………………………..

I know this phase is sad and depressing. I haven’t been able to write faster and so it has stretched for days.
Apologies.

But what is life without the worst of downfalls and peaks of glories
And what is a story without a roller coaster ride.
Love you for staying by me through this. 

……………………..

Sitting around the round coffee table in Liz’s studio, Manasvi browsed through the various sites opened her laptop, to book a ticket for New Delhi.

She didn’t want to go back to the hotel for now. She didn’t have the heart to. Nor she felt like returning to the cold, silent room. It brought bad thoughts and panic.
So, when Liz offered her a cup of coffee at her studio, Manasvi gladly agreed. They talked about several things. Manasvi’s education and job, life in Mumbai, and about journalism.
Manasvi observed the beautifully decorated studio, the designer dresses, exquisitely embroidered and embellished in sequins and lace.

After some time, Manasvi opened the laptop to book the ticket.
At the same time, she decided to contact a Human Rights Commission and a lawyer in Karachi for Anshuman as things were getting delayed and it made her nervous. Liz told her that she would request her husband to contact the lawyer and NGO, in case she needed help.

Asfiya arranged the couture gowns on a long stand meant for the same. She worked for Liz and her parents had allowed her to go out of the home to work if she was with Elizabeth and in her studio. As Elizabeth sold only women’s clothes, it was a safe place for women to go, both for shopping and working.

The wooden doors of Elizabeth’s studio cast a perfect barrier to shut away a world outside, a world that wasn’t kind to women. Inside those doors, the story was different. Inside, it was their domain, their choice, their life!

Manasvi sipped from her coffee that one of the assistant served her, and said, “I’m getting a flight, for Saturday. Delhi is not far, anymore.”
A satisfied, yet nervous sigh escaped her lips. For some weird reason, she was hopeful that she might be able to do something for Anshuman after she reached Delhi. She would beg before the authorities to help him. She would do anything in her capacity to see to it that he was out of the bars.
He had gone there because of her and she couldn’t live with this burden that he was trapped because of her. And despite that he had ensured that she received her papers in time.

All that Anshuman had done for her, at every step, every phase of her life, had been instrumental in shaping the arc of her existence.
She was what she was, because of him. She was strong and independent, because of him. In fact, she was alive, because of him.

She had come to Afghanistan on her own, hoping to sort out the matter of citizenship and passport. But Anshuman followed her and stood by her through every step. Today, she had all certificates, and her passport. She was going back to India.
But where was Anshuman?
He had to sacrifice his freedom for her.

She couldn’t let anything happen to him, no matter what it took from her. She would go to any lengths to see him safe, sound, and happy.

Liz and Asfiya were both glad. Liz said, “Saturday is two days from now.”
“Yeah! The flights before that are all booked.”
“No problem. These two days will pass soon. You stay with us until then.” Liz offered.

Manasvi refused, “Oh no! Please don’t bother. I’ll go back to the hotel once the sun sets.”

Liz raised her hands in air and smiled, “Sure, you won’t be scared?”

Manasvi nodded, “Once inside the hotel, I feel pretty safe. I hope those guys give up on their search for me.”

“Don’t worry! It’s only 2 days.”

“Yeah!” Manasvi sighed.

“Do you know, even we are leaving for France next week?” Asfiya said.

“Really?” Manasvi was glad to see Asfiya beaming in happiness.

Liz nodded, “Yes! We are opening a new store in Milan. Once it sets in action and the operations begin, we will have more work in my native place and I will freely commute. I’m bored living here. I miss France.”

“I understand.” Manasvi murmured. It was indeed tough for a French to adjust to Afghan way of living. Liz had managed until now, was commendable. They told her that Asfiya will stay in France after that. She wanted this allocation because even of her parents understood her decision to have a career, her extended family wanted to see her married this year.

Manasvi booked the ticket for New Delhi, for Saturday. She called Krish to inform him. He was overjoyed. He had been missing her too.

“First tell me, are you safe?” Krish was suddenly reminded of her message. “I saw the pictures of the driver that you sent me, along with the car number and all… sorry, I was in the hospital. I saw them just today and wondered what it was all about.”

Manasvi relieved him, “Yes, I am safe. I just sent them to be on a safer side that you have a proof about who I am with. That driver was trying to act nasty with me.”

“All sorted? Or…??” Krish asked.

“Everything fine. Leave that aside, I’m fine and coming back on Saturday.”

“That’s the best news I’ve heard today.”

“How’s your mother?” She asked.

“She is fine now. She was admitted in a hospital for 2 days but now she is discharged. Weakness and blood pressure, along with some cardiac issues, the doctors say!”

“Hmm! Take care of her. Mothers are precious.” Manasvi murmured softly, remembering her own mother and how ill she had been during the last few years of her life.

“Yes. They are precious. Thank you.”

“Take care. I’ll see you after I come to Mumbai.”

“Great. Mr. Mehta cannot wait to see you. He is mighty impressed with the way you have handled the Afghanistan trip, managed every dire situation. He says that he is privileged to have someone like you in the team.”

Manasvi was surprised. “Really?”

“Yes. When you come back, we have a line-up of possible new roles that you take up in the team. We want to see you in leadership roles.”

Manasvi smiled, “And here I was thinking that I might have lost the job.”

“No way. You are a journalist who doesn’t do her job. She lives it. You have a rich experience. You are brave. You understand the situation and the socio-geographic-politics of so many countries. Which organisation will let you leave?”

“I’m honoured.”

“Hey! I wanted to tell you something,” Krish said, “Next week, I’m going to Vienna for a conclave on climate change. The Insight has exclusive rights to interview the speakers/leaders from all over the world. Would you come?”

Manasvi said, “Krish, you are forgetting that Anshuman is in jail. I can’t go anywhere as long as he is in captivity. I can’t leave any stone unturned unless I get him out of the bars.”

Krish explained patiently, “Manasvi, what can you possibly do? Meet the ministers and plead to them? We are doing that already. All applications are in process. I went to every office myself. Anshuman’s dad goes there twice a day. They don’t even give appointment to talk. Mr.Mehta is personally monitoring his case only because of you.”

“I know! But…”

“But it is not in our hands. These things take time. You know how governments work. The file gets shifted up in due course of time. They are investigating his case and whether they can officially ask for his release.”

Manasvi frowned, “I feel so helpless.”

“All of us do. But we can’t stop working. We can’t stop living.”

Manasvi wished to tell him that she had stopped living the moment she heard that Anshuman was captured. He was in jail, suffering what she doesn’t even know. How could her life, go on smoothly? She had stopped living the moment Anshuman left her in Kabul. She was desperately waiting for him to be back now. Desperately waiting for her life, her breaths, her heartbeats to return to her. At this moment, she was merely existing. Just being there, as if in a daze, without him.

But she didn’t tell him. Krish will never understand.

She just said, “Give me some time, Krish. I’m coming home on Saturday. I’ll decide what I want to do after I take rest for some time. But I am definitely not going to Vienna. Or anywhere else.

“Okay! Take your time.” Krish disconnected, wondering if Anshuman would ever be freed. And will Manasvi will ever be able to work like before. Her concentration, her heart, her life was now tugged to Anshuman.

…………………….

Junaid Khan said, “See, we all know that you were not lying. And that you are innocent. But some things are to be done according to the protocol and the guidelines. I have full confidence in justice. Allah never fails the innocent. You will get justice. And we are waiting for the same.”

Anshuman kept sitting on the jail floor. He looked at Junaid pointedly and said, “Your government wants to prove to the United Nations and the world that they are benevolent and nice and they let an innocent man go, but for that they will need to create a noise to the world that I am here, right?”

Junaid shrugged, “There is no harm in gaining some brownie points from a situation. In all honesty, if we let you go, it WILL be an act of generosity and kindness. It will be humane. So I have full faith that you will be freed.”

Anshuman nodded to refuse, his voice lowering, “But I don’t.”

“Why?” Junaid was surprised.

“You are too hopeful. There is a clause here. IF, AT ALL, the Indian government requests for my release, they will do so, right? Deep down, I’m sure that they won’t.”

“How can you say so?”

“They will investigate. I haven’t lived in India for last several years. No one knows where I was. Only PBB does. Who will convince the officials in India to request for my release. They will wonder if I was a real spy associated with an insurgent group. Why will they risk their reputation for one ambiguous PBB doctor.”

Juanid jumped down from the desk that he was sitting on, in the Police HQ. He rested his hands in his pockets and spoke confidently, “Don’t be so negative. We will find a way. We have a sent a letter about your arrest to MEA of India. Let’s wait for their response.”

Anshuman shook his head, “I’ve lost all hope.”

“My ammi says that every breath we take is a blessing from God. As long as we are breathing, let the hope stay alive.”

………………………………..

I try to reply to as many people as I can. If I haven’t replied to you, apologies.  I must have been caught in work, commitments etc. 

Thank you for all the support. Lots of love to all of you 💖💖💖

………………………………………….

“We will wait for an official request from government of India to release you.” Junaid Khan said.

“Whattt!”

Anshuman couldn’t believe what he had just heard. Did ACP Junaid Khan really speak what he had been fearing?
Anshuman had been apprehensive about it for long. He had heard stories about how certain people caught in a foreign land spent years behind bars before they were proved innocent. But this wasn’t even the case here.
He was proved innocent and there was valid evidence to verify all that he had spoken and claimed. Yet, they were not releasing him. They were waiting for the government to claim that he was Indian citizen and request them officially to release him.

The relationship between the two countries didn’t give him much hope. It was a dire situation.

He shook his head disbelievingly and reminded Junaid, “Didn’t you say that I will be treated fairly? Now, that you know that I am innocent, you have proofs too, is it fair to detain me?”

Junaid nodded and replied, “No, it isn’t fair. Trust me. I’ll try my level best to get your case expedited.”

“Try?” Anshuman murmured, losing all his hopes, slowly and gradually. He was banking on his documents, PBB chief, every proof from visa office, and Manasvi’s school. He was sure that these were enough to prove the reason of his visit and that he was not a spay. Now every proof was in ACP’s hands and was in favour of Anshuman.
There was nothing more to hold on to. Anshuman went back inside the cell, where he was sitting previously, on the floor, with his head dropped in uncertainty and hopelessness.

He knew, he had to wait. For how long, he didn’t know.

…………………………

Manasvi lay back on the bed of her hotel room. She hadn’t eaten anything since morning. First the incident with the cab driver had her shaking. And then there was no breakthrough in Anshuman’s case.

Everyone she had laid her hopes on expressed inability to move ahead due to some reason or the other. No one could help them. Neither Krish nor Mr. Mehta. Neither Anshuman’s dad nor the Chief. Alex, Amanda, no one.
It seemed as if the entire world was helpless.

She had gone to Elizabeth’s fashion studio before she was dropped by her safely to the hotel. Inside the studio, there was a different world – of fashion, clothes, style, choices and desires, frills and flounces, colours and shades. Elizabeth believed in bringing out the brighter side of every situation and Manasvi loved her approach.

Elizabeth was a French designer, living in Afghanistan, out of choice. It wasn’t easy. It must have come with a lot of struggle and persistence to stay in a different country, more conservative than yours, accept and appreciate their culture, and then dare to open a business. Drive a car. Move around on your own.
Each chore that seemed easy and casual in some countries was a fight women fought on an everyday basis in many parts of the world. Elizabeth must have faced ridicule and disbelief too.
But love made her cross the threshold. Beyond every fear, fight, and struggle.

There existed different people in the world. All kinds of human beings with their own set of beliefs and ideologies. They had their own stories of tenacity and perseverance. They braved different battles for love.
Elizabeth’s story gave hope to Manasvi.

Anshuman and Manasvi belonged to two different worlds too, and yet they were so similar. Their stories coincided and merged together. As if they were destined to be. As if they were made for each other. How could it be explained otherwise!
They could hope for a happy ending too. They deserved it.

She couldn’t lose hope. That was all she had.
She knew, she had to wait. The following morning would surely bring some good news.

……………………

Morning arrived with terrible headache shearing her scalp as if it would split in two. Not having proper food on the previous day and not sleeping well did that to her.

Manasvi had her breakfast in the room and took a pain killer to be able to get ready. She had to collect her passport today. It was ‘the’ most important chore right now. A passport was the power which would enable her to stay back, or leave for India, on choice. Not on any compulsion.

When she stepped out towards the foyer, she spotted the cab driver, she had complained against, yesterday. He looked anxious, peering around nervously, though standing far from the hotel driveway, but Manasvi recognised him. She didn’t forget people easily.

What should she do at this stage?
Fighting with him, complaining against him, confronting him, so many things came to her mind but she was drained out of her energy. She didn’t need any drama for now. He was obviously not alone. He might have a gang. Maybe a nexus with human traffickers. Should she go all out to expose him?

No. She would have done that in India or wherever her office was, where she had access to support. She was a journalist, after all.
But journalists should have brain too, she argued with herself. They should know what is and what is not in their scope. She had no one here. For how long, would she be able to survive after putting up a fight and not winning it? What were the chances that the police and system would believe and favour her?
Human traffickers had high contacts. What would happen if a powerful official was involved and she was trapped without anyone to rescue her.

She kept arguing with herself as she walked back into the hotel. Her brave side, the one who fought for right and truth, the one who was a journalist was upset with her weaker side, who wanted to hide inside her room and search for a refuge.
She remembered how they had to run away in the middle of the night, and then cross borders several times, amidst chaos and bloodshed.

All her confidence melted away and she realised that she was shivering by the time she reached her room. She bolted the door tightly from inside and sat huddled in a corner.

She was trapped. And so was Anshuman.

……………………

She hadn’t slept for the entire night. After she slipped inside her quilt over the cozy bed, she trembled for a long time before drifting to sleep.

When she woke up, it was already 2:00 pm.
Manasvi could feel her tears, dried and sticking on her cheek. Her body ached because she had been too stiff to sleep well.

She hated to feel sick. She had behaved courageously in front of that scoundrel yesterday and she didn’t know what was the source of that confidence. She had spent her life dealing with creepy men.
But today, deep down she was scared. Maybe because of lack of energy. Or maybe, fear of unknown.

She dialled a call to Elizabeth.

“Liz, he is here.”
“See, I told you, right? I knew he would. Not only him but his entire creepy gang must be around. Now that they know that you are alone, they will try their best to get you.”
“Should I call the police?” Manasvi weighed the options. Police had done nothing much yesterday. They didn’t even drop her back safely. She had to ride with Liz.

“Forget it. Take your passport and book an earliest flight to India. That’s the only way you will escape them. There is no point in staying here for more.”

“I’m thinking about the same. I should go back to India. To avoid these guys. And to see, if I can do something for Anshuman.”

“Yes. You won’t be able to do much sitting here. Anyway, you met people you wanted to search for. It’s time to go back.” Liz said with concern.

Manasvi had shared with her that she had stayed back alone to meet and search for some old relatives of her and Anshuman. Most of Anshuman’s story, Liz had guessed from Manasvi’s frantic calls to Krish, and others.

“But how do I get my passport?” Manasvi said. “They are outside.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll come to pick you up. Be ready in an hour.”

“Won’t they recognise me? Won’t you be at risk for helping me?” Manasvi was worried.

Liz smiled, “Relax. I’ll bring a friend with me and bring a chador for you. All three of us will move out covered head to toe. No one will stop or bother us. No one will recognise.”

……………………

An hour later, Liz did as she had promised. She had brought a chador for Manasvi. She helped her wear it. Her other friend, Asfiya, an Afghan woman in her thirties, found it an adventure. She shared with Manasvi how she was rescued by police when the car in which they were transporting her after kidnapping met with an accident.

“You were kidnapped?” Manasvi nearly shrieked, adjusting her attire and trying to walk in it so that it appeared natural.

“Yes.”

“From where?”

“From my school bus. They just stopped the bus and took away four of us. But the car toppled after an accident as the driver lost control, we were rescued by police, and our parents got us back.”

Manasvi felt grateful that she was saved in time. She thanked God and took a deep breath. The three woman casually walked out of the hotel, sat in Liz’s car and left for the office of MEA to collect Manasvi’s passport.

Manasvi collected her passport and couldn’t stop her tears trickling down from her eyes. Liz and Asfiya felt like godsent angels to her. Overwhelmed, she hugged them.

Sometimes, you live with people for years and yet you don’t feel any connection with them. On the other times, you meet someone and within moments they feel like family. Liz and Asfiya were those angels for Manasvi.

She closed her eyes and prayed as her tears didn’t stop streaming.

‘God, please send an angel for Anshuman, too! Please!’

……………………….

Next Update – Tomorrow, ie 16.12.2020

Thanks for reading 🤗💖

As promised in my last My Corner post – The Fortnight That It Was

I will be posting new updates of BEB on Every Tuesday. So here, it is.
I’m trying to get back to the schedule mode😊 It is easier for me to maintain a deadline and peaceful for you so that you know when to expect the update.

Thank you so much for all the love to this story.  You are the reason I am posting it here 💖💖

Love you all.  Take care 🤗🤗🤗

…………………………………..

 

The man talking to Manasvi in a derogatory manner was taken aback at being snapped at. Before this he had gotten away with passing snide remarks carelessly about women. Before this women ignored his mannerlessness to avoid unnecessary altercation. Maybe that resulted in his guts to swell up and spew venom on any woman he came in contact with.
After Manasvi’s retort, he sheepishly looked around and stayed quiet.

Men and women, both officials and visitors, were attracted to the little spat and suddenly everyone was looking at them. They included Afghan citizens, and several foreigners who had come for correction in their passports, or Tazkira, or other official work. One of them was Elizabeth, who was particularly interested in the clash as she was immediately impressed by Manasvi’s voice and defiant tone.

The officer in-charge stepped ahead in the meantime, and scolded the offender, “What’s your issue buddy? Don’t make things difficult here.”

The man cleared his throat and disinterestedly mouthed a formal apology. “Sorry!”

Manasvi didn’t want to stretch the conversation. So she ended it, saying, “It’s okay. But I am very much a citizen of Afghanistan. I have every right to ask for respect. I may ask for a change when something that doesn’t guarantee safety for me. And even if I was a tourist, your responsibilities don’t decrease. They increase. Isn’t it up to you to ensure safety of women around you? On top of that, you are government officials. Where will we go if officers behave like rogues?”

She was not fighting or shouting at any moment. She spoke in a polite, yet offended tone. She was firm and not weak. Yet she was neither yelling, nor pleading.

Something that impressed everyone. Especially Elizabeth. The officer in charge apologised too and said, “Sorry again, on behalf of my staff. Your documents are completed. It will take a few hours to issue the passport. You can pick it up any time after tomorrow.”

Manasvi thanked the officer. He left Manasvi in the visitors lounge after that.

Elizabeth approached Manasvi, with a hand stretched towards her for a hand-shake, “Hello! Seems like you are new here. I’m Elizabeth. You can call me Liz. May I help you?”

Manasvi liked her friendly attitude, offer for help and lovely polite tone. She was a tall, white woman, with wavy blonde hair and green eyes, her lips were naturally pink and she was wearing a strong perfume. She was clad in a long kurta, with full sleeves, stretching almost till her ankles. Below the kurta was denim jeans, visible through the side slits of the kurta. Black boots and a hijab covering her hair and her head completed her look.

“Hello, I’m Manasvi Rathore. Thanks for the offer, but the police has been called.”

The woman looked around her and asked, “Are you alone? There is no one with you?”

Manasvi felt uneasy with this question. Already she was having a tough time in this country, persistent reminder that she was alone was a constant hammering of nails in her patience level. She wished she could hold on for more. And once again, with a smile on her lips, she nodded, “Yes.”

Elizabeth understood her problem and said, “Don’t worry. I am harmless.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you.” Manasvi was apologetic. Then, she explained to her that she was from India and was here for renewal of her passport and how a cab driver had tried to act nasty with her.

“They are like that, when they see a woman alone. Afghanistan is notorious for being dangerous for women.”

“I know. I’m trying to take all precautions.”

In the meanwhile, the cops arrived. The driver had already fled from the scene. He disappeared before the cops arrived and called his associates for a change in strategy. He wasn’t able to get Manasvi with him. So the cops found nothing. They took Manasvi’s statement and asked her to inform in case someone troubles them. Azfar too called back to know if all was well with Manasvi. Manasvi confirmed that she was fine.

Elizabeth was looking at her in awe. She sighed, “Oh my God! You speak Persian?”

“I do!” Manasvi grinned.

“How?” Elizabeth asked.

“It’s a long story.” Manasvi tried to brush it off.

“That is why you are able to manage so well. So smoothly.”

“Well… I’m just trying to.”

“And you’ve come from India?” Liz rolled her eyes, “Look at me, I’m here for 10 years and still can’t speak fluent Dari. It’s broken… I kinda manage…”

“10 years?” Manasvi was surprised. She didn’t expect this European woman to say that she was living in Afghanistan for 10 years. At best, she looked like a tourist. Moreover, she was alone too.

“Yeah. I’m French, married to an Afghan man. My husband is an official in the ministry. I came here to get some papers signed.”

It was fascinating for Manasvi to hear that. There were all sorts of people in the world, with unique stories, special love stories, different types of marriages. She was pleased to meet Liz.

“Come, I’ll take you to the hotel.”

“Please don’t bother. I’ll take a cab.”

“The cab driver must be lurking around nearby, hoping to catch you unawares. You can’t trust any cab driver at this moment. They might be connected to him.”

Manasvi squirmed. There were high chances that what Liz as saying was true. But then, she met this lady only few minutes ago, how can she trust her. Wasn’t it too early to trust someone? But what options she had in hand, anyway?
This one looked more reliable than any cab driver. If she had to choose between the two, and since there was no other way out, she would choose Liz.

“Okay!” Manasvi spoke in a low, reluctant voice.

Liz smiled, and took out a card from her purse. Giving it to Manasvi, she said, “Trust me, I will try my best to help you. Once I was like you in this country – alone, confused, scared… I know the pain.”

Manasvi read the card – Elizabeth Martin Sayed – Fashion Designer.
It had her full address and phone number. Manasvi was relieved as she firmly clutched the card in her fist.

Liz filled her with the information written on the visiting card, as they walked out of the building of MEA, towards the parking, “Martin is my parental surname that I didn’t want to leave. Sayed is my husband’s last name. I’m a Fashion Designer and I have a fashion studio in the central market of Kabul.”

“Fashion studio?” Manasvi smiled. She had started liking Elizabeth a lot. Such a strong woman. She moved around the city, drove an SUV, owned a Fashion Studio and was empowered enough to help others.

Liz started driving the big SUV vehicle and said, “Don’t look at the chador and the hijab. Beneath that, Afghanis was extremely fashionable. It is an extremely conservative society but women do know how to make the best of their lives. I have some dresses to pick up from my studio. I have to deliver them to a place near your hotel. If you permit…”

“Sure. No problem.” The journalist in Manasvi was intrigued. She had explored so much of Afghanistan that now she wanted to write a story on it. This was a totally different facet and she was curious to know more. Liz took a turn towards central Kabul.

Manasvi checked her phone for any message from Anshuman. Her throat dried. She called Krish who told her that he had been trying every single source to get access to the MEA at New Delhi. But they were not sure if they wanted to take up Anshuman’s case on a national level. They didn’t send him and didn’t want to cut a sorry figure on international level, in case he was linked to insurgent outfits. So they had their own procedure of investigation before they went ahead and asked for his release.
Anshuman’s father also confirmed the same thing. The officials in the ministry had asked them to wait as it was a sensitive issue and they wouldn’t initiate any official request for Anshuman’s release unless they investigated and confirmed that he was innocent.

Manasvi felt her heart sinking. The Indian government had it’s own protocol to follow and that was absolutely justified, giving the threats and insurgency from small groups, they faced on a regular basis. They didn’t want to take a chance by representing someone they didn’t know and was associated with any crime.

Manasvi smiled meekly, looking at Elizabeth. It was a pity that almost everyone she had met knew the problems she was facing. Her phone calls spoke of her issues and she couldn’t avoid them. She had always been vulnerable and insecure but not to this extent.

She called the Chief of the PBB but his number was out of reach. Manasvi called Amanda and Alex, both one by one, and then on conference call, and nearly begged them to get in touch with the Chief. Only he could save Anshuman. He had contacts in Pakistan and he had ensured Anshuman’s visa on the last moment.
Amanda told her that Chief was at some place in Africa and even they weren’t in touch with him. But they will try their best to get in touch with him.

“Please! You can do that. Contact all PBB centers in Africa, or wherever. He needs to be found to save Anshuman.” Manasvi wiped her tear that dropped from her eyes.
“We’ll ensure that Anshuman is released in next 24 hours. We’ll get Chief from wherever he is.”
“Thank you!” Manasvi’s throat choked. She disconnected the phone.

Liz took out tissue-paper box from the dashboard and gave it to Manasvi. Manasvi pulled out a paper to wipe her face, feeling awkward.

“I’m sorry… actually…”
“I understood the issue. Don’t bother explaining about it. It is a regular case in this part of the world.”

Manasvi sighed and leaned at the backrest of the car. The moment life looked promising and hopeful was the one that acted as a turning point for yet another curvy road. It had been years since she had been hoping that finally her life will be on track and she will live happily like everyone else. But problems and hardships only increased.
She felt as if she was in a computer game. One level crossed would lead to another tougher level to beat.

She missed Anshuman a lot. They might not have spent a lot of time with each other. But still it felt that they had always been together. Whether they were around each other or miles apart, he never left her mind even for a second. He lived there and belonged like it was his own space.

………………………..

Junaid Khan knocked at the bars of the cell with the gun in his hand and called Anshuman who was sitting in a corner, with his eyes fixed on the wall facing him.

Anshuman was lost in his thoughts – about life at PBB, how he needed to be back to PBB, because he missed seeing patients, operating on them, helping them – how he missed Manasvi, sorely and deeply, how she was alone in Afghanistan, and he needed to be with her. When he was freed from here, he was going to ask Manasvi to be with him forever. He might have been reluctant once, but now, trapped in this jail he realized what he needed to be peaceful in life – Manasvi, and her happiness. He would do everything she wanted from him. Wherever they went, they would go together. She may choose where she wanted to make a life and he would follow. He had struggled and fought with himself to an extent that he once thought that he didn’t deserve to be happy, didn’t deserve to live, didn’t have any right to spoil her life…but not anymore. He knew that life was precious and how it was important to cherish people you love when you are still able to do that. With a snap of a finger, life takes a sharp turn, leaving you regretting about decisions you didn’t take, things you didn’t do, confessions you didn’t make…

He was so lost that he didn’t notice Junaid. A screeching sound at the bars alarmed him.

Anshuman quickly stood up, hopeful that some breakthrough has happened in his case. He held the bars and asked Junaid. “Some news?”

Junaid sat down on his chair, chewing a gum in his mouth, and with a taut jaw and clenched face, he said, “Two good news and one bad news. What would you want to hear first?”

Anshuman said, “All I am waiting is for some good news. You have two of them. I think bad news can wait. Tell me the good ones.”

Juanid spoke on a grim, tensed face, “We’ve caught the taxi driver who stole your bag. He had your documents, passport, everything.”

Anshuman sighed in relief. With a genuine wide smile, he spoke excitedly, “Thank God! Now you know that I am innocent and I was speaking the truth?”

“Yes. Everything you spoke was true. The other good news is that your Chief just called us an hour back. He confirmed that you are associated with PBB and not a spy. You are a doctor who has worked with PBB for years!”

Anshuman couldn’t stop smiling. He was finally proven genuine. He shrugged, “So? Why am I still behind the bars?”

“That’s the ‘bad news’ part.” Junaid spoke in a low, dejected voice.

“What does that mean?”

“Secretary to the minister has asked me to hold on all proofs of your innocence and not submit them anywhere.”

“But why?”

“We will wait for an official request from government of India to release you.”

……………………………………

 

Anshuman disconnected the call and gave the phone to Junaid Khan, standing near the cell, unintentionally privy to the conversation he had with Manasvi.
He kept standing during the entire conversation because he couldn’t allow a loophole out of an emotional decision and mistakenly let Anshuman to make a call to someone suspicious. It was an important duty to keep a close check on Anshuman even when he had now started trusting Anshuman. He had been benevolent enough to let him make a call to his wife. Now he expected the same from Anshuman to not betray his trust.

Anshuman didn’t let him down. After a genuine call to Manasvi, he returned the phone. Junaid took the phone without speaking anything, at first, and then he subtly smiled. Anshuman smiled too.

Junaid couldn’t curb the inquisitive streak in him. The questions arising in his heart would seem to be natural for anyone in his position. Moreover, he was the ACP. So, he had to ask. He couldn’t stop too.

In quick sentences, one after the other, he bombarded all his questions like cannon balls fired in a row, “Is your wife from Afghanistan? Then, why did she study here, in Karachi? How did you get married to her? Where did you meet her?”

“It’s a long story.” Anshuman sighed.

Junaid tossed his keys on the table and folded his hands across his chest, “I’m not going home. Now, start…”

Anshuman started narrating his story from the point where he was studying medicine in Scotland and had come back home for a holiday. One fine day, he was told that he had to marry Manasvi for the sake of documents. He spoke about his life at PBB and how he mainly stayed out of India for working in disaster struck areas and also about Manasvi’s life, her struggles, the way she build up her life after coming to India and got herself educated, got a job, and couldn’t go to Paris because of the issues with her passport. How she had to go to Afghanistan for her birth certificate and a new passport.
He narrated almost everything.

It was late at night when he was still speaking. Junaid had asked the constable to get tea for them. Stirring sugar in his ginger tea, he asked, “Is she alone right now?”

“Yes.” Anshuman replied.

“I really hope she is fine.”

“I hope so, too.” Anshuman whispered. He could feel his heart pacing faster. He had no choice but to accept her assurance when Manasvi had said that she was safe in a high-end hotel, known for ensuring safety of travellers. But neither his heart trusted it nor his mind. He couldn’t stop worrying for her. She was alone and had no one to help her in case of an emergency. Every now and then, he found himself praying to God to keep her safe.

He requested Junaid to send her the necessary documents – her TC and conduct certificate – on her email, so that she could expedite the process of her passport.

………………

Manasvi woke up early. She hadn’t been sleeping well, anyway. The stress of Anshuman being in captivity had taken away all of her peace. The pressure of being in a new place was nothing as compared to that. She had heard so many negative things about the state of women in Afghanistan that she had been nervous, deep down in her heart.

Thankfully, that fear had been allayed by the trustworthy people she met and connected with, so far. And she was glad that she met a cab driver who was helping her go around so that she was not alone.

She prayed to God, as usual and checked her email. Her inbox had a new email with her documents. Quickly, she got ready and went downstairs to the hotel reception. She requested the staff to get her the print-outs of those documents so that she could submit them as requested by the MEA.

She wrapped her dupatta on her head, held the certificates firmly in her hand, and walked out of the hotel looking for the cab driver who had helped her a day before. He was waiting just near the hotel foyer, a few meters away from the entrance, and immediately came running towards Manasvi when he saw her stepping out of the hotel.

“Madam, the cab is there. I was waiting for you only.”

While Manasvi was deeply touched at his gesture, it confused her too. The driver was too eager to help and more excited and energetic than yesterday. More excited than normal.

Manasvi quietly sat down on the rear seat, feeling distinctly uneasy. Something was different from yesterday. It didn’t feel the same. Something was amiss. She asked the driver to take her to the MEA.

“MEA? Why??” The driver was shocked at the sudden change of plan.

WHY? Ideally, this was none of his business. She was not supposed to give every detail about her movement to a cab driver just because he was helping her. She was miffed at the way he questioned her. It appeared that the driver understood too. He had been taken off-guard so he reacted in that way. Quickly, he composed himself again and changed the tone.

“I mean…didn’t you say yesterday that we will go to the old city and search for an old hospital?”

“I did. But I need to go to MEA urgently, right now.”

“Okay. No problem. I’ll take you there, first.” The driver cleared his throat and tried to appear congenial and nice, all over again.

Manasvi was baffled, why she was feeling weird today. The driver’s body language, the look in his eyes, and the way he was talking to her was surely different from yesterday. She looked out of the window on her side but gave a quick sideward glance to him. The driver had been observing Manasvi through the rearview mirror. After a mile’s drive, he dialled a call and quickly ended it within few seconds, and few words, saying, “Err… the programme is a bit changed… keep it for an hour later… I’ll call you.” After that, he disconnected.

All her life, from a very young age, there was one thing that Manasvi had strongly relied on – her sixth sense and her natural ability to read people. She had nurtured and grown this ability by conscious thoughtfulness and by listening to her instincts.
At all times, without fail.
And today, her instincts said that something was different. And this change was not favourable to her.

She got down at the MEA and told the driver, “You go from here. It will take a lot of time.”

The driver insisted, “It’s okay. I’ll wait.”

Manasvi was now sure that he was behaving a bit fishy. She said, “It might take long.”

“No problem. I’m here. Anyway, you don’t know anyone in this country. I can’t leave you alone.” He was so firm and intimidating that she didn’t say anything after this. She didn’t want him to think that she had doubts on his intentions.

She rode the stairs to MEA, quickly thinking what she was going to do next. On her end, she had practically spent an entire life alone, dealing with stares and filthy, lustful looks of men who thought that every single, lonely female was available for their fancy. Her schooling in Karachi and college, and job in Mumbai was no different. With every man who ever supported and helped her, were a score of men trying to use her, flirt with her, misbehave with her. She had learnt to deal with them and now, she knew that at least she could read through these shameless stares and dirty looks.

She submitted the documents at MEA and met the officer who dealt with the issuance of passports. She explained her urgency and requested for faster approval. The officer told her that the passport was approved and they were waiting for these 2 documents only. She could collect her passport on the next day.

When Manasvi walked out of Ministry of External Affairs, she found the cab driver standing at one corner on the driveway outside the office. He smiled when he looked at her. This time, she could easily sense the scheming eyes and the betrayal behind that smile.

The worse was that this guy knew where she lived and was alone in the country. Manasvi smiled back in response and as she walked towards him, she took out her phone and clicked a full length picture of the man, and a second picture of close up of his face, confusing him. His smile vanished. Before he could ask anything, she smiled sweetly and turned around to click a picture of his car and licence plate number.

She opened her mailbox and sent the 4 pictures as messages to Anshuman, Krish, Azfar Malik, the official number of the Metropolitan hotel, and the officer at MEA whose number she had taken, asking help to be contacted in case of emergency.

The driver was perplexed at what she was doing with his phone. He fumbled with words, “What are you doing? Why are you clicking pictures?”

Manasvi smiled gracefully, without trying to raise her tone, and replied in a soft voice, “I am a journalist. I work with top newspapers and government agencies. Actually, you’ve helped me so much here that I need to save your credentials to feature you in an article, later.”

“No…no…I don’t need…”

Manasvi shrugged, “I’ve already sent the pictures to friends, family, and my husband. They should know who I am with.”

The driver suddenly became defensive, “Listen, don’t think I am…”

Manasvi interrupted him, “Relax! I just came out to say that I am not going anywhere from here. I know someone in the city. He is like a brother to me. His family is coming to pick me up. I’m going to their home for lunch.”

“Brother to you?” The man smirked, “Didn’t you say that you know no one here?”

“No, I didn’t. You assumed.” She raised her chin and turned around to go inside the MEA office. A government office appeared safe at this time.

The man tried to follow her, and spoke bitterly from behind her, “You know no one. You are trying to fool me. But I will wait here. Until the office closes down. Let me see who comes to save you.”

Manasvi was terrified. She paced up her speed and quickly entered the large metal doors with toughened glass shielding a perfectly working office of Ministry from a criminal waiting outside to kidnap her.

She quickly went inside and informed the PA to the Secretary of the External Affairs and asked him to provide police assistance in dealing with this man.

“I’m so so so sorry!” The officer immediately called the police and genuinely apologised to Manasvi for all that she had been facing, “Creepy men like these make us all feel ashamed. I feel embarrassed, it happened with you here.”

Manasvi shook her head to relieve him. She was about to say something when she overheard someone at her back. Another guy at the office, hearing the conversation, commented, “It is your fault. A pretty girl, travelling alone in this country unsafe for unescorted women will definitely attract men. What’s new in that?”

Manasvi sharply turned around and snapped at him, “Excuse me??!!”

The guy shrugged nonchalantly, “Did I say anything wrong?”

Manasvi folded her hands across her chest and asked in firm, stern voice, “What is my fault? Being pretty?? Being alone?? Or the fact that you guys have made it unsafe for women to manage things on their own without being escorted like cattle?”

“Mind your language.”

“I can’t!” Manasvi replied in a stable, calm, and composed voice, “I am a journalist and a writer. I don’t mind my words or language. I speak and write about things I find troubling.”

“This is not your country to change.” The man tried to find some reason in his offensive attitude.

Manasvi shook her head disbelievingly.

“I’m not here to change anything. I’m here to find a place I can call my own.”

………………………….

 

Manasvi was perched on the writing desk in the hotel room, writing down in her diary, and noting down on the notepad of her phone at the same time – all the details she had noted throughout the day – names of people she had met, places, addresses, etc. – lest she would forget.

She made circles around all the important things she had to jot down and wrote her thoughts in points – it helped her sort out her thinking process. What else she needed to find out. And how she was going to proceed further on the following day.

She decided to call Azfar and his family on the following day. His mother had been very kind to her. Manasvi decided to give her a call and visit her in the morning. She was reminded of Anshuman’s mother. The last time, she had talked to her was when she had called Preksha for Anshuman’s pictures. Today, after informing them about Anshuman’s arrest in Karachi, Manasvi knew what Madhu and Preksha must be going through.

She called Madhu and as expected, she found her distraught and dismayed –just like any mother would be. Manasvi was mesmerized by the bond Anshuman shared with everyone he was related to. Especially, his mom.
It was difficult to fathom the love they had for each other. And Madhu loved him more than she loved anyone in their family.

“Manasvi, do you think he will be freed?” Madhu asked her, controlling her tears.

“Yes, ma. I have faith in God. And I have faith in Anshuman’s goodness. His Karma will save him.” Manasvi didn’t know if she said this to relieve Madhu or she really believed that he will be freed.

But she was sure of one thing – Anshuman had never harmed any life or soul in his capacity. He had only worked for the greater good of humanity, without worrying about his patient’s country, religion, region, or faith. For him, humanity was his religion. And she believed that God can never be unkind to someone who follows His true divine path.

She promised Madhu that she will tell her about anything and everything she came to know about Anshuman and keep her informed.

When she disconnected the call, she scrolled the picture gallery for Anshuman’s picture, and saved it as a screensaver on her phone. She ran her fingertips over his face in the picture. He had suffered so much. And he was still going through the worse. She didn’t know how much more he had to bear. But her heart tore down at his misery. She couldn’t stop her tears trickling down before she made herself a promise that she was going to do anything in her might to ease Anshuman’s problems and agony.

This time, he was in serious trouble and she needed to do everything possible to get him freed. The situation was bleak but she had to keep her hopes high. And keep doing the efforts.

While the phone was still in her hand and she was observing Anshuman’s picture as if talking to him, the phone rang. The name read – Anshuman.
She almost jumped in surprise. How was he even allowed to call? She immediately answered the call.

“Hello!”

“Are you fine?” His voice had urgency. It had command. And deep concern. It was obvious that he was terribly worried for her.

She could perceive his state of mind. Instead of beating around the bush, she quickly updated him. “Yeah, I’m absolutely fine. I went to the older parts of the city today and found some crucial information about you. You will not have to dwell in the past, anymore.”

He appeared to be least interested in what she had to share about him. Instead, he shook his head impatiently, closing his eyes for a  moment, and interrupted her, “Wait… wait! Where are you right now?”

She replied calmly, “Anshuman, I’m safe. Inside the hotel. I reached hotel before it was dark. The hotel is comfortable, with all safety measures, and it has staff that takes proper care of solo travellers. I’m well-sheltered here. Secure and protected.”

He heaved a deep sigh of relief, “Thank God! I was dead worried.”

“So am I.” She added softly.

Three simple words from her were more powerful than any verbal confession of love and care. Her voice, her tone, her admission that she was worried about him were more precious than any poetry he had ever heard.

He pressed his lips in, for a short moment, and said, “Don’t be worried about me. I’m sure the Chief will clarify everything tomorrow. I am innocent. I have done nothing wrong. So, I believe that I have nothing to worry about too.”

“I wish life was as simple as that,” Manasvi said, “We know that you are innocent. But we need to prove it to the authorities too. I’ve contacted everyone I could in India. They’ll definitely ensure your release. I promise. Now, I just hope we meet people on other side, who care about the truth.”

“We will.” Anshuman leaned by the bars of the cell. “I will keep believing that people are generally good.”

Manasvi thought for a moment, and then asked, “Does that mean, they are treating you well in custody?”

“Yes. I’m in state custody and they are being fair to me.”

“Did you eat?”

“Yes. I did.”

“I hope they don’t hit you.” She voiced her scariest thought.

He smiled. Her concern for him was adorable. He relieved her, “Don’t worry. They are trying to be humane with me.”

“By the way, I met your nanny today… she is a local lady who took care of you until you were five years old.”

“My nanny?!” He whispered in shock, unable to believe it.

Manasvi couldn’t wait to share with him how comforted and excited she had felt when she dug out his lineage and childhood. Nothing was more important for her than the fact that Anshuman will be able to shed the burden of guilt on his heart and will be able to leave his past behind once he knows who he was and who his parents were. “Yes! And she knows you since your birth. She was a nurse with your mother.”

“Wait! This is…unbeliev…”

She continued, “Your parents were both doctors. They were of Indian origin and were settled in Kabul. Like my parents. They had their own clinic that was attacked one day and you were kidnapped after that.”

He was speechless. This information was too much for him to process. Manasvi had gone ahead and searched for his roots today. He could never do that. Though he had chance to do so. But he didn’t.
This was something he had thought about but never did, fearing the worst outcome. He would have hated to be linked to the extremists and to all the crimes committed by them. He could never sum up the courage to find links to his ancestors. A few years spent in the training camps of extremists were enough of a torture for him and a burden for his soul that he could never get rid off.

Today, Manasvi had taken the leap of faith and removed all clouds of darkness and despair from his heart and mind. Finally, he knew that he was the son of doctors. Not extremists. He belonged to people who heal. Not those who hurt. To people who protect. Not those who attack.

As if a mist was cleared from his world, today. He didn’t remember if he had never asked for anything more than this from the Higher Power, before. But this was much before he knew Manasvi. Since a few days, he didn’t realise, when it happened that some new wishes had taken the place of older ones, even without his consent. Manasvi’s safety and wellbeing meant more than anything else to him.

He spoke in a deep, velvety voice, “You have no idea what you have done for me. You have finally given me a past that I can associate with. A past that signifies respect and dignity. It validates my entire life. I couldn’t breathe in peace thinking that in no way I could wash away my guilt of being with the extremists.”

“Even without this discovery, you have done enough to payback for the crimes you didn’t commit. And no one from your family committed any crimes, either. Still you kept working for people who need you. Sometimes, even risking your own life with that. Whether in army or with PBB, the work you did was beyond noble.”

“And I will continue to do that for my entire life.” He said, in a hope to warn her that she didn’t know what she was getting into.

She stayed quiet for a moment, knowing why he said that. Then, in a low, soft voice, she said, “I’ll never stop you. I’ll be proud of you, in fact.”

He didn’t know how he felt about that. But he knew for sure that her response wouldn’t be any less than this. She was a rare species. It wouldn’t be a surprise if she insisted on accompanying him to all the dangerous locations he went for his job.
He knew that she had learnt to fight adversities and danger. And she could do anything for him. But right now, it was important to protect her.

He asked, “Manasvi, can you do me a favour? Please?”

“Anything you say…”

“The ACP here has got the certificates from your school. I’ve requested him to send their pictures to you. Please get them printed asap and submit them in MEA. Get your passport and leave Afghanistan. Please!” His voice has urgency, all over again. He was nearly panic stricken, worrying about her.

She pressed her lips for a moment, thinking about the next step, and spoke doubtfully, “But I was planning to go to your parents’ nursing home tomorrow.”

He tried hard to suppress his anger, this time. He was about to lose his patience, but he didn’t. He urged in strong words, “My parents are dead, Manasvi! They are not coming back. Yes, I am glad that we found out that they were doctors. I can’t thank you enough for that. But please… please understand that nothing is more important for me than ‘you’…”

She was astounded. And blank. Did he really say that?
She knew she was important for him. But never before he had said it as clearly as he did, today. In no uncertain words, he made it very clear about what was important for him and exactly what he wanted from her.

It was sudden. And given the situation they were in, it was profound as well. He was in captivity himself. But not even once he had asked her what she had done to save him. It was, as if, after informing her, he had left it for her to take care. He knew that she must have done everything she could.

A dreadful pause followed after that. He hated it, for he didn’t know what else to say to dissuade her from continuing her quest. She hated it too, almost praying that he didn’t take back what he just said. It was the first time when he had declared so clearly, in words, how much she meant to him.

She wanted to hold on to this moment. For eternity. Without any frills, or fancy, this one moment was enough for an entire lifetime.

She whispered, “I will do as you say.”

“So, take the certificates to MEA, get the new passport, and off you fly to India – as soon as possible.”

“Done. But… on one promise.”

“Tell me.”

“When you are freed and we meet again in India, we will come back here, meet your nanny and visit your parents’ hospital too. For your closure.”

“Done.”

A tear dropped from her eye, when she asked, “Anshuman, I have a question.”

“What?”

“Will we ever meet?”

“We will.” He spoke resolutely.

She wished she could hold her tears, streaming down her soft cheeks. She spoke on a choked throat. “I’m so scared.”

“Don’t be scared. And please don’t cry. I can’t see my source of strength crumbling down. Stay safe. Stay secure. Nothing will stop me on this side of the border. I’ll meet you in India.”

“Promise me.”

“I promise. Our relationship is beyond every border.”

…………………………

Manasvi took a leave from the women she had met and returned to sit in the cab she had hired from the hotel.

Once she was inside the cab, she started making calls once after the other, to Krish, to Anshuman’s father, RajSingh Shekhawat, to the Chief.
The Chief’s phone was out of the coverage area.
Krish informed her that he was in touch with Mr. Mehta and he had assured that he would use his contacts to know more about Anshuman. He would inform her as soon as they were able to get a breakthrough.
Anshuman’s father said the same. He had approached the Ministry of External Affairs in New Delhi and were waiting for an appointment with the secretary to the External Affairs Minister. The office had assured them that they would soon do something about Anshuman.

Manasvi was not relieved. She had waited for an hour till she was talking to Anshuman’s nanny and her sister so that the people in India had enough time to reach the authorities. But nothing had happened as of now.
Was one hour less time to take an action? Should she wait more?
Her mind said that she should give people time to take a concrete action. But how could she explain the same to her heart? That rammed frantically in her chest, worrying about Anshuman, whether he was fine, if he ate something, or whether he was  being treated well…

She called the Chief again. The Chief was still out of reach. She knew that he was the only person who could immediately help Anshuman because he was the one to arrange visa for him at the last moment for urgent travel to Pakistan. That meant that he had contacts in the Government offices in Pakistan too. He could influence them to release Anshuman. But unfortunately, he was unreachable.

Manasvi tapped the seat of the cab, pressing her lips, thinking    trying to think of how to contact the Chief –Franco Martin. Should she go to the PBB website and try to find a way to connect with Anshuman’s friends and the Chief? Should she send an SOS message to PBB headquarters?

Suddenly, Manasvi remembered that Anshuman had once told her that he might be out of reach on phone for several days as they were supposed to travel to far-off places. However, his colleagues and he, all of them, surely checked their emails. She quickly opened her gmail mailbox to locate the email where Anshuman had forwarded his last posting details to her. Praying desperately to God, she opened that email.
Almost as a stroke of luck, she found the official email id’s of his colleagues, all email ids, in one single mail. Probably, the duty roster for the last posting was sent to ‘all’ and it included the names and email id’s of Amanda, Alex, Anshuman’s other doctor friends, and the Chief, Franco Martin, as well.

Manasvi thanked God and quickly typed an email with trembling hands –

‘Anshuman is in trouble.
He has lost his passport and travel documents in Karachi, Pakistan.
He has been under arrest there.
Please help.’

She forwarded the same email to all of his group at PBB, trying her best to keep her racing heartbeats to a normal pace. The cab driver safely took her back to the hotel, without asking anything about her situation or disturbing her. He knew the hotel she was staying at, and now he had begun to understand her problem too.

When the driver dropped Manasvi to the hotel, she stepped down and paid him the fare. He asked, “Do you want me to come tomorrow, as well?”

Manasvi looked at him gratefully and asked, “Can you come?”

He smiled warmly and said, “Of course! I see that you are alone and need someone here. It won’t be safe to go around with a new person every day. You never know who meets you at the end of the day.” The man spoke responsibly.

Deeply thankful for this gesture, Manasvi sighed, “I was thinking the same. I hope, it is not too much of a trouble for you?”

“Never mind. It’ll be my pleasure to help you.”

Manasvi thanked him again and asked him to be there on the following day in the morning, at around 10:00 am. The cab driver promised her to be there on the next morning and left after greeting her.

Manasvi went inside the hotel. It was already late and she felt drained. So, she headed directly to her room after asking the lady at the reception to send dinner to her room.

The cab driver called someone, while driving back, from the hotel.

“Hello!” The gruff voice on the other end answered the call.

“There is a woman. From India. On some weird mission. Looks like, she is searching for something. About someone.”

“Alone?”

“Yes, all alone.”

“Good! Bring her, then.”

“Tell me, how much you will pay?”

“We will decide about that later. Let’s meet her first!”

“No. You tell me how much. And then only I will bring her.”

“Don’t act smart!” The voice growled.

“Think about it. I have few more contacts. If it’s a ‘no’ from you, I will make a deal with someone else.”

The guy at the other end, calmed down, “Okay. Give me time. I’ll talk to the boss and call you.”

The phone was disconnected. The cab driver began to mull over exactly how much money he was going to ask from the man belonging to the underworld in exchange for Manasvi.

…………………………….

Oblivious to the sinister plan against her, Manasvi prayed to God for sending people to help her and be with her in this difficult phase. She ate dinner and settled by the slab near the window in her room. Observing the setting sun and the view of the desert till eyes could see. The desert was so beautiful and yet so depressing. So warm and yet so frightening.
Since childhood, she had been afraid of the deserts.
She was scared of being swallowed by the vastness and the terrifying expanse of the territory. As if it was going to engulf her, drown her, bury her…
She had walked for an entire day to cross this desert in the darkest hours of the night, when she was only twelve years old. At that time, she had known that the desert was familiar to none. It was no one’s friend. It didn’t help or support anybody in his journey.
It only mislead.

She knew that she had been terribly tired. And disoriented. Still, she didn’t want to sleep. She was worried. It had been a weird day. On the one hand, she had found a link to Anshuman’s past. On the other, Anshuman was in deep trouble and she was unable to help him.

Why did he even go there for her? She would have managed, somehow! How was she going to forgive herself, if, God forbid, something happened to him?!

She wished she could talk to him, once… Only once.

………………………………………

A cyber-cell expert arrived to meet ACP Junaid Khan. He placed a printed excel sheet on Junaid’s table and spread it, explaining the details to him.

“These are the details of the last few calls made from his phone. One to the Chief of PBB, whom we are trying to contact. And 2-3 calls to the number he called last. The number belongs to some Manasvi Rathore from Mumbai. But surprisingly, the calls are being currently diverted to Kabul.”

“His wife?” Junaid asked.

“Seems like that. He said the same name. None of the calls seem suspicious.”

“Thank you!” Junaid nodded and waited for more reports to follow.

The next was the SI who had gone to Manasvi’s school which Anshuman had named. He handed over Manasvi’s TC in duplicate and conduct certificate to ACP.

“Yes. You are right. She is his wife, the one he was talking about, it seems. He is saying the truth that she studied in Karachi up to senior secondary level. He had come here for these certificates.”

ACP examined the certificates keenly – They were named ‘Manasvi Rathore’ and the school name was clearly written in bold – Sindh Government School, Karachi. He collected them along with the excel sheet of call records and kept every documen in a folder before him. Next, he received a call from the police officer sent to the airport who confirmed that a man named Dr. Anshuman Shekhawat had arrived from Abu Dhabi on the same morning. He had hired a cab from the Prepaid taxi service and his signatures were in the booking register. The location was near the one where he was arrested. He also had tickets booked for the same night to go to Kabul.

Junaid made a detailed summary of all that he had received as information during the investigation and after thorough search of Anshuman. His statement and call records were assimilated with the report. Finally, he called his senior officer, “Sir, it looks like it’s a genuine case and this man is not likely to be a threat. He lost his documents when he arrived for a valid cause and has now landed in a soup.”

“Did you get in touch with the organisation he is working for? What is its name?”

“PBB.” Junaid replied leaning by his desk.

“Yeah, that one… did you get in touch with them?”

“No. The Chief who arranged for his visa and travel documents is out of reach, as of now! We are waiting for a call from him. We have left messages for him. Though, it seems irrelevant now.”

“Nothing is irrelevant, Junaid. Don’t be in a hurry to wind up the case, like you always do. Learn to hold things until you are doubly sure. Okay??”

“Okay, sir!” Junaid rolled his eyes, not really agreeing with the approach of wait and watch. He was someone who was known for wrapping investigations faster. At the same time, he was staunchly honest and uncorrupted. So, he was one name to be trusted in crucial cases. Every convoluted case was handed to him because his presence assured that there won’t be any lapses.

The Officer left a huge breath, “Great! Now, wait for that Chief’s call and then we will decide what to do. Right?”

“Sure, sir!”

Junaid disconnected the call, deep down, feeling confused and uncomfortable about holding Anshuman in the lockup, even after he was nearly proved to be innocent. He turned to Anshuman’s cell and said, “I’m afraid we can’t do much about you… Not right now… unless we receive a call from your chief…”

“But… you do know that I’m innocent?” Anshuman asked, hopefully.

Junaid nodded and said, “Almost! The preliminary investigation says that what you spoke was correct. But you need to understand that it is a sensitive issue. We need to be sure.”

Anshuman sighed and shook his head, side to side, and replied, “I trust you.”

Junaid shrugged cluelessly and said, “Just for tonight, you’ll have to keep patience and spend the night in this lockup. We’ll do something tomorrow.”

Having said that, Junaid turned around to walk out of the police headquarters. Half of his staff had already left. The cops on night duty had started arriving. Anshuman called Junaid when he turned around.

“Can I make a request, ACP?” Anshuman asked.

Junaid stopped and smiled as he turned around. “You know, what… I know already, what it is going to be…”

“Do you?” Anshuman lifted a brow, skeptical about it.

“I guess so… Your wife is in Afghanistan, right? You are worried for her. Right?”

“If I can talk for 1 minute…only once…” Anshuman hesitated.

Junaid slowly walked ahead, looking directly at Anshuman as if he was angry, so as to not attract any undue attention from his staff. When he reached sufficiently near the bars of the cell, he took out Anshuman’s phone from his denim pocket and slipped it from between the bars to gave it to him. Softly, he said –

“Only once!”

……………………………………

Anshuman was kept in a dark cell, where only a small window almost touching the ceiling, allowed faint light from the street lamp. The police headquarters located in the central part of Karachi had four such cells. All were full of criminals nabbed for different crimes.

Thankfully, Anshuman was not kept with any other culprit. He was kept separately. And was in the direct scrutiny of the ACP who had brought him to the headquarters.

The row of officials reporting to the ACP, called him one after the other with all the details he had asked for.

The ACP— (I’ve always had his face in my mind, when I am writing about the ACP. I’ve been a big fan of Humayun Saeed)

 

The ACP opened the lockup and asked Anshuman to accompany him.

“Where are we going?” Anshuman asked, feeling suspicious when asked to accompany him towards outside.

“To the hospital! The doctor feels that for the full body check-up, you should be at the hospital.”

He clutched his wrists in steel handcuffs. Anshuman sighed deeply and said, “I won’t run away.”

“We can’t take any risk.”

Anshuman had a irked, sly smile on his lips, when he asked, “Where will I go without a passport or any documents?”

The ACP smirked but didn’t reply to his question. Obviously, he wasn’t going to tell Anshuman how people crossed borders without any visa or passport. Not every visitor was a friendly one who arrived through an official route of procuring legal documents. According to him, if Anshuman was a spy, he would already know about that route. If he was not, he didn’t need to know.

They reached the Government Hospital. The HOD of the General Medicine department examined Anshuman and talked to him about his injuries in medical lingo. He talked to him about his work and Anshuman spoke about everything honestly, in detail, about his posting in army, and then at PBB.
An orthopaedic surgeon was called to examine his knee and his ankle. Another row of tests were conducted for his blood group, infective phase of deadly diseases, like HIV and Hepatitis C and then, he was sent for radiography and CT scan.

Finally, the doctor wrote the findings in his detailed report. Giving his report to the ACP, he said, “I strongly feel that he is a genuine case of lost documents. He is a doctor, there is no doubt about that. He works for PBB since almost five years, now. It isn’t easy to work selflessly for an organisation like PBB. Also, it is true that he might be in the army previously but he is speaking the truth – he was severely injured and hence relieved from the army.”

“Thank you, doctor!” The ACP took a leave and joined Anshuman who was waiting in the doctor’s room.

“Let’s go!” The ACP said.

Anshuman stood up and accompanied the ACP towards his jeep. Feeling dejected and losing hope, with every passing moment. The more they investigated about him, talked to senior officials, managed to take him tearing across suspicious eyes, and the crowd of media around the hospital or the police HQ, the more he drowned in despair. He had so many stories of people caught as spies, never to be released, caught in legal battles lasting years, that he saw himself in that situation, already.

When he locked him again, the ACP asked, “You look famished. What will you eat? Any preferences?”

Anshuman looked at him as if he was talking in Greek. When his look was responded by an eyebrow lift, Anshuman asked, “Really? You asking me about food preferences when I can barely breathe in this cell.”

“Why? Is it suffocating?” The ACP asked.

“Trust me, I have been trapped in rabbit-hole bunkers for hours. The size is not an issue. It’s the situation that I am in. Right now.”

“I understand.” The ACP said. “But we have been ordered from the higher authorities to take care of you. What do you eat?”

“Anything.” Anshuman shrugged.

“Nothing specific? I’ve heard Indians have all sorts of food fuss.” He smirked.

Anshuman rolled his eyes, absolutely rejecting his mockery, “I agree that we have a big population who is vegetarian, and a lot of non-vegetarians have strict choices. But that doesn’t give you any right to mock us.”

“As if you guys don’t!” The ACP turned away to order food for Anshuman.

Anshuman knew that there was no point in fighting for this issue. They were not friends. And they were not in an equal position. One was in captivity of the other. An argument would only lead to bitterness. So he stayed quiet after that.

He had been in several countries for his humanitarian work. He had treated his patients similarly, no matter where they belonged to.

And for him, borders didn’t exist.

……………………………………

Manasvi met the older lady who had arrived at her sister’s house when her grandson informed her that a girl had arrived to consult her.

The older woman corrected her spectacles over her long pretty nose. Her sharp eyes, her complexion, her smooth skin said that she must be gorgeous in her haydays. Even now, at the age of sixty-five years, she looked beaming beautiful.

Looking at Anshuman’s picture when he was around eleven years old, she held it closely and keenly. After a long moment, she asked, “Was this boy kidnapped?”

“Yes! Yes!!” Manasvi held her hand and asked, “Do you know him?”

“Can’t say for sure. But if he is the boy that I am thinking he is… then, I knew him very well. I took care of him when he was very young… around 5 years of age.”

“Then, how did you recognise him?”

“He looks quite similar to his father – Dr. Dinesh Sankhla. Do you have any picture of him of how he looks now?” The lady asked.

“Yes.” Manasvi scrolled her phone for Anshuman’s pictures that she had clicked in Jalalabad camp, secretively, at times when she had found him quietly examining patients, giving them instructions, even operating.

The older woman couldn’t stop her tears, “He is Anshuman, right? Mashallah, he has grown up to be so handsome and so tall… he looks exactly like his father.”

“You remember something about him or his family?”

“Everything! I remember everything. I was the nurse when his mother delivered him. I was the first one to take him in my arms. How can I forget him? I took care of him when he was too young… almost till he was 5 years of age. Then, one day his parents were killed in an attack on their hospital…”

“Hospital?”

“Yes. Both of them, his mother and father, were doctors in a polyclinic of the neighbourhood.”

“They were killed?”

“Yes. I heard the news on TV and from people that it was a brutal attack. I was on leave during those days. I was not keeping well. I just remember that doctor ma’am and sir were killed and their son Anshuman kidnapped.”

“That is why he remembered his name?” Manasvi wondered aloud, “He was old enough.”

“Was he brought up by the extremists? They must have been very cruel?” The lady asked with tears in her eyes.

Manasvi nodded, “Yes, but he was rescued by an Indian officer who was posted here. At that time, he didn’t remember anything about his parents or family. So, he facilitated his travel to India and was adopted by an army officer in India.”

“Thank God! I keep feeling guilty that I wasn’t with him that day so he had gone to the hospital with his mother and was kidnapped from there. I keep cursing myself that I was responsible.”

“Please stop feeling like that. It was none of your fault. And you will be happy to know that he is a doctor now. He works across different countries to help people facing disasters.”

“May God bless him. Where is he?” The lady asked, wiping her eyes with her white dupatta, “Can I meet him?”

Manasvi was reminded of Anshuman and that he was in a terrible state, right now. She wished she could tell him that she had found a link to his childhood. But first she had to ensure that he was freed from the problem that he had gotten himself into, for her.

“I have no idea how to thank you!” Manasvi thanked the woman and stood up. Something about this lady tugged at her heart. She wished she had someone who had been with her in her childhood, so that she could hug her and revisit the shadowed memories of her childhood and her lost parents. She asked, “Can I hug you?”

The older woman pulled her in a hug and blessed her. When she separated, she held her hand and squeezed it, requesting Manasvi, “Can you bring Anshuman here? For once? I want to meet him.”

Manasvi nodded, barely able to contain her tears, “Yes, I would.”

“How do you know him? And why are you searching links about him?”

“I am his wife. I will tell you more about him on my next visit. I need you. But right now, I have to go. Anshuman is in trouble.”

“May God bless you both. And do come back. I live in the lane behind this house.”

Manasvi thanked both the females who had been more like her own grandparents. Their relatives came out from inside. A son and a daughter-in-law with their kids. They offered food and tea to Manasvi. She refused as she had to leave but she promised them that she will return soon.

There was so much that she had to know and she knew that she was on the right track.

…………………………………………….

Anshuman was served food and coffee in the cell. While the ACP sat in his chair and observed him keenly.

Anshuman felt awkward eating alone. He asked, “Won’t you eat?”

The ACP smiled, “That’s not a luxury an officer on duty can afford.”

“I know!” Anshuman smiled too, “Reminds me of emergency surgeries, back to back. There is not even a thought of food in that time.”

“You know, once I was injured while chasing a criminal a few years back. I had hurt my spine badly. Only after 6 surgeries, I was able to walk. I will always be thankful to my orthopaedic surgeon for he gave me my life back. I deeply respect your profession.”

“Thank you! Very few people do that.”

“Because a few people of your profession tarnish the reputation for everyone else.”

Anshuman nodded, and added, “The same can be said about people in your profession!”

The ACP shrugged, “It happens everywhere, I guess. Good people are always more in number than the filthy ones, but suffer more because of their dirty counterparts. Probably because they are quietly doing their work while the ugly ones are creating all the noise.”

Anshuman looked at him seriously and said, “I think you are right, ACP.”

“You can call me Junaid Khan.”

“Tell me, one thing ACP Khan, if you don’t mind…”

“What?”

“Do you believe me when I say that I am innocent and I was not spying?”

Junaid Khan shrugged nonchalantly and said, “It really doesn’t matter what I believe in. You will be evaluated according to facts, data, and proofs for and against you. We are thoroughly investigating your case!”

“Then, I have another question… Can I expect fairness in the trial?”

“Yes! That I can promise you. I don’t believe in vilifying people for no fault of their’s.”

“Thank you!”

“In all fairness, we are humans only. Even God helps those who are honest.”

……………………………

The ACP kept looking at Anshuman while he finished his call within the time limit set for him. 60 seconds.

Anshuman handed back his phone to the officer and muttered a humble – ‘Shukriya!’

The officer didn’t reply to him and walked away with his phone. Anshuman walked back to pace around the cell, hoping for Manasvi to get in touch with his Chief and others to get help for him.

The sub-inspector of the police station asked the ACP, “Sir, why did you allow him to make a call. Maybe he called his associates and sent a coded signal. How can we trust him?”

The ACP replied, “We can’t! That is why I allowed him a call. He hasn’t confessed to any spying or illegal activity. And we haven’t found any spying device, camera, mic, papers, maps with him. We can’t let him go free. Now, contact your experts and find out where did he call and to whom? I want all the details within 2 hours.”

The SI saluted him and went inside the other room to prepare a report about the last few calls history and particularly this call that he had made saying that he had called his wife. He called the experts and asked them to be there within few minutes.

The ACP returned and sat on the officer’s chair, observing Anshuman keenly. Anshuman had been pacing around the small cell. He found the officer observing him and saw a glint of hope in his glance. He returned back to the bars and tried to convince me, “Trust me, officer. I am here for my wife’s documents from her school. I have been to several countries before because I am a doctor working for PBB. I am deeply dedicated to my work. Nothing else.”

The ACP nodded with a toughened look on his face, “We’ll find that out. And you should really pray that your story is proved correct. Or else, you have no idea what we will do to you. You should be scared of that.”

Anshuman shrugged and chewed his lower lip, with a sigh, “I don’t need to be scared. Because my story is true. I haven’t done anything that makes me an offender in this land. So, I really hope that I will be treated well.”

ACP gave him a sarcastic smirk and pulled out his gun from the case before putting it on the table after a slight tap here and there, mainly to threaten Anshuman. Anshuman found the gesture meaningless because he knew that it was threatening him and he wasn’t threatened at all. The officer received a call from another officer and after a serious conversation of five minutes, he disconnected the call.

Then he turned towards Anshuman and said, “We ran a reverse search of your photograph and the initial reports say that you are employed with Indian army.”

Anshuman never knew that a brief history of service in the army will go against him. He refuted vehemently, “No…no… I ‘was’ once with our army. Not anymore.”

The ACP was suddenly very angry. He yelled, “Do you think you can fool us here? You are no more with the army because they recruited you with RAW for spying… right?”

Anshuman heaved a huge sigh, and replied calmly, “No. I am no more with the army because I have a broken knee and a broken ankle. And I have only one kidney because I was hurt in an attack. I was fighting for my life and when I recovered I was not fit for the army job anymore. In any case, I was not a soldier at any time of my life. I was a doctor then. I am a doctor now.”

The ACP mellowed down. He eyed Anshuman suspiciously and said, “Are you speaking the truth?”

“Each word I have spoken to you ‘is’ only the truth.” Anshuman spoke on a taut jaw.

“Call the doctor.” ACP turned sideways and ordered the constable standing behind him. Then he turned to Anshuman and said, “We’ll get you examined. I hope you don’t mind.”

Anshuman replied calmly, “Of course not! Why would I? Please call your doctor.”

The ACP asked the Inspector, SI and other juniors to make a detailed report of all the findings and send them to him on the mail as well as record them in a physical file.

He had been receiving one phone call after the other. Some from his senior officials who wanted to know about the progress of the case. It was a very important issue right now. It concerned safety issues. And the more news spread, more pressure was created on each one of them.
Some calls were made from the media houses to know the smallest of details. Some media houses had hi-profile connections and they created a pressure over the officers to give news-bytes for TV channels so that they could turn it into a TRP driven exercise. The reporters pressed hard for an interview. The media was already interviewing the crowd outside the store where Anshuman was arrested, people from the market who saw him, and the crowd outside the police station who had collected to see the Indian spy caught in their area. The ACP tried to dodge all media calls, strictly refused any bytes and interviews, and was getting annoyed by the interference now.
Next, he received a call from the secretary of state at Home Affairs. He wanted to know the minute-by-minute detail of what was going on and how they were proceeding with the interrogation and investigation. The ACP gave the details to the Government officer and called his own officils again.
The Police Officials ordered him to shift Anshuman to the police headquarters in Karachi under strict security. It wasn’t safe to keep him locked up in a small police station fearing a mob attack at night.

The ACP asked the digital experts, the doctor, and the phone call tracking experts to report to the headquarters and moved Anshuman out of the police station. He drove Anshuman himself to the police headquarters, where another crowd of public and media was waiting to create a ruckus on this issue. Everyone wanted to know what was going on, who was he, how was he caught, what did he want, and how their Government was going to deal with this issue. Suddenly a lot of curiosity was created in both common public and officials responsible for safeguarding national interest.

The sight of the growing crowd, the media with photographers and hundreds of mics, the tight security and the chaos made Anshuman’s heart sink. This was growing out of proportion. Something that he had not expected. This also meant that with every turn of the needles of the clock, it will keep getting tougher to be free from here.

His only hope, now, was Manasvi.

…………………………………..

The moment Manasvi disconnected the call from Anshuman, she began connecting calls to everyone she knew and who could help them – his Chief, Amanda, Alex, Anshuman’s father, and Krish.

Anshuman’s father, Raj Singh Shekhawat, was shocked to know about him as he had no idea how Anshuman landed in the neighbouring country. He became panic ridden but he assured Manasvi that he will try to find some contacts at the Home Ministry and Ministry of External Affairs to help and get Anshuman acquitted at the earliest.

Krish was worried too. He assured her that he will talk to Mr. Mehta and find out if they could do something about the issue.

The Chief couldn’t be contacted as he was travelling. So were Amanda and Alex. Manasvi left a voice message in their phone inboxes informing them about Anshuman’s situation. She requested them to call her as soon as they received the message.

She could feel her hands and feet getting cold and numb, and her lips getting dried. Her heart sank to the deepest crevices of her fears. She couldn’t swallow her saliva or breathe normally, anymore. As if her life was trapped out of her, somewhere out of her body, and her lifeless form that remained with her couldn’t bear the  tussle to join the missing part. A vague fear of impending doom was beginning to consume her. She felt like a caged bird flapping her wings furiously to be free.

Her first instinct was to go back to the hotel. But what would she do alone in the hotel, except fretting and worrying about things out of her control. Now that she had come this far, she decided to go ahead and talk to the women that she had been directed to by the locals. This was another way to keep her mind occupied while people she had contacted sought help.

She knocked at the door. Someone asked her to step in. She scrolled her phone to find the picture sent by Preksha and entered the courtyard of a small house with walls needing maintenance and some paint work. An elderly woman of around 80 years was sitting on the cot in the verandah, sieving rice grains and cleaning them. Manasvi stepped ahead after taking permission from the lady and greeted her. Then she showed her the picture and asked her if she knew about this boy who was kidnapped years ago.

The woman examined the face keenly and nodded to refuse. “Though I live here for years but I don’t remember this boy. But my sister might have a clue. She was a teacher in the primary school in this area and worked as nanny for several families. She has a good memory too. Maybe she can guide you more about how you will find more details.”

“Please tell me how to meet her.” Manasvi asked.

“Wait here. I’ll send someone to call her. She lives in a lane behind this one.” Then the old woman asked a young boy of around 7 – 8 years to run and call his grandmother. The boy ran towards the back lane, while Manasvi was asked to sit and offered water. She sat down on the cot beside the woman, worrying about Anshuman. Each moment passed like a stab at her heart. With so many uneasy, dreadful thoughts crossing her mind despite her best efforts to shun them away. Her head pained and a few tears rolled down on her cheeks. Manasvi buried her face in her palms, trying to avoid a display of emotions before the older granny. The woman placed a hand over Manasvi’s hair and stroked it warmly.

“Lost something?” The woman asked compassionately, in a warm considerate tone.

“Everything, I had!”

……………………………………………….

 

 

Apologies for posting late. love you all. Take care. Stay blessed. 

……………………………………….

Anshuman was escorted to the nearest police station in the central old city of Karachi under a stringent security arrangement. He could feel the tension in the atmosphere. But speaking anything felt useless. They were not going to believe him, he knew by instinct.

He was made to sit on a chair and asked to wait till a senior official arrived. The crowd of onlookers grew as the word spread that a man of Indian origin was arrested for spying and he was without any documents needed to be in the city.

The crowd began to gather outside the police station but the cops restricted them outside the police station.

Anshuman asked the police inspector, “Can I have my phone, please? I need to make a call.”

“Sorry!” The officer nodded and refused in a stern tone. He was busy scribbling the entry in the register to present his report of the concerned arrest.

Anshuman nodded to agree and shifted back in his chair. He raised one leg to take his knee over the other and settled his elbow at the arm rest before burying his right cheek on the folded hand of right hand. He could sense the growing gravity of the situation. If something happened to his phone and he was not able to prove his innocence, there was no way he could get out from this situation. He had heard stories of how people of questionable identity detained as spies spent years in the jail with no one to help them.

He decided to stay hopeful and wait for the senior official who was about to arrive to interrogate him. The situation appeared bleak, for now.

The worst was the nagging feeling constantly troubling him that Manasvi was in Kabul. What was she going to do there all by herself? How was she going to manage? Was she fine?

The sinking feeling grew deeper and he realised that he was less worried about himself, more about her. He chewed the inner skin of his lower lip, trying to fight the growing urge to do something to help her. If only, he could talk to her, only for once.

He was distracted at the sound of boots outside the police station. The ASI and the SI stood up and greeted the Assistant Commisioner of Police (ACP) who had arrived to interrogate Anshuman.

The ACP looked a tough man, with hardened looks and straight posture. He went straight to Anshuman and observed him keenly for a long minute, his eyes boring into Anshuman’s eyes and his facial muscles getting taut with every passing second.

Then, he leaned his rear at the desk facing Anshuman’s chair and said, “Okay! Start!”

Anshuman shrugged, “What?”

“Start speaking!” The ACP nearly barked, “Who are you? What are you doing here? Where are your passport and identity cards? Which agency are you reporting to?”

Anshuman took a deep breath and said, “I’m not reporting to any agency. I am a doctor and I’m here to collect conduct certificate from my wife’s school as she had studied in Karachi.”

The officer stretched his hand towards him and asked, “Show me. Where is the certificate?”

“I couldn’t reach the school. I came by morning flight and the autorickshaw driver fled with my bag. My wallet, my passport, and all papers were in that bag.”

“Why didn’t you inform the police?” The man narrowed his eyes and stared at Anshuman.

“I was going to do that but my phone battery was low and I thought that I will call my Chief and my colleagues to help me reach people in the ministry.”

“Start again! In detail, this time!” The officer yelled at the top of his voice.

Anshuman patiently explained about himself, his post at PBB, how he reached there, where his bag was stolen, and what exactly was his purpose of visiting Karachi. He was asked again and again and again… and every time, he spoke the same things… he was asked about his country, his family, his friends, even his schooling, which Anshuman deliberately avoided speaking about. But rest of the story, he recited the same every time. So many times, they asked. Shouted and yelled at him. But Anshuman stayed strong and stable.

The ACP smirked, “Do you think that we’ll believe this story?”

“Well, you should! Because that is the only story that I have!”

“That, you think. But we don’t. A lot of people change stories and versions when we take them to the torture cell. Don’t worry, we are not in a hurry. We cut each body part very calmly.” Spoke the ACP in a mysterious tone, gauging Anshuman’s response to this gory detail of what was going to happen to him if he didn’t speak.

Not a muscle flinched on Anshuman’s face. He was as calm as before. He raised a brow, “You are scaring me. All policemen do that.”

ACP leaned ahead and spoke in measured words, one word at a time, chewing each word, “All policemen don’t mean what they say. But trust me – many, many –do! Don’t force me to do that.”

Anshuman sat straight in his chair and said, “Can I please have my phone?”

“No!” The man roared. He was trying his best to intimidate Anshuman who was genuinely trying to prove himself. It was an old tactic to threaten the enemy and get him to speak the secrets.

Anshuman spread his hands in air and asked, “Then how will I prove my innocence? Trust me, I have nothing to hide. They have checked me thoroughly. I have no snooping devices on my body.”

“You will not get your phone. We can’t risk getting any sensitive information deleted if we do that. An expert is examining your phone.”

Anshuman nodded as if understanding their position. He replied like a senior doctor would talk to an officer who was just doing his duty, “Okay! Listen, I get it. I can understand how it goes. So, I can’t have my phone, but you can! Right?”

“What does that mean?” The officer tilted his head.

“Please, do me a favour. You can access my phone.  I can give you a few numbers. Talk to them and they will tell you that I am a doctor working with an organization called People Beyond Borders. I have just finished a posting in Kabul. I travel from one country to another, to serve at disaster hit areas. I am not a spy.”

“It’s a bogus story. You won’t say the truth easily, it seems!” The ACP roared again.

“There is no harm in investigating, right?” Anshuman said, “There is no point in shouting, threatening, or even beating me as I will still say the same. That’s the truth.”

“What if everything turns out to be false?” The ACP moved around to ask the gadget expert for Anshuman’s phone.

This looked a little hopeful to Anshuman. At least the officer had paid heed to his request and went to get the phone. Anshuman smiled and said, “What if everything turns out to be true?”

The man asked him to write all the numbers and names on a piece of paper with the names of people he wanted to be contacted. Anshuman wrote as he was asked and then sent to the custody.

The officer said, “We are not going to call up these people because of course, why won’t it be any set up. We are not fools to believe anyone over a phone call. We will carry out our own investigation.

“But that’s going to take time.” Anshuman expressed his doubt.

“Yes! Be our guest till then.” The ACP sniggered as the guard locked the door of the lock up.

Anshuman was getting worried now, “But how will they know that I am stuck here? They need to be informed. Please.”

The ACP shrugged and turned around to leave when Anshuman called him again, “Officer… Sir… Can I make a personal request? Please? For the sake of humanity can you please do one favour?”

The guy turned around and shrugged, “What?”

“My wife knows that I am in Karachi. If she tries to call me and I am not available, she will get worried. I don’t want her to freak out. She is in Kabul. Can you please tell her that I am fine?”

The ACP looked at him for a long moment and returned to him to stand right before him. After giving him a long look, he extended his hand towards Anshuman. It had his phone. The officer said in a grave voice, “Just one call. To your wife. Only 60 seconds.”

Anshuman sighed in relief. With a smile, he whispered, “Thank you!”

………………………..

Manasvi walked into the old, dilapidated locality which once belonged to her community in Kabul.

Each step in the dusty lanes of the neighbourhood brought her eerily closer to her roots. The broken, now degenerated houses were strangely not restored even to this day. They were simply left as it is. She had thought that she was over that phase of her life. But she was wrong. The steps she took inside the tatters of the once prosperous area broke her heart all over again. It appeared as if she was meeting her parents for one more time. Maybe for one last time. Maybe she needed the closure as much as Anshuman.

She had never said a proper goodbye to this place. This was her chance of being here and then calmly leaving this place after a peaceful farewell, to move on forever. She was glad that she stayed back and came here. She never knew that she needed it. She ran her fingers at the walls of the houses. Her heart sank as it was unbelievable to her that she could still remember those days as vividly as it had all happened just yesterday.

She sat down before a house, at the stairs at the doorstep, for it was the most beautiful house of the neighbourhood, located at the corner and hence accessible from all roads. It was hard to forget this house. The most magnificent house at that time. Afterall, her father was a jeweller. She didn’t have the heart to go inside. She just sat at the doorstep and buried her face in her palms to cry her heart out.

After spending some time there, she stood up. There was no point in going inside. She knew that there must be nothing inside, no memories, no last belongings of her parents as it was broken, destroyed and open for years. Animals, owls and bats lived there.

She crossed the road and once the small locality ended, she reached another neighbourhood where she could see people roaming around. She went to them and asked them if anyone knew people from the destroyed locality or anything about what had happened around 13 years ago. The people, who were mostly young adults expressed ignorance. They looked at each other and then at Manasvi, as her questions were unexpected and weird. Not getting any breakthrough, she asked about the nearest police station.

At the police station, she took out her phone and opened a picture of Anshuman’s childhood. The evening before, she had called Preksha to send her on mail, the earliest picture of Anshuman that they had with them. It was possibly from the time when he had come to their home after being rescued.

Manasvi showed the picture to the cops and asked the officers if they knew anything about kids kidnapped at that time. Or any kids arrested with the extremist group. As Anshuman had described about the place where he was kept and trained with the extremists’ group, it didn’t appear far from the place where they had attacked, ie their surrounding area. There were high chances that he was kidnapped from the area nearby.

The officers nodded to refuse. They said that they had frequent transfers and so they didn’t know much about that area. The records were not well maintained from that time and they couldn’t help her much.

Disappointed Manasvi walked out. She was upset but she didn’t lose hope. She had faith on her years spent in journalism. She knew that she should keep her quest going on, as sometimes what you are looking for is just around you and you are unable to see. You only have to look harder.

But why did he never try to find it himself. He could have come here and searched for his parents and about his history. She wondered.

Maybe he was too traumatised to visit that painful past? Maybe he never wanted to? It scared him and made him feel weak? And Anshuman hated to feel weak. He believes himself to be strong. Maybe he didn’t want to dig the old skeletons. Possibly! She shrugged and moved on.

She walked towards the interiors of the immediately neighbouring locality, with similar houses but still cared for. It was sparsely populated even now and had few men sitting out on cots, and kids playing around. Manasvi reached upto a few people and asked them if she could meet anyone who was there for past 15-16 years in that place.

Finally, she was told about a few women who were living there since ages. Heaving a sigh of relief and hoping that she would meet someone who could give her a clue into the past, she reached their houses and asked the relatives if she could meet one of the old woman.

Her phone rang. Anshuman’s name brought a smile on her face. She immediately answered it. Anshuman was relieved too when he heard her answering the phone with a cheery voice.

“Hey! What’s up?” She asked.

“Manasvi, are you fine? How are you managing? Hope there is no problem.”

“No…no… not at all! Why are you asking this?” Manasvi replied in confused voice but at the same time found it sensible to inform him about her and relieve him. So she quickly replied, “I’m at Metropolitan hotel. Both the staff and cab driver that I got are helpful and courteous. Don’t worry, I’m not alone. I have some really nice people helping me.”

Anshuman sighed, and spoke as calmly as possible, “Thank God! I was worried about you. Now, listen carefully… get in touch with Krish, Amanda, Alex, Chief, whoever you can…”

She knew that something was wrong. Her sixth sense had been screaming since forever that he was going to land in a trouble. She interrupted him, “Wait… what happened… are you fine?”

He spoke in a composed voice, “Yeah! Yeah!!! I am completely fine. It’s just that my bag and all my documents are stolen while going to the school…”

“Stolen??? Whatttt??” Her jaw dropped in horror, “Oh my God! What will you do now?”

“Don’t panic, Manasvi! I knew that you will freak out if I don’t answer my phone. That is why I requested to make a call to you. My phone will be with the officers here but don’t worry, I’m fine. Still, waiting for investigations to be over. I’m confident that these people will let me go once I am proven innocent but it might take time. So please don’t worry. And keep trying!”

She bit her lower lip, fighting to stop her tears as she whispered, “For me?? Why did you take such a big risk? Why did you go there for me?”

He smiled, took a small pause, and asked lovingly, “Aren’t you there for me?”

Her tears rolled down. She wanted to make things easy for him. She wanted to make him happy. She was hoping to see him relieved of his traumatic past. Adding more to this pain was not in her plans. But some way or the other, she would unknowingly become the reason of more ordeals for him. He had always been her saviour. He had put his life at stake for her and she couldn’t help but feel guilty for the same. She felt sorry that she had entered his life at a time when he was not even settled himself, around eight years ago. And till date, she had thrown his life in massive turbulent situations.

“I’m sorry!” She whispered.

“This is not what I was hoping to hear when I called.” He realised that 60 seconds were about to be over and the officer was looking at him to return the phone. He added, “I have to give the phone now. Keep trying to get the officials reach out to me. And please stay strong.”

“Yeah! Don’t worry! I won’t let you stay stuck there for a long time.” She spoke with a strong resolve, this time.

“I know! Just don’t be worried. I’m fine.”

She was beginning to get worried. Her voice dipped when she asked, “When can I talk to you, again?”

“I don’t know.” He leaned his forehead at the bar of the lock-up. “Hopefully soon!”

She closed her eyes and assured him, “Anshuman, I don’t forget even for a second that you are my knight in shining armour. You have been my saviour at times when I had almost lost hope. You are the strongest, bravest person, I have ever seen in my life. I want you to always remember how proud I feel… so so proud of you!”

He sighed, “You do??”

“Yes. At all times. And more than proud, I feel fortunate to be married to someone like you! Please come back soon. I’ll be waiting for you.”

“What if I can’t get out of here for a few years?” He asked.

“I don’t count life in years. I count them in breaths. And I will wait till the last breath I take.”

Hey there,

It is becoming increasingly difficult to reply to all of your messages, mails, and comments at various social media sites. I try to reply to max but I hope you know that it is humanly impossible. Thank you for understanding.

I am overwhelmed with all the love and support. I have always been. And I am deeply grateful for each one of you who has stood by me. Thank you. Love you!!

Take care

…………………

People are people. Everywhere!

Across different continents, countries, and cities. It doesn’t matter where they belong to. Geography, location, faiths, beliefs, or distances may divide them. But one thing fiercely connects them to each other. And that is basic human nature.

At the deepest of the cores, we are all the same. A mix bag of different virtues and vices that define human beings. Some less. Some more.

And you find good and bad, both, here on this earth.

Anshuman kept his hands on his waist and drew a deep breath. He knew that he was in trouble. And this trouble was not a small one. He was in a foreign land without his belongings, without his wallet and his passport. And this was not just another foreign land. He was aware that the two neighbouring countries did not share a good political rapport. Very easily, he could land in a big trouble if he couldn’t prove his identity.

Still, something deep inside him convinced him that he simply had to keep a calm head on his shoulders and take one step at a time. He had done nothing wrong and there was no reason he wouldn’t be able to prove his purpose of being in Karachi. His phone was still in his hand and it was more than enough as he had several documents and identity cards saved in his mailbox.

He threw a glance at his phone screen. The display showed a sign of 11% battery life. Not a good sign.

He started walking in the direction from where the driver had brought him to this secluded area and kept walking for a long distance, quietly and as discreetly as possible, trying not to meet eyes with people when he started coming across some passersby. People, busy in their daily routine and personal discussions, didn’t really pay attention to the guy passing by them and looking down at the ground.

After walking for around 2-3 miles, he reached a market area. Without hesitating even for a moment and without making his situation obvious, he entered a store selling gadgets. He had a very simple plan – charge his phone, call the chief of PBB to use his contacts and inform people here that his wallet and passport were stolen, call the officials in India, and wait for the action to be taken. If he was not able to reach either of them, he would go to the nearest police station and tell them all the details about his experience and ask them to help him. But the first thing he needed to do was – charge his phone.

The shopkeeper, a stout, tall, young man in his early twenties, asked him, “May I help you?”

Anshuman showed him his phone and asked, “Can I get a charger for this phone?”

“Sure!” The man turned around and started taking out a big box where he had kept all type of chargers, and added, “But you won’t get an original here. We only have compatible ones.”

“That will do…” Anshuman shrugged, took the charger and fixed it in the plug kept on the counter before the guy. When the phone display on the top turned green for charging, he asked, “Can I pay by online transfer?”

“You don’t have cash?”

“No, my bag got stolen a while ago. My phone charger and wallet was in the bag. But I can transfer you money using my phone.”

“Okay!” The man looked at him suspiciously and gave him a number for online transaction. Anshuman opened his banking app and transferred the money at the number provided. Thankfully, he had beeen doing international transfers all his life due to the nature of his travel, so it wasn’t new for him.

The same was not the case with the man he was dealing with. The man read the name at the transaction id and then looked at Anshuman keenly, from top to bottom. With a grim look on his face, he asked, “Are you an Indian?”

With that, he picked up his phone, even without waiting for the answer. Anshuman immediately sensed trouble and tried to convince him, “Listen, I can explain…”

“I’m sure, the police will listen to you. You can explain to them.”

“I’ve already told you that I lost my bag and wallet. My passport and identity cards were in the bag. All I wanted was to charge my phone, or else I would have gone to the police myself. My purpose is not to hide or run away.”

“Spying?” The guy frowned at him and quickly informed the police that there was an Indian man in his shop without passport or any identity.

“That’s absurd!” Anshuman rolled his eyes.

“You would have thought the same about me if I was found in New Delhi without a passport!” The man quickly moved out of the shop, and collected men from neighbouring shops to tackle Anshuman in case he tried to run away. Anshuman knew that there was no point in even trying to explain. He raised his hands in air in submission and shrugged, “Fine!”

The police came in time and asked Anshuman to follow them. They had already informed their higher officials about this suspect. Anshuman explained to them in detail about his purpose of visit, how the autorickshaw guy duped him and how he was stranded here. The officer asked him to submit his phone. For the first time, Anshuman was nervous. If they did something to his phone, he had no way to prove his identity or authenticity. The creases on his forehead deepened and he sighed deeply, pressing his lips in.

The officer lifted his unibrow, “What??”

Anshuman asked, “I hope you will give it back to me? This is the only proof I have to show my innocence.”

“Of course! If we find your story convincing enough, you will get many chances to prove yourself. Before that we need to interrogate you.”

“What if you are not convinced?”

“Then, only your God can save you.”

………………………..

Manasvi gave the instructions of the area where she wanted to visit as per her research from Google maps and some insights from the internet.

The cab driver safely kept the address with him and asked her about what made her come back to the place that she had called ‘home’ almost a decade ago. Manasvi told him her story in brief and replied with a deep pain in her words, “A lot of questions were left unanswered. A lot of knots remain tightly tangled. I hope to find some closure this time.

“A lot has changed in this duration. Government has changed. Power circles have shifted hands. How will you get what you want to know?”

Manasvi circled a few points in her diary and replied thoughtfully, “I have a degree in Journalism. This is what I do for a living. I hope I can put it to some good use.”

“Well, I hope you do.” The driver stopped at a dusty, dilapidated, secluded looking place and said, “We’ve reached.”

“Here?” Manasvi got down, “This area looks so underdeveloped and neglected.”

“Yes, it is. We are told that this area belonged to the communities which were destroyed few years back due to extremism.” The cab driver informed her.

Manasvi unzipped her bag to take out money to pay to him but the guy refused and said that she can pay him later as he was going to wait for her there. She was alone and he felt responsible so he was going to take her back to the hotel safely. He didn’t have to do that but his gesture touched Manasvi. She smiled and accepted his offer for help.

Then, she sent a message to Azfar Malik, the guy she had met at the Population Registry Office, and informed him about her stay in Kabul. He asked her to stay in touch, should she need anything. He also reminded her that she could call his mom and family who also lived in Kabul. If she got into any trouble, she could count on them. Manasvi couldn’t stop thanking her stars for these people she had met. She told the cab driver about Azfar and how he had helped her. Basically she wanted to tell him that she was not alone and knew people in Kabul.

The driver said, “I’m glad that you got people here. I just hope you get all that was taken away from you.”

Manasvi thought for a moment and replied, “I don’t need anything. I have made peace with my fate, my life. For I’m privileged enough to have everything I have ever needed. In fact, I’m privileged that everywhere I go, I meet people who make things easy for me. I have been well compensated by God. He has always given me protectors, like guardian angels. But there is one such angel who has lost more than me. Today, I’m here for him.”

“What can someone possibly lose more than you?”

“The basic human right to allow himself to be happy!”

…………………….

I will make available the earlier parts by weekend, or as soon as I get time.

Hi all,

Apologies for posting after a gap. I’ve posted about how disoriented I have been. Back to the groove now.  Hope you are all doing fine.

Now, the traffic at my blog had increased manifold after my book release. I was too overwhelmed. One, I didn’t want new readers to begin reading BEB and make me keep it here for long. Two, I didn’t want to leave an entire story here. So, I closed a few initial chapters that you have already read before.
If any of you want to read them again, I will open them again, maybe in 1-2 days, and let you know. They will be here till the story finishes.

Thank you. Love you all. 

M.

………………

He called Manasvi. This time, she answered too. It was very late at night. Around 1 am. She was tucked in bed, looking out of the window of the hotel, at the dark sky outside and the reflection of the full moon on the glass of the window. When the phone rang, she answered it.

“Hello…”

Anshuman didn’t greet her with the usual salutations used when talking on phone. He was too upset, too annoyed, too angry for that. He almost barked on the phone.

“Why are you still in Kabul when you could have gone back with Krish? Why didn’t you go? Which important work needs your attention there? Are you crazy? Do you have any sense left or you have decided that you will purposefully trouble me until I lose all of my sanity?”

Manasvi was surprised at the way he was scolding her. She was never reprimanded in such a caring, loving, wholesome manner. In fact, she was never scolded at all. Ever. She had maintained an aura that people around her respected her and no one had the audacity to say anything rash to her. And this was not even rash. It spoke of how he was worried for her. Every word reflected how deeply he cared for her.

Softly, she replied.

“No one has ever scolded me so lovingly. Please don’t make me feel new emotions. I’m already struggling with old ones.”

Anshuman was taken aback.

Wasn’t he the one who was going through these supposedly ‘new’ unseen emotions for the first time in his life? Wasn’t he losing his temper on someone so easily just because he was worried about her safety? It was inexplicable and weird even for him.

He gulped some saliva and tried to compose himself but couldn’t. He was terribly nervous because she was alone in Kabul. His anger wasn’t calmed by her honey-laden voice telling him that she had never been scolded like this before.

He wished he could blast her for this carelessness. He huffed more and in a stern tone, he warned her, “Listen, don’t try to distract me…”

“Are you getting distracted?” She interrupted. Biting her thumb nail and resting her head on the cushion behind her.

He stopped speaking, rolled his eyes, and chewed the edge of his lower lip. With that, he leaned sideways at the pillar near the security gates, which had just opened for checking in the passengers. He crossed his lower leg, one in front of the other, and nodded hopelessly with a dejected sigh. And a low whisper, “Why did I even call you?”

She smiled, and replied, “Because you were worried about me. Am I right?”

“Whatever!” He dismissed it in a whisper, as low and as inaudible like leaves falling in autumn.

She stayed quiet at that. She knew that he was worried about her. He knew that she was aware of his feelings. There was nothing to clarify or reject in clear words. She had asked him to return to her when his love for her grew more than his hatred for himself.

But was it even love? He asked himself. Wasn’t he just feeling responsible, like always?
He would just arrange for her certificates and make it possible for her to get the passport made at Kabul itself. That’s all. Wasn’t it? He checked his heart for the answers.
Yes!
Or maybe not!

Manasvi closed her eyes waiting for his reply and when he spoke nothing for the next few seconds, she said, “If you want me to hold the phone for the entire night, I can do that too. But I’m tired. It was a tough day for me. Given a choice, I would love to go to sleep.”

He was irked. He clicked his tongue at his jaw and spoke in an annoyed tone, “Of course! I don’t have an entire night too. I have a flight to catch!”

“Flight?” Manasvi opened her eyes. Almost surprised. By what Amanda had told her about their schedule, they should have been at their next destination by now. Where was he going?

Anshuman cursed himself for speaking more than necessary. But the arrow was already shot. She now wanted to know where he was going. He tried to avoid the question by not speaking but Manasvi didn’t deviate.

She asked again, “Anshuman, where are you, right now? Where are you going?”

“Err…Listen, Manasvi…”

She carefully probed, in a nervous voice, “Have you been posted, already? Are you joining a new PBB camp? Where? Is it dangerous?”

He simply wanted to relieve her. And he didn’t want to lie. So he replied in a casual tone, “No. I’m off to Karachi.”

She sat straight on the bed. Alarmed. Impatient. In quick sentences, she hurriedly spoke, “For what? My certificates? Are you crazy? No, you are not going!”

“And why would I listen to you?” He tersely smirked, walking towards the security gates and joined the queue, slowly moving ahead.

“You should listen to me because I don’t want you to go. Simple.”

“Yeah. Sure!! Like you consulted me before staying back in Afghanistan. Now, have a dose of your medicine. You have no right to stop me.”

She was insanely riled up. “What logic is that?! I’m safe here. In Metropolitan hotel. The staff and people around are courteous and caring.”

“So?” He shrugged, rolling his tongue on his gums. Clearly disinterested.

“Err… so…” For a moment, she was speechless and didn’t know what to say. Then she resumed, “I can’t allow you to step into any trouble.”

“I’m not waiting for your permission. Like you don’t. Anyway, I’m in the queue. My number is next. I’ll switch off the phone once I enter the aircraft. Okay, bye!”

She was irritated but also knew that now, he won’t stop. She had so much to say to him and he had spoken about his plan at the last moment. She couldn’t convince him to stop. When he said that he was about to disconnect the call, she panicked.

“Listen…” She quickly said.

Anshuman handed his boarding pass to the officer on duty at the security gates. In a low voice, he asked her, “What?”

“Take care!”

He didn’t know whether to smile at that or give her a long list of do’s and don’ts. Finally, he murmured, “You too!”

……………

Anshuman disconnected the call and boarded the flight. After setting his bag in the overhead compartment for baggages, he settled in his window seat. Invariably, his thoughts would wander to Manasvi. The way she got worried for him send flutters through his chest. It certainly felt pleasant and new to him. However, he wondered why would she become so concerned for him. He was just going to a metro city for one day and would be back after the work was done. It wasn’t a big deal.
At least, not for him.

Manasvi couldn’t go to sleep after Anshuman’s call. This time, he had made her anxious and a nervous-wreck. She kept praying and hoping that his trip went well.

She picked up her diary from the side table and started jotting down some points that she had noted mentally, to be kept in mind for her field day tomorrow. It was already evening today, by the time she freshened up and inquired about nearby areas. Being alone, she needed to be safe at all times. So it felt better to venture out in the morning the next day instead of going in the afternoon today, and returning late in the evening. She had decided to take rest in the hotel and plan well before she went on with her strategy, for which she had stayed back in Kabul.

…………………

Early in the morning, Manasvi got ready to foray into the unknown territory to gather insight into the existential crisis Anshuman was going through.

At the reception, she met the female attendant, responsible for taking care of female tourists, and asked, “Am I looking fine? I mean, can I go to the city alone?”

The lady gave a long glance to Manasvi and her attire. A long kurta with full sleeves and salwar, with a head scarf covering her hair and head. Then she nodded, “Perfect! But why are you alone?”

“Err…” Manasvi was thinking of a an excuse but the lady remembered.

“Your husband works for PBB, right?”

“Yeah!” Manasvi nodded, “I hope it is not a problem to go alone.”

“See, usually women don’t roam around alone here. But having said that, people won’t even bother you if you do, if only you stay on main roads and stick to your destination. Do your work and come back. Don’t venture in interiors, secluded areas, or shady places.” The lady lifted a brow.

“I’ll take care.” Manasvi nodded, picked up her bag and moved out of the hotel.

She had called for a hired taxi service and asked him to take her to an address in Kabul. She gave a paper to the driver. The driver read the address and said, “Ma’am, this address is a little far from here. Are you alone?”

“Is it a problem?” Manasvi asked.

The cab driver immediately corrected himself, “No. It is not a problem for me. But it could be a problem for you.”

“What does that mean?”

“It is at the far end of the city and a pretty undeveloped area. Towards the interiors. I wondered if you will be able to manage alone.”

Manasvi smiled, “I’m not alone. You are with me. Right?”

The cab driver smiled at the reply and opened his mouth to say something. But before he could utter another word, Manasvi said, “Consider me your little sister. And help me. Please!”

He asked, “If you don’t mind, may I ask what leads you to a place like this?”

“That was my home… a decade ago.”

…………..

Anshuman hired a prepaid taxi at Karachi airport and peered into the address written at the piece of paper where he had written about Manasvi’s school after copying it from her passport documents a week ago.

He gave the address to the taxi driver who took him to the concerned school and dropped him there. Anshuman paid him, checked the address again and kept his wallet in the backpack that he had been carrying.

The woman at the reception told him that the school that he had been looking for was the sister concern of this school, it was actually the older campus and they had shifted to a nearby area. She directed him to that address and wrote it on another paper.

Anshuman walked out of the school and hired an autorickshaw to go to the older campus. The auto driver took him through some narrow dusty lanes and dilapidated buildings for around 2-3 miles and dropped him before a broken building.

Anshuman carefully looked at the building and said, “This doesn’t look like a school. There is no board, no kids, no parked vehicles. What a strange, weird place is this?!”

“Why don’t you get down and inquire from some locals. I’ll park the auto in shade.”

Anshuman nodded and got down. When he turned around to get his bag from the auto, the driver sped off taking his belongings with him. Anshuman ran behind him for a distance and shouted for help but to no avail. It was a secluded area with no passersby. He could only see an auto speeding away far from him. Anshuman stopped running. There was no point. Panting and huffing, he rested his hands on his hips, wondering how quickly the driver fooled him.

‘People are people. Same, everywhere!’

………………

‘Oh, God! How will she go back to India? She doesn’t have a passport!’

Anshuman buried his face in his hands and heaved a deep sigh. He now knew what had been so troublesome for so long and had made him restless.

The rest of the journey passed counting minutes until they landed at Abu Dhabi airport. Anshuman informed his teammates and headquarters that he had forgotten some important documents at Kabul and he had to go back. It wasn’t like he wanted to go and anyone on the earth could stop him. So they simply nodded in affirmation. Everyone knew that if they tried to stop Anshuman or reason with him, he would opt to leave the job. He was that stubborn.

They proceeded for their next posting while Anshuman rushed back to the office of the airlines to get the ticket to Kabul.

……………….

Krish was excited when he could finally manage to get Mr. Mehta to talk to the Embassy of Afghanistan in India and they could co-ordinate with their colleagues in Afghanistan. A hard work of hours was paid in a positive response and he couldn’t stop grinning.

“What happened? Why are you so happy?” Manasvi asked.

“I’ve talked to everyone… long story, cut short… the authorities have agreed to let you travel on your old torn passport that you will get back from the MEA office. You can take your Tazkira, other documents, and the old passport and travel back to India. Everything is sorted.” Krish informed her with a sigh of relief on his lips. His eyes shone when he shared the news.

Manasvi kept looking at his face for some time as if thinking deeply. She bit her lower lip and narrowed her eyes as transverse slits, trying to focus on the information and the implications of the same. Her mind appeared to be in a battle with itself.

“What are you thinking? What is there to think so much?” Krish asked.

Manasvi cleared her throat and replied, “Krish, I don’t know how to thank you for taking so many efforts for me…but…”

“But?”

“I can’t come with you!” She replied in one go. With her face straight and voice as clear as she could manage.

“Whattt?? But why?”

She thought for a small moment, not sure whether she could share it with him. Krish had been an amazing friend but she didn’t know if he would understand and support her journey ahead that she had been contemplating. She hesitated and replied, “Actually… I have some work here.”

“Work? What kind of work?” Krish was clueless and confused. He had no idea why would Manasvi want to stay back when she could easily travel to India with him.

“I’ll tell you soon. Right now, a lot of things are going in my mind.”

“Manasvi…” Krish was getting upset now. The more he got worried for her, the more upset he became.

She interrupted him from speaking more, touched his arm, and urged him to go, “Krish please…please!! Let me do this. For the first time, I feel that my degree and experience in Journalism were for a reason. I want to find something.”

“What?” He shrugged.

“Give me some time… if I fail in my pursuit, I will come… now that you have ensured that I can travel. In the meantime, my school will respond too… please…” Even she didn’t know what she spoke in broken sentences to convince Krish. He was angry and upset but knew that Manasvi was stubborn.

He picked up his handbag and briefly gave her a side hug and said, “Take care. Call me whenever you are in trouble.”

“I will!” Manasvi smiled, trying to assure him that she was fine and had taken this decision after careful thought.

…………………

“Sir, we don’t have any flight to Kabul.” The guy at the airline’s office informed Anshuman.

Anshuman was rapidly typing the details in his phone app responsible for flight bookings, to see if there were any other airlines that had a flight to Kabul. He frowned when the officer and the app, both failed to get him a ticket to Kabul.

“Listen, it’s really urgent.” Anshuman tapped on the desk before him, hoping for a positive response from the officer. But no such luck. The man simply nodded to refuse.

There was no flight leaving for Kabul from Abu Dhabi, until the next day. Anshuman quickly signed on the website of PBB and searched for the list of countries that allowed him to travel without restrictions. Pakistan was listed under that section but they allowed travel to other PBB employees. Not him. He had an Indian passport. He was supposed to go through a thorough check before a given visa even for a short trip.

Anshuman frowned and squeezed his eyes, placing his fingers between the folded creases of his skin in the center of his forehead between his brows. He thought hard and then he asked the guy on the other side of the desk.

“What about Karachi?”

“Sir, we have a flight for Karachi, late at night. At about 3 am in the night. You will reach Karachi early morning by 5:30 am. We can book you on that!” The man looked relieved and he smiled. Anshuman’s anxiousness had made him feel bad for him.

Anshuman nodded and said, “Ok! Great! Please book me a ticket for Karachi.”

“Yes, sir!” The man started typing the ticket after collecting Anshuman’s credit card.

Anshuman stood up from his chair and moved around to make a call to his Chief. Thankfully, the man was available.

“What happened, Anshuman? Have you managed to get a ticket back to Kabul?” He asked.

“Sir, I need a visa to travel to Pakistan. My flight is at 3 am.” Anshuman spoke firmly.

The Chief took a minute to process it. “Pakistan? Why?”

“It’s very important to me.”

“Listen, Anshuman, you know that it doesn’t happen like that. We have to follow a proper procedure. Every country has its own rules and protocol.”

“But, it IS possible for you!” Anshuman interrupted him in a firmer and almost desperate voice, “Both of us know that you can do it. They allow all PBB employees. Only a few people are asked to verify credentials. And I am not asking for an exemption there. But I can do it all after reaching Karachi. I will go through all checks and all verifications but please get me a visa on an urgent basis. Only if you put in a word for me…”

“Anshuman… why are you always so secretive? And always in a rush?”

“Because time is running short and we are always late.”

“You know that I like you so much… and so you get away with all this nonsense…”

Anshuman smiled, “Thank you, sir! Please do it for me. We have almost 12 hours to go…”

The Chief nodded, “Alright! Give me some time. Let me ring up some contacts there.”

“Thanks!” Anshuman smiled and leaned his back at the sidewall of the airlines’ office, staring at the long runaway and planes taking off at regular intervals. This was what looked sensible right now. Instead of waiting for an entire day at Abu Dhabi to go to Kabul, he could go to Karachi for Manasvi’s conduct certificate from her school. At least a major work would be finished by the time, he reached Kabul, and then he could ensure that her passport was re-issued.

In the meantime, he wanted her to be safe and secured. Until now, he had been under the impression that she was going to India. Now that he had realized that she couldn’t go back, he wanted Krish to be by her side until he reached there.

Anshuman immediately called Krish. But he couldn’t reach him as his phone was switched off. So was Manasvi’s number as her phone was discharged. Anshuman tried not to allow his anxiety to get over his stable state of mind.

He collected his ticket, thanked the official, and walked out to look for the airport restaurant to grab a bite till his paperwork for travel was completed.

……………….

Manasvi checked in The Metropolitan Hotel at Kabul, doing everything in her might to not look like a damsel in distress, unknowingly giving ideas to random men.

“Actually, my husband works for PBB.” She slowly told them, using Anshuman’s name once again to get through the difficult situation.

PBB was all over the news channels and newspapers for the past 2 days due to the attack on the camp and otherwise too, they knew PBB. One of the receptionists was very sympathetic towards her when he heard that. They helped her checked in a comfortable room, as she told them that her husband was out on duty, taking care of patients, while she wanted to do some important work at MEA.

They gave her a room key and she checked-in without any problem. In fact, she was assured of a comfortable stay and immediate assistance, should she need anything.

Manasvi thanked them profusely and locked the door of the room from inside, to take a quick bath and get ready. It was already 3 pm and she didn’t want to lose time.

She had important work to do.

…………..

The Chief did all that he could do to move his contacts and ensure that like other PBB officials, even Anshuman was allowed entry in Pakistan citing urgent reasons. His visa and verification would happen at the immigration office at Karachi.

Late at night, he informed Anshuman about that. Anshuman was relieved to know that things were going to get smooth from now.

Since both Krish and Manasvi were unreachable on their phones, he desperately hoped that they were together. He picked up his bag and moved towards the security check-in before boarding the plane. Once again, he called Krish. This time, he answered.

“Hello Krish… this is Anshuman.”

“Hello, doctor!” Even Krish was surprised when he received Anshuman’s call. It was unusual and weird. They hadn’t talked that much that they would cordially call each other. Krish didn’t believe in small talk either. He knew that Anshuman had called for some serious purpose. He asked directly, “What happened? Why did you call me?”

“Krish, where are you? Manasvi is with you, right?” Anshuman tried to stay hopeful and positive about the entire episode.

But his hopes were trashed when Krish refused. “No, I am in Delhi. I came by afternoon flight. Manasvi didn’t come with me.”

“Didn’t come? Because she couldn’t come…She doesn’t have a passport.” Anshuman was very nervous to think that Manasvi was alone in Kabul. He almost yelled at Krish, “How could you leave her alone, there?”

Krish was very worried too. Angry as well. He replied back, “Doctor… let me make this very clear. I ensured that she could travel even with the old passport and get a new one made here. I moved many, many contacts in both the Embassies… but she refused… simply didn’t want to come…”

“Why?” Anshuman was at a loss of words. Feeling apprehensive and angry by now.

“God knows! She said she had some work there. She didn’t tell me which work. Why don’t you ask her.”

“I will!” Angry, Anshuman disconnected.

He called Manasvi. This time, she answered too. It was very late at night. Around 1 am. She was tucked in bed, looking out of the window of the hotel, at the dark sky outside, and the reflection of the full moon on the glass of the window. When the phone rang, she answered it.

“Hello…”

Anshuman didn’t greet her with the usual salutations used when talking on the phone. He was too upset, too annoyed, too angry for that. He almost barked on the phone.

“Why are you still in Kabul when you could have gone back with Krish? Why didn’t you go? Which important work needs your attention there? Are you crazy? Do you have any sense left or you have decided that you will purposefully trouble me until I lose all of my sanity?”

Manasvi was surprised at the way he was scolding her. She was never reprimanded in such a caring, loving, wholesome manner. In fact, she was never scolded at all. Ever. She had maintained an aura that people around her respected her and no one had the audacity to say anything rash to her. And this was not even rash. It spoke of how he was worried about her. Every word reflected how deeply he cared for her.

Softly, she replied.

“No one has ever scolded me so lovingly. Please don’t make me feel new emotions. I’m already struggling with old ones.”

………..

Thank you for all the messages, emails, and all the love that you pour on my stories and me… I am surely privileged and lucky to have you all…
I try to reply to everyone… though unable to reply to some of you…
But please do know that I cherish this bond that I have made with people here.
You all are love💖

Stay blessed!!

……………….

“Someday… you will realize that we don’t redeem ourselves only by punishing us. Forgiving can be another way to redemption. It is not necessary to die for a cause. You can ‘live’ for people you care about and fight for them.”

“Do you think I’ll be able to do that?”

She nodded confidently.

“Yes. The day your love for me dominates over your hatred for yourself, you will forgive yourself. And you will come back. For me!”

Manasvi’s hand was still in Anshuman’s hand. He couldn’t leave it. In fact, he couldn’t get the courage to turn around and go. Something weird tied him to her. Something was not right. And he couldn’t pin his finger on that. Just that, deep down, he knew that something was not making sense.

He was breaking into two pieces. One, who believed in his decision, for himself, for Manasvi, and for their relationship. And the other, who knew nothing, understood nothing, didn’t believe in right or wrong. That part of him didn’t want to leave this hand that he had been holding.

He wanted to stay back. With her.

With a smile on her lips, as radiant as sunrays tearing through the dark clouds of despair, she joined her other hand to hold his hand firmly. And after slightly pressing it, she withdrew her hands, letting him go.

“I’ll wait for you!” She tried her best to hide her tears.

He nodded, took a step ahead, and curled his arm around her. Softly, he whispered, “Take care.”

After a short moment, he left her and turned around to go. She stood frozen at her place, watching him go. He went and sat inside the Gypsy, at the corner seat.

Amanda and Alex had been focused on a map they had received on the headquarters and were discussing where they had to go from their next stop, which is Abu Dhabi. When Anshuman came and sat beside them, they looked at his sad face and shrugged, looking at each other.

“What happened to you?” Alex asked.

Anshuman shrugged and murmured, “Something is nagging me…very badly!”

“And what is that?”

Anshuman frowned and winced painfully, “I don’t know what… but I think I’m missing something…it doesn’t feel right.”

Amanda said, “Don’t worry. It is called ‘separation anxiety’…”

The way she said that and the way she pressed her lips, nearly taunting him, Anshuman knew that she had guessed that Manasvi was dear to him. She might have not known about their relationship, but it was easy for anyone to notice how he had been treating Manasvi like someone cared for his near-and-dear ones. Amanda was not an alien. She was sensible.

And so was Krish!

He observed Manasvi standing at her place with her gaze fixed in the direction where Anshuman’s Gypsy left. Krish came and stood beside Manasvi. After a long moment, when Manasvi noticed that he was standing beside her, she tried to avoid his eyes and leave but Krish was quick to ask.

“Dr. Anshuman is your husband. Right?”

Stunned, Manasvi stopped immediately. Her jaw dropped. She had never imagined that Krish would guess so easily. She nearly stammered.

“How… how did you guess?”

“So, that means, he is?” Krish confirmed again.

“You have some exceptional observational skills!” Manasvi was still shocked. Unable to believe that someone could be so observant.

“Thank you!” Krish smiled and bowed his neck, “But it wasn’t tough to guess.”

“How?” She folded her arms across her chest.

“See, I already knew that your husband is a doctor and is in the army. So half the work was already done. Some office politics, some observation while working with you said that you were not really in touch with him. And here, the way both of you behave around each other…”

“How do we behave?” Manasvi was red on her cheeks by now. She really wanted to know.

“Remember, I had once told you that Amanda and Anshuman are not a couple? Just the same logic can be applied to you and Anshuman but in the opposite direction. You two seem to be looking for each other. When you are around him, it appears that all your focus is on him, and his center of attraction is you. He cares for you, makes things easy for you, protects you, and looks at you as if his world revolves around you. You are always working with him. And it was only a guess initially, but when both of you were stuck together at the base camp, I knew that one of you must be protecting the other and you were caught in the situation there. Isn’t it?”

Manasvi listened to him patiently. Then she said, “Krish, I’m so inspired. Someday, I want to be as good a journalist as you.”

“So, I’m right?” Krish smiled at the small victory, but looked further confused as he asked, “So? Looks like you got married for the documents but ended up falling in love.”

Manasvi pressed her lips inside and slightly nodded to agree, before turning away. She started walking to avoid further interrogation. Always uncomfortable about discussing her personal life, she felt weirdly restless when talking about her relationship with Anshuman. Krish understood her hesitation. He knew that he should give her space but still, couldn’t stop from asking.

“But then, why did he go? Why are you not together? Why did you even let him go?”

Manasvi turned around and replied, “Krish, some bonds are like knots. The more you pull them, the more they get tangled. We are trying to find the loose ends before sorting this knot.”

Krish looked at her as if dumbfounded. He understood nothing. And it was clearly visible on his face.

“Not that I understand any of it but I love the strength you display during difficult times.”

“Thank you.” Manasvi smiled and walked away towards the section of the stadium where their things were kept. It was getting vacated completely now.

……………..

Anshuman was restless even when he passed through the security check and immigration before boarding the plane from Kabul to Abu Dhabi. His heart felt so heavy that for some time he felt that he couldn’t breathe well. He took a deep breath, only to find fine tear droplets lying on his eyelids. His mind, his heart, his thoughts, and in fact his soul was left behind, and he could feel every bit of traction towards the place where Manasvi was waiting for him.

‘Should I go back? Is my heart restless because it is rooting to be with her?
Can we manage a new relationship with all the baggage of the past, I carry?
No… I will keep hurting her… rather, she will be hurt and I would never realize…’

Anshuman sat on his seat and tied the seat-belt, waiting for the plane to take off from the land that had taken so much from him and also, given him a lot too. He looked out of the window. It appeared as if his life, his soul was stuck here. Only his body was leaving this city.

The plane ran on the runaway at a mad speed before taking off, not different from Anshuman’s state of mind.

…………….

Manasvi and Krish were at the airport. Krish was restless too. He was going alone.

“I can’t go, Manasvi. It feels so selfish. I had come all the way with you and now, having to go alone is killing me.” He bit his lower lip.

“Krish, you have to report back to The Insight. And your mom is not well. How long can you live here to be with me… you know that I can’t come… I don’t have a passport to travel back to India. They won’t allow me.”

“Show the documents…maybe…” He was rapidly thinking of options.

“I did everything. You know that.” Manasvi shrugged, “I’m trying to communicate with my school in Pakistan. I really hope they send the required conduct certificate by post or something.”

“Did they reply?”

“No, I have just sent a mail. If they don’t respond, I’ll write a letter and send it by post. Many schools don’t respond to emails.”

Krish tapped his passport on his palm, quickly thinking, “Oh-kay!!! Do you have anyone who can go there on your behalf? It makes things easy if you go personally.”

“I thought the same. But I can’t go… passport issue…”

Krish rolled his eyes, “I wish I could go. But they have banned The Insight and its employees from travelling there. Last year we wrote some political articles which got us banned.”

Manasvi couldn’t stop smiling when she observed the way Krish said that part with a frown on his face. She chuckled, teasing him, “Good for you! At least, there is some place on the earth where you are not allowed to poke your nose.”

Krish grinned sheepishly. “What now?”

“Nothing. I’ll see what can be done. Think like this – you were not supposed to come with me in the first place. You tagged along and I am deeply grateful to you for that. But it has been a few days. Your mother is alone in Mumbai, worried after knowing about the attack at the base and not even well. Your responsibility towards her is more than with me. Go back and join the office.”

Krish sighed and said in a deeply regretful tone, “Tell me what I can do for you.”

Manasvi thought for a moment and opened her bag to take out her keys. She gave it to him, “These are the keys to my apartment. In case, I need any documents or anything, I will tell you.”

“Listen, I’ll be back once I see mom and report at the office. Max 2-3 days. The hotel we stayed at on the first day on landing here looked safe. Stay there. I’ll be back.”

“That’s so sweet of you, Krish! But you really don’t need to be back.” Manasvi was touched at the way he cared for her.

“Come on, how can I NOT come. I can’t leave you alone, here. Why didn’t you ask Dr. Anshuman? He is your husband. He could have helped you.”

Manasvi didn’t reply to this question. How could she tell Krish that it didn’t occur as even a fleeting thought to her that she will be in trouble after Anshuman leaves? When she was with him, all she could think was – Anshuman, Anshuman… and only Anshuman!

What he was going through, what he felt, what he wanted, and how he was distraught was more important for her.

She was not even thinking of herself.

She smiled and replied, “I can’t keep using Anshuman for my own work. He deserves a slice of peace for himself.”

“It’s so tough to know what is going in your mind. Do you even realize the situation?” Krish asked.

Manasvi smiled, “It isn’t that bad if you change the perspective of thinking.”

“What does that mean?”

“I mean to say that since my Tazkira is made, I am officially an Afghan citizen. I will be safe here if I plan properly. This is my country too. Why do I even want to go to India, now?”

…………….

Anshuman closed his eyes and fixed ear-plugs to cut off the unwanted noise from outside and inside his mind. His mind, however, was not a slave to his wishes. It had its own trajectory. And it kept racing at a high speed.
His thoughts ricocheted in tandem through each other, in haphazard flow, cutting across lines of his childhood, his tumultuous years at the training camp in Afghanistan, running away, being saved and taken to India and growing up there in a safe environment, studying to become a doctor, working at PBB and facing all the risk and danger all over again, but fighting from the right side this time.

He was always inspired by the way Manasvi had made her life and moved on from her past traumatic experiences. She was strong. She had the patience and courage to let go of the shackles of the yesteryears from her ankles and keep moving ahead. She had immense grit to stay alone in Mumbai and complete her studies, all by herself, without any help from the Shekhawat family. She had secured prestigious jobs, wrote blogs, clicked pictures, so alluring that they nearly spoke. He was so proud of her. He hoped that she goes back to India and begin her life all over again and forget about him.

Suddenly a thought struck at one spot!!
Freezing him.
All restlessness of uncertainty ceased at this one point for he knew exactly what was troubling him since the beginning and why he was so disturbed all the way. He realised what was nagging him and he didn’t want to leave Manasvi. Now he knew why. His heart was beating hard, forehead laced with sweat beads in a row and throat dried as a new fear crept up in his mind this time.

‘Oh, God! How will she go back to India? She doesn’t have a passport!’

…………………….

Hey all,

Thanks for all the patience you keep with me 💖💖 
I have kept you waiting for long. It wasn’t just the busy routine due to the book release, but also due to the covid19 restrictions in our area, maids still not there, and kids at home.
So, I took a little time😊
BEB is a different story and I didn’t want to write it on a go! It needs an investment of time and emotions. Thanks for all the love you have given to Beyond Every Border🤗🤗

……………

“Manasvi, every time I look at you, my guilt, grief, and pain comes rushing back to me.”

“I wish I could heal your pain.” She sobbed, holding him tightly.

“You can’t,” He whispered, still holding her close to him as if his life depended on him. In a soft voice, he added, “No one can!”

She looked at him. Speechless. Frozen. Confused.
He didn’t tear away his eyes from her. He looked right back into her eyes, hoping to connect to her soul through the window of her eyes and let her know how he was feeling at this moment. Her flowing tears held a testament to the fact that she already did.
In fact, no one understood him as well as she did.

The vehicles around them were moving at a steady pace. One strong voice distracted them. He firmly held her hand in his strong grasp and moved out of that space from between the trucks. He bent lower to the level of the wall of the stadium and entered the small door at the back-end. She followed him.

They entered the stone staircase which lead them to the ‘bleachers’ – the seating arena of the stadium. It was dark and secluded in this space. Her hand was in his. He threw a deep breath and sat down on one of the bleachers. His elbows resting on his knees. She sat beside him, facing him, still shocked at the revelation he had made to her about his early life, his struggles, and his pain.

“Now I know why you pushed me away, every time we drifted close to each other.” She whispered. Her eyes had started burning due to the consistent flow of tears. Her chest ached, feeling the burden of pain over her heart. He stayed quiet, pressing his lips into each other. She leaned her head by his shoulder and closed her eyes. “I can only try to understand your pain. I haven’t faced even a fraction of what you did.”

“The amount of trauma we faced doesn’t matter, Manasvi. What matters is whether we were able to get over the agony and rise above our tribulations. You’ve suffered so much. Lost your father at a young age. I can only imagine how you and your mother managed to run away from traumatic situations and somehow reach India. And then, you lost your mother too. But look at you. You have strongly handled everything. Suffered in silence but rose above it. Studied, made a career, made a life…”

“You did the same! You could have stayed there. But you ran away… found a family… studies and made a life…”

“But still, we are different. You live in the future. You have dreams and ambitions for a promising life ahead. You are strong. You got over your struggles. I am weak. I still live in the past. I have no hopes for the future. I am still living in guilt and pain… I’ve always tried to look at you and become stronger… just like you are…” He sighed.

She wiped her tears, “All of us learn to move on, Anshuman.”

“I’ve been trying so hard, Manasvi… so hard!” His voice choked, as he lowered his face and buried it in his palms. He drew a deep breath from the folded palms over his lower face, almost shaking.

She moved her hand up on his cheek, cupping his face on one side, and asked, “How can I help?”

He nodded, dismissing her offer, “I’m afraid, you can’t. And that is why I wanted to stay away from you. But then, we had to meet like this, and I couldn’t avoid you anymore. I never wanted to pull you inside the darkness that I am living in…”

She kept looking at him for the long pause that she took after he stopped speaking. Then she asked in a low whisper, “And… from here… now what?”

“I had always hoped to spend my life helping people and saving them, and maybe die doing that.”

Her lips trembled. A fresh stream of tears rolled down on her cheeks. She sighed. “Aren’t you being too harsh on yourself?”

“I see no other hope, Manasvi. I can’t forget the past. I can’t get over the nightmares, I am suffering from. I can’t forgive myself for being a part of people who killed hundreds of innocents.”

“But you were kidnapped too. You don’t know who your parents were.”

“Who knows?! Maybe they were also a part of the extremists.”

“You can’t be sure!” She asserted, and pressed his hand in her own, “And you are suffering for no fault of yours.”

He winced and spoke, asserting in a painful tone, “I WAS at fault, Manasvi. I was with them at the function where your father was killed.”

She strongly countered him. “You were just 11 years old. I absolve you of any guilt if you think that my papa died because of you. And all others who died that day. You were a small child. You were not at fault. And then you ran away. You are a hero!”

He looked at her with vulnerable eyes of a child, as if the wrecking ship of his life was searching for an anchor and she promised to be one. He stayed quiet for long. And then, he suddenly felt restless. He couldn’t be using her for his redemption. He knew that he was too damaged to allow her closer to him. Immediately, he stood up to go.
Where?
He didn’t know.

She didn’t let him move even an inch more. She held her hand and slipped her palm in his palm, to intertwine their fingers, restraining him from moving away.

“Don’t go, Anshuman! We are still talking.” She urged. Not forcing him. Not requesting either. She was simply firm and confident.

“Manasvi, I’m too broken…”

“I am broken too.” She said.

“We are different. When you want to help others, you are a complete person, who has healed from her grief and now extending her composure to others as a soothing balm. When I am helping others, I am trying to heal myself. I am using those wishes I gain, those smiles of gratitude to seal the tearing facets of my life. We are not the same.”

“Allow me to heal you…” She stood up to face him.

“No!” He was firm this time. As if scared till the deepest corners of his being. He held her shoulders and firmly pressed them, “You are NOT going that route! You are not a means of my rehabilitation or redemption. No one can do that for others. We have to heal ourselves. Like you did!”

“But…” She panicked. Was he implying that she should separate from here? She wanted to be with him even if it meant putting up with all the anguish and turmoil he brought with him. But he didn’t intend to allow that.

He interrupted her from speaking more, “No, Manasvi! I am severely broken – like a shard of glass. Pieces of me will slash and cut through your soul, for no fault of yours; like fire. I will draw you in my darkness and burn you. You will be left wounded, burnt, and more damaged. A relationship cannot begin in the hopes of one healing the other. We have to do that ourselves. Like you did. Every relationship begins with us. If we are not happy with ourselves if we don’t love ourselves, how will we love each other? I cannot even imagine you taking any pain on my behalf. You deserve a beautiful life from here. You have worked hard. You deserve every bit of happiness. Not an unsure life like me.”

Her throat choked. It was hard to bear what he was telling her. He wanted to heal himself. And she wasn’t sure if she could do this but she wanted to be with him during this process. If he didn’t want to hurt her, she had to respect his wishes.

She released her lower lip, being tormented by her upper set of teeth, until now, and whispered with trembling lips, “I hate to say this, but I understand you Anshuman. No matter how strongly I want to stay with you at this time but I respect your wishes. All my life, I have only respected and revered you. I just want to say that my respect for you has multiplied manifold today. Even in this state, you want me to stay away from you because you are thinking about me. You don’t want me to be hurt in an attempt to heal you.”

He drew her in his arms and reiterated again, “No one can heal others, Manasvi. It is a misconception. Others can only try to help. Most of the time, they end up hurting themselves. I don’t want that to happen with you. Love doesn’t heal. Love suffers and gives up if you push it beyond its tolerance. It explodes and is lost, forever. We can’t do this with us.”

She rested her hand on his chest, as did her face. Her tears wet his shirt. Sobbing softly, she asked, “Will you promise me one thing?”

“Anything for you.”

“Please try to give yourself another chance and come back. For me?”

He closed his eyes and rested his chin on her head, “Since I have promised you, I will try my best.”

“You WILL! You have to! When you know that I will be waiting for you, I know that you will come back!”

“I don’t know how much time will it take.”

“I’ll wait.”

“Maybe, I never get over this feeling.”

“I’ll still wait.”

“But you have to make a promise too.”

“What?”

“If I don’t come back in a year, you will forget about me, begin a new life, and stay happy.”

“But…”

“Please? For me?”

“I don’t know… I can’t promise!” She separated from him. Then, she looked at him straight and said firmly, “I will wait for you. Only you. I don’t think anyone else can understand me or keep me happy, the way you can!”

He huffed and rested his hands on his waist, “You are always so stubborn. You refused my friendship, you refused any help from me … at all times…”

“I AM like that!” She raised her chin defiantly, “Dr. Anshuman Shekhawat, I refuse any confusion created by you to make me feel good or happy. Let me be very clear. Only YOU can make me happy. And so, I am going to wait for you. To come back and take me as your lawfully wedded wife. As a husband. No other relationship, promise, or consolation is going to work for me.”

He frowned and winced painfully, “You understand what I am going through, right now?”

“Yes, I do! When you look at me, you are reminded of all the turbulences that you have been through. You feel more guilty. You feel lost. You feel helpless… And that is why I am allowing you to go. In any other situation, I wouldn’t have let you leave me.”

How easily she had said that. His situation, in clear words, and her own stand in this. It stunned him. She left him, took a step backward, and turned around to go, leaving him dumbfounded, looking at her like a lost soul.

Before she left, she turned around and said –

“One year, ten years, or for my entire life…whatever it takes…I will keep waiting. For you!”

…………

None of them could sleep at night. They tossed and turned on the floor of their sections, where they were lodged. A proper bed was a luxury at this time. None of them cared, though. A proper bed was the last thing on their mind.

Anshuman didn’t want to go. He felt restless and disturbed. His heart was with Manasvi. But his mind said that he had nothing to give her except his anguish and soreness. He didn’t like anything except his duties, his work, taking risks for his job, and treating people in extremes of situations, affected by war, epidemics, natural disasters like earthquakes and floods. Like he had always done.
Did Manasvi deserve this?
No.
Could he leave this life and settle with her in a proper city in a stable hospital job?
No.

Restless, he got up and paced like a caged tiger for the rest of the night. He knew that she needed him and would be delighted to have him by her side. But what did he have to offer?
Nothing.
Except for sadness. Depression. Despair.
He couldn’t spoil her life and leave her destroyed beyond repair!

Manasvi was on edge too. She wished she could ask Anshuman to stop. But she also knew that he wouldn’t. And if he did, it wouldn’t be fair to him.
What he felt was beyond anyone’s comprehension. And if he didn’t feel ready for a relationship, how could she force him? She had to wait. As she had promised him.

It was her destiny now to wait for him, for as long as he took to win over himself.

……………..

By the morning, most of the patients were settled in different Govt. Hospitals oof Kabul. Pieces of equipment and material belonging to PBB were sent to 2 other camps of PBB in Afghanistan.

Krish hugged Alex and Amanda and promised to meet again, sometime soon, whenever fate permitted. So did, Manasvi. Though she didn’t speak much she made sure that she profoundly thanked Amanda and Alex. And all other members of PBB who had helped her, including the paramedical staff.

“Where is Dr. Anshuman?” Krish asked Alex and then turned to Manasvi, with a secretive look in his eyes. Manasvi tried to avoid him. She knew that Krish had eagle eyes. He was an observant journalist and a keen photographer with deep instincts in human behaviour. He was the one to point out that Amanda and Anshuman couldn’t be a couple. Manasvi knew that Krish was, by now, reading her and Anshuman as well. And had quite an inkling into their relationship.

Alex, clueless about the look Krish and Manasvi shared, replied casually, “He must be around. He is taking care of all the transit. So, must be busy.”

“Okay, buddy! Take care!” Krish wished them again, after exchanging numbers and email id’s with them.

Amanda and Alex went to the Gypsy arranged for the doctors. Anshuman was the last one to come to them. He hugged Krish with some formal pleasantries exchanged about getting in touch when needed and meeting soon. When they were just three of them left, Krish walked away, saying, “I’ll have to call someone regarding the tickets to India. Excuse me!”

Anshuman was left facing Manasvi, almost feeling guilty all over again. His hair was ruffled and eyes, red and tired. One look at him and anyone could tell how devastated he was. He tried to speak but couldn’t. His throat choked. Manasvi couldn’t speak, either. Anshuman turned around and walked away.

Tears welled up at Manasvi’s eyelids but she didn’t let them roll down. Her mother used to say that you don’t cry when someone is leaving. It is a sign of bad omen.

After taking 3-4 steps, Anshuman turned around and returned to where Manasvi was standing. She felt as if her life was now more hopeful than before. He had not only turned to look at her but returned to say goodbye to her.

He reached near her and held her hand. Softly, he said, “I just wanted to tell you that I want to come back…I really want to…!!”

She sighed deeply. And smiled through her tears. “I know, Anshuman. And I know that you WILL come back.”

“Just give me some time. I’m not able to untangle the knots in my mind.”

“Someday… you will realize that we don’t redeem ourselves only by punishing us. Forgiving can be another way to redemption. It is not necessary to die for a cause. You can ‘live’ for people you care about and fight for them.”

“Do you think I’ll be able to do that?”

She nodded confidently.

“Yes. The day your love for me dominates over your hatred for yourself, you will forgive yourself. And you will come back. For me!”

…………….

Starting from few paragraphs of last update –

“If you think that I will not be able to understand your responsibilities, commitments, your dreams for your life… if you think that the life-threatening nature of your work will come between us… I want to tell you…” She started speaking in a confident voice.

He left her hand and touched her cheek taking it in his palm, with his thumb on her lips, stopping her from speaking more. She stopped speaking. He nodded, “No, it isn’t that. I know how strong you are. Not even once did I think that you will have a problem with my tough life. In fact, the career that you have chosen is as risky as mine…”

Her brows furrowed with her dark eyes stuck to him, “Then what?”

He sighed and blinked his eyes once, momentarily. He left her hand and her cheek and removed his hands from her to turn away. He looked so visibly unsettled that her first impulse was to hug him and hold him. But she stopped herself. He clearly looked struggling to fight with himself. She decided to wait for him until he was prepared to share his feelings.

He leaned his back at the truck behind him. His eyes, reddened with pain. His face, hurting with an inexplicable rush of emotions, appeared to be killing him. Almost terrifying her.

“What?” She asked.

He replied in a question, “Have you ever heard of love without any promise of ‘together’ and ‘forever’?”

She didn’t even take a moment to think. She just sighed. “You had me at the word – love!”

……………….

He closed his eyes for a small moment, taking a deep sigh, leaning himself behind to rest by the truck. The next moment he opened them. She was looking at him all the while. When he said those words, when he closed his eyes and when he opened them. This time, his eyes met hers.

There was not even a trace of immaturity in her eyes. Not a shred of impulsiveness. What she had said was a ‘well-thought-of’ declaration of a mature woman who knew what she was speaking. He was speechless for some time before he asked.

“Isn’t that what people always look for? Together? Forever?”

“Have you heard of ‘patience’ and ‘endurance’?” She asked in the same tone as he had asked her about his doubts. He was taken aback. What was she talking? He had never expected her to be ‘this’ composed. So undemanding.

His throat choked. He took a step towards her. She took one towards him.

“Do you even realize, you are telling me in words that you are not expecting anything from me?”

“I do. In fact, I am promising you that I have the patience to wait till eternity. I can endure any pain you inflict on me.”

He winced visibly and sighed as his voice dipped further, “How can I inflict any pain on you? Haven’t I done enough already?”

She interrupted him, “No. You have only been healing…”

He didn’t let her speak more, “No…no…no, Manasvi. I am not the healer. I am the imposter. I don’t deserve all this respect and love… and you don’t deserve any more pain…”

She could understand nothing. Helpless, she held his arm, “What do you mean?”

“You have suffered enough. How can a damaged man heal any of your wounds?”

“Damaged?”

“Yeah!” He nodded and started speaking after a considerable pause, “I did not resign from the Indian army because my mom insisted on it. No. In fact, on the contrary, I was retired early due to injury, After around six months of my service, I was posted in Baramulla when during a sudden attack, I was hit by a bullet on my right flank, tearing through my kidney. I bled for long before receiving medical aid. I was saved but lost my kidney. No one knows that I have only one kidney. I left India and went to the USA for further treatment. Mom was happy that I was safe and left the army because of her. While I was retired due to health issues. I stayed in the USA and joined PBB.”

She frowned, visibly upset, “But Anshuman… you are a doctor. I’m sure you are aware of the risks you have been taking despite one kidney. All the difficult areas you work at, so much travel… stress… improper food…it must be difficult for you to manage…”

“So, you understand?”

She was getting impatient. She urged, “Why are you killing yourself?”

“Exactly, that is what I am trying to explain to you. This is my life. This is my destiny. A life that I have chosen for myself.”

Her face toughened. And she replied in a stern voice, “If you think that this condition will have an adverse effect on any of my decisions, or feelings, you are wrong. I don’t care if there are any damages you are suffering from. You will remain the same for me. But I do care about you. Why do you have to be so tough on yourself? Your mom didn’t want, still, you joined a challenging post. You didn’t tell anyone about the bullet injury? Or lost kidney? You could have died. Hell, you can die even now… you are defying these terrifying situations every day… working in these conditions…without caring about your own health… why??”

Eyes fixed on her in an attempt to intimidate her, lips pursed together helplessly, he stayed quiet. Then, he replied in a failing voice, “That’s what I have chosen.”

“Why?” She insisted adamantly.

He opened his mouth to speak, but couldn’t utter even a single word. He spread his hands sideways and shrugged. He was trapped in a weird situation. He couldn’t leave from here. He couldn’t take a step back. Nor could he share everything he was going through with her.
She was staring at him, determined to know all that he was hesitant to divulge.

He tried changing the direction of the conversation. Slowly, he cupped her face in his hands and spoke in a low, caressing tone, “That is why I asked you if you have ever heard of love without a promise of any ‘forever’ or ‘together’? Is that even possible?”

“Yes. Anything is possible!” She spoke in a resolute, firm tone, “Anything is possible if there is ‘love’…”

He lowered slightly, towards her, “It will be major wastage of emotions. Give it to someone who gives you every happiness in return… who becomes your forever bliss… and stays with you, together till eternity…”

She looked at him with moistened eyes, not even trying to hide the myriad of emotions rushing to and fro them. She whispered in a reply, “There hasn’t been even a single soul who could do those calculations and fall in love. When you fall in love… you just simply fall in love…”

She was so right. He knew. He had tried hard to avoid her and to stay away from her. But when he couldn’t, despite knowing everything, how could he expect that from such an innocent and devoted soul like her to not fall for him. She had practically worshipped him her entire life.

He touched her forehead with his own and replied, “What if the person who you love is the reason for more pain to you? What if we scratch our scars and wounds instead of healing them and leave them open every time we try to come closer. The pain will only grow… more and more… every time…”

Confused, she raised her eyes to search his face for clues, “Are you talking about me or you?”

“Both of us.”

“What do you mean?”

He lifted his head and left her face. He knew that he had to share with her the biggest agony of his life that he had been trying to avoid until now. He thrust his hands in his trouser pockets and nodded, wondering how to begin. She knew that there was something deeper that she didn’t know about him. The way he had been shivering in sleep, she knew that a painful nightmare had been troubling him. There was so much to him than anyone knew about him. No one knew him completely. Neither his family, his friends nor her. She waited for him to speak, without leaving the sight of his eyes.

He didn’t try to tear away too. Maybe this was the right time.

In a heavy, throaty voice, almost fighting with himself, he said, “Manasvi, when I talked about being ‘damaged’… it wasn’t just physical. I am emotionally as scarred as I am physically hurt. I am struggling with a lot of issues and I don’t know how to deal with them.”

“What issues?”

“I don’t know how to say…” He frowned and pressed his lower lip under his upper teeth.

“I will try to understand.” She promised and touched his arm.

He swayed his jaw slightly and said, “I don’t know who I am…”

“What?”

He nodded, “I was adopted by the Shekhawat family. They have treated me really well. Like a son. They are kind people. Almost angels. But I am not their biological son.”

“But…” Manasvi was speechless. Not even once did this thought ever came to her as she had always seen a deep bonding between Anshuman and Shekhawat family. Their love was beyond blood-ties.

Anshuman continued, “This is not my first visit to Afghanistan. I have been here before. A few times. Because… I was born in Afghanistan too…”

This was a shock for Manasvi. She couldn’t believe it, “Are you serious? What are you saying?”

“That’s true. I know nothing about who I am. Who my parents were. Which religion, sect or caste, I belong to – nothing! At least you remember who your ma and papa were… you lived with them… but I just know that my folks were probably killed when I was 3 or 4 years old and then I was kidnapped by some extremist group. I was locked, beaten, chained, kept hungry for days almost 2-3 days a week. I was trained by them to become an extremist.”

Manasvi froze at that. It felt like a nightmare that was back to trouble her during the daytime as well.

He continued, “All I remember was how distressed I used to feel when I grew up in some dingy building or the other. Every few days we had to change the location of stay as the army would catch hold of someone and know the locations. In those days, there were many small and big extremist groups here and they fought with each other, with government, with the general public… trying to establish one-upmanship and supremacy. Display of power was the only driving force and they could go to any extent for that. I’ve witnessed more bloodshed, more killings, and more disaster than you ever have, in your entire life, but from the other side. Once, I was with one of the groups when they attacked the rally and the function at the central chowk. I was 11 years old at that time. A lot of people had died on those blasts. A huge commotion was created. And suddenly I got a chance to run away.”

Manasvi trembled with tears falling from her eyes, “My papa had died in that blast.”

“I know.” He said.

“How do you know?”

“Your father and my foster dad, RajSingh Shekhawat had another close friend Uday Singh. He was living in Afghanistan at that time. He worked in the embassy. When the commotion occurred, I hid in his car. I stayed in the backseat of the car, hungry and thirsty for many hours, while he assisted you all. When he left, he found me. I begged him to save me. He gave me a new name and got my passport made using his contacts and sent me to India to his friends. Shekhawat family had no kids. They adopted me. And loved me like their own. But my wounds never healed. I hated myself. I still do. I was very weak. I used to be scared at loud voices, sounds of gunshots, sparks of crackers at Diwali blinded me… I hated everything around me, about me… I could never get over those scary experiences. I decided to become a doctor and heal people. I had heard about you from my mom. But when I saw you dealing with pain and loss, so strongly, I decided to be strong too. When they asked me if I would marry you to help with the documents, how could I refuse? I didn’t do any favour to you. So, you don’t need to feel indebted to me. Or worship or respect me. I did all that to shed the burden of guilt from my shoulders. I became a doctor, joined the army, got injured, but nothing helped. I can do anything to get rid of that guilt of being a part of a group that killed hundreds, of being trained with them, but nothing is helping… I can do anything to get rid of my nightmares…but they keep coming back… I fight with them every single day, every single night…”

Manasvi couldn’t stop her tears which were already rolling on her cheeks for long now. She didn’t know if her own pain was hurting or his agony was tearing her apart. She could feel her throat choking and her chest feeling heavier with a new burden.

Unable to hold anymore, she stepped ahead towards him and stopped only when there was no distance between them. She clutched his shirt and buried her face in his chest before breaking down like a baby. He curled his arms around her tightly and sighed.

“Manasvi, every time I look at you, my guilt, grief, and pain comes rushing back to me.”

………………

{I will update next part tomorrow}

He had tried hard, not to fall in love with her. And he had been successful.
Until now…

And now, he didn’t even know if it was any worth to try harder, anymore!

……………………

Anshuman knew that there was no point in trying to fight with himself anymore. It wasn’t worth it. He knew that he had fallen in love with her.

Even he didn’t realize when the deep-seated admiration that he had always had for her slowly transformed itself in a hope to find an inspiration in her, taking a course over the time to care for her, eventually making his heartbeat pace up when her name was taken, when she crossed his mind, and when she looked at him with those deeply unsettling eyes. The world slowed down to a pause mode after that.

He wiped his face and walked out to go directly to Manasvi. He wanted to see her.

A part of him stopped him. Fought with him. Argued with him. ‘What are you doing, Anshuman? You had decided to stay away.’

‘Maybe I can look at her once!’ He argued back.

Manasvi was sitting on the floor, slightly away from the crowd of patients, talking to a nurse who was bandaging the small wound on her ankle that was swollen now. Manasvi looked behind the nurse. Anshuman was standing there, at a distance, looking at her adoringly. Manasvi blushed and couldn’t look into his eyes anymore. She lowered her eyes. The nurse instructed her not to exert on that ankle. Manasvi smiled and thanked her. The nurse stood up and left.

Anshuman walked closer and knelt down before her on the ground, observing her ankle, “Is it hurting badly?”

“Nah! Just a sprain. It was swollen so she said that I should tie this bandage,” She replied.

He nodded to agree, “Don’t exert more on this ankle.”

She didn’t reply to his advice. Instead, she asked, with her eyes meeting his eyes, “Don’t you think we need to talk?”

This was such a cute, adorable question, that he smiled. He nodded, with a soft shrug, “Talking won’t lead us anywhere.”

“We are not going anywhere, otherwise too.”

In a husky whisper, taking care that no one overheard them, he asked, “Where do you want us to go?”

“Wherever you decide.” She said.

His face was drawn at this. He swayed his jaw painfully and said, “Don’t give this responsibility to me.”

“Anshuman, I want to give this responsibility to you. Take a decision for both of us. I will do as you say.”

“Listen, Manasvi…”

“You have no idea how it feels to know a man like you. I’ve been in awe of you. I’m not even counting that I am married to you. It is still unbelievable…” She spoke in an honest flow of simple sentences.

The reality hit him hard. She worshipped him like no one else. She trusted him and believed that he can never go wrong. He couldn’t accept that.

“Don’t put me on a pedestal. I don’t deserve this.”

“This is nothing. You have no idea how highly I regard you. You will always take the right side. Choose one for me too.”

“What if our right sides are different??” He asked looking straight in her eyes.

“I’ll leave that to you.” She spoke confidently, “I don’t have a right to request you. Or force you. But I can promise. I will always follow you.”

“I can’t give you anything.” He said.

“What you have given me, is immeasurable. I cannot pay for it with my life. But I can promise to stand by you. At all times.”

Anshuman could feel his throat hurting at that. He was about to speak more when he heard Alex calling him from far.

“Anshuman, the boss needs to talk to you. He has called twice.”

“Yeah!” He closed his eyes, struggling hard, took a deep breath, and stood up, speaking to Manasvi, “I’ll talk to you, later.”

“I’ll wait!”

……………..

Anshuman and his colleagues had to ensure that the rescued patients were settled well in the general hospital in Kabul and nearby areas. The equipment was packed carefully, counted, damages noted, and shipped to the other 2 camps located at different parts of Afghanistan.

Manasvi went to the office of the MEA and informed them about the incident. They assured her that the process of her passport would be expedited. They promised her that they would do as much as they could for her.

“I got a call from The Insight. Mr. Mehta has asked us to be back. Since we have no more work with PBB, we don’t need to stay here anymore.” Krish informed Manasvi, as he came back to her, switching off his phone as the battery was low and there were no chargers available.

“Hmm!” Manasvi lowered her face to look at the toe of her right foot, now scratching the dusty floor of the stadium. She leaned her back at the wall of the stadium, overlooking the large ground before them. Hopelessness had started engulfing her after so long.

She had always hated this feeling of uncertainty and hopelessness. When things went out of her hand and she didn’t see any hope, not even for the near future, she would try her best not to panic but couldn’t help the sinking feeling deep inside her heart. After so many years, the same feeling had started creeping inside her and she didn’t know how she was going to manage from here.

Her life was back to square one.

Far away, the sun was setting to embrace a hue of orange over the subtle blue, warning the world about the impending black that would lead to the darkness all over. Her life was no different from this. Happy moments stayed for a flicker of a second, only to be marred by a long haul of gloom.

“Excuse me!” Manasvi straightened herself and started going away.

“Where are you going?’ Krish called her from behind.

“I need to talk to someone.” She turned to reply in short.

“I’ll get the tickets booked for Delhi. We are going back.”

Manasvi could feel her feet getting numb at this. Her throat choked and her eyes moistened as she replied with a salty smile.

“You are going back, Krish. I don’t have a passport.”

……………..

PBB staff was moving around to vacate the stadium used temporarily as their makeshift arrangement. Most of the patients had been moved to nearby hospitals. The equipment and other necessary articles including the luggage were loaded in big trucks.

Manasvi crossed them all and tore through the crowd to search for Anshuman. Finally, she spotted him standing far away at one end of the parking area.

Anshuman was writing the future plan of action on a paper kept on a packaged box before him. He was speaking to a group. Two nurses, another senior doctor, Alex and Amanda were seriously listening to him.

Manasvi hesitatingly took a few steps towards them and stopped. She didn’t know what she wanted to talk to him and how she was going to tell him what she felt. She didn’t even know herself. The mess in her life was increasing, suddenly. And she didn’t want to appear like an opportunist who would find Anshuman whenever she was in trouble. She didn’t even know what he thought about her. His actions in the past 24 hours and a few days before today had given her an insight into his liking for her. She now knew that he was fond of her and liked her. But was that enough? And was it necessary, even, to have clarity into feelings? What was she hoping for them?
She didn’t know.

Manasvi stood watching him interacting with his colleagues and felt clueless. Her heart thumped strongly against her chest. Her throat hurt. She could feel a heavy burden weighing down her shoulders, stressing on her lower back. No, she didn’t have the strength to face him while still holding her tears. She didn’t have the heart to stay unaffected. She turned on her heels and walked away.

As if on cue, Anshuman turned in her direction and found her walking away, with a limp in her injured ankle. He shifted the paper towards Alex and said, “Take over from here. I’ll be back in a while.”

Before anyone could say something or ask, he quickly took fast steps towards the direction that Manasvi had taken. He almost sprinted to reach her and called her from behind, holding her hand as he stopped her, “Hey!”

As if life had returned to her. His hand holding her hand was an elixir infusing life into her. She looked at their hands and then his face before she heaved a sigh of relief.

“Where are you going? Why didn’t you wait for me?” He said, nearly complaining.

“I didn’t want to disturb you.” She murmured.

He wet his dry lips, taking them inside his mouth, and nodded adoringly. He looked around them. There were few paramedics and patients moving around. He softly tugged on their hands to take her between the trucks being prepared for transportation. After crossing a few trucks, they reached a secluded place between two trucks, far away from others.

She followed him, spellbound, not leaving the sight of his face even for a moment. He was still holding her hand. He finally left her after reaching the space where they were just the two of them. He spoke in a velvet-soft voice, “I was looking for you since morning.”

“I was looking for you too.” She whispered.

“How are you? Are you fine?” He asked.

“Hmm!” She nodded to affirm, and asked, “You?”

He smiled lightly, “I have lived my entire life in these situations. It’s no big deal for me. But I was worried for you…err…last few hours were pretty difficult…”

She interrupted him and stepped closer to him, eyes fixed on his eyes, with a whisper on her lips, “Anshuman…last few hours were the most beautiful moments of my life. Not a second was difficult.”

His smile turned into a sad one. He held both her hands in his hands and clutched them strongly within the hold of his fingers curled around hers. He raised their hands between them and fumbled to find words. Softly, he sighed, “Manasvi…”

She didn’t want to regret her entire life for not saying it. She didn’t want any of them to step back from this. More than everything, she didn’t want to know what he wanted… for his wants scared her… His actions were enough to tell her that he felt strongly for her. Whatever those feelings were, they were intense and raw. And she was important to him.

She didn’t let him speak after her name and said, “I want to say something.”

He was as scared as she was. He didn’t want her to say anything. He didn’t want to let her down. He requested, “What if I want to say something first?”

She studied his face carefully. What he wanted to say didn’t look like anything remotely similar to what she was thinking or hoping. She knew that he had something sinister to say and she wasn’t prepared to hear it. Not now.

“If you think that I will not be able to understand your responsibilities, commitments, your dreams for your life… if you think that the life-threatening nature of your work will come between us… I want to tell you…” She starting speaking in a confident voice.

He left her hand and touched her cheek taking it in his palm, with his thumb on her lips, stopping her from speaking more. She stopped speaking. He nodded, “No, it isn’t that. I know how strong you are. Not even once did I think that you will have a problem with my tough life. In fact, the career that you have chosen is as risky as mine…”

Her brows furrowed with her dark eyes stuck to him, “Then what?”

He sighed and blinked his eyes once, momentarily. He left her hand and her cheek and removed his hands from her to turn away. He looked so visibly unsettled that her first impulse was to hug him and hold him. But she stopped herself. He clearly looked struggling to fight with himself. She decided to wait for him until he was prepared to share his feelings.

He leaned his back at the truck behind him. His eyes, reddened with pain. His face, hurting with an inexplicable rush of emotions, appeared to be killing him. Almost terrifying her.

“What?” She asked.

He replied, “Have you ever heard of love without any promises of being ‘together’ and ‘forever’?”

She didn’t even take a moment to think. She just sighed. “You had me at the word – love!”

……………….

{I’ll be live on Instagram tomorrow evening at this time, at 6:30 pm; to talk about The Masquerade; To announce and post my podcasts.
Thank you.}

 

I have lots to share. But one, I wasn’t getting time to post. Two, when I came here to post, the site kept crashing. In case, it continues to behave like this, I will inform you beforehand and for some time, I will upload new chapters on my other site.

Anyway, I have got hundreds of messages and though I try to reply to everyone, it becomes impossible at times to address so many people. So in case, you don’t get a reply, please consider that either it might have skipped my notice or I might have been loaded with messages and emails and maybe I am busy with work. Otherwise, I don’t neglect or ignore people purposefully. That is not me. If I get some time, I try and reply to my buddies here. That is the only way, I think, I can thank you and show my gratitude to you, apart from updating. 

Hope all of you are fine and doing well. Stay safe.

lots of love. Stay blessed.

M.

………………………

 

“This is the first time that I am scared. Scared for you!”

She didn’t know if she had heard it correctly. Did he really say that he was scared for her? She had seen him taking care of her safety, running around to help her, be with her, and try his best to be around her. But to accept that he was scared for her was totally different. And he didn’t say that by mistake or by chance. He had spoken it with conviction, with his eyes resting adoringly on her. She couldn’t move her eyes away either.

This time spent with him was incredible. Their little moments by the cliff every night, talking about random things, their fights and tussle every other day when he insisted to stay by her as a well-wisher and friend but she refused to accept a fake cloak for their feelings under the garb of friendship, he going out of his way to make things work for her, she trying to prove that she was self-sufficient – every single moment where they tried to avoid each other had only brought them closer. They kept trying hard to resist this inevitable pull without even realizing that it had left their will, long back. It was no more in their hands.

Since yesterday, all they had witnessed was a blatant, raw concern for each other. To remain averse to this sensitivity wasn’t easy. Not for her, at least. She didn’t know about him but she was sure of herself. If she had always worshipped him, he had deserved every bit of it. She had completed the circle of her feelings with her love. She closed her eyes to hold his image in her eyes forever.

He nodded hopelessly when he found her smiling like an ecstatic baby with her eyes closed. He couldn’t stop smiling too. “Manasvi Rathore!”

“Hmm?” She opened her eyes.

“Are you even aware that we are standing in the middle of a warzone?” He chuckled softly, almost aware of what she was thinking.

She opened her eyes, still smiling, “No war can last more than my patience.”

He turned around and waved her dupatta again in the air. This time, the army saw them. Manasvi rode on the parapet end too and before she could stagger, he held her arm. He asked, “Aren’t you too confident about your fate?”

She replied, “Not fate. I’m too confident about my faith. How long will God test us? How long will the drought last? It has to rain someday!”

He became serious. “Sometimes, an entire life is spent waiting for that one drop of rain.”

She took a deep breath and replied confidently, “I’ll wait till my last breath.”

Speechless, he looked at her resolute face, her strength and her confidence, and the glow on her face. A glow that appeared only when love powered your conviction.

The army men rushed towards them and spread a tent cloth with eight men holding it’s ending. It was almost twelve feet from where they were standing at the edge of the parapet. Anshuman turned towards Manasvi and said, “We’ll have to jump.”

She looked down and her jaw dropped. She kept standing for a moment, trying to absorb the information. She had done many daring things in life and she was never really scared of many things in life. But she had never had an experience of jumping from such a height. Her throat dried, “But…it’s so…”

She had barely started speaking that he interrupted her and said, “Didn’t you say that you always trust me?” And before giving her any time to feel anything more or be prepared for the next step, he curled his arms around her and jumped down with his back towards the ground. Her voice was stuck in her throat, so hard, that she couldn’t even scream. She clutched him tightly and buried herself in him. With few seconds, they hit the tent material and were carefully cushioned by eight men holding them, who slowly lowered them to the ground.

Manasvi could feel her heart leaping out of her mouth, almost stuck in her throat. It was beating so hard that she couldn’t speak anything when she got up, shocked and astounded. She could hear Anshuman jumping to his feet and introducing himself to the army personnel and telling them how they were stuck there at the terrace for the past eighteen hours.

By a Universal code of conduct followed by doctors and army worldwide, he was respectfully introduced to the seniormost fellow in the unit that met them. They offered them water.

Manasvi looked around. The charred remains of what was a hospital facility till yesterday, the dead bodies of some extremists and the blood around the area made her sick. She felt like puking. Anshuman gave her a water bottle and said, “Have some water. You will feel better.”

She stared at him with complaining eyes, and whispered, “I could have died of shock. You didn’t even give me time to compose myself and think that we were about to jump.”

He chuckled, “Oh! Sorry. I should have waited for a good time to jump.”

Mortified, she murmured, “I didn’t mean to say that.”

“To be honest, this is what we are taught – take a quick decision. When you have to do something, do it right away. The more you think, the more you will try not to do it. I didn’t want to give you time to be scared.”

“We could have died.” She raised her doubt.

“No!” He spoke confidently, “With eight men holding a tent for you, there are bleak chances that you’ll be hurt. I’ve jumped without any tent, without anyone waiting for me to land.”

“My God! Really?” She could only imagine how he must have done that. Now, she knew why he was so confident.

He didn’t reply to her and walked away to thank the officers who had arranged for vehicles to carry OT equipment and for them to go to Kabul where the rest of the PBB staff, Amanda, Alex, and Krish were staying.

Anshuman found his mobile phone that he had dropped in the OT while helping the staff evacuate some of the equipment. Finally, they were seated in a gypsy at the back seats. Manasvi sat next to Anshuman in space good enough for one person. The army guys were literally stuffed in all the vehicles that were used in transit. Not all men left the arena of the fortress. Some people were still there, patrolling in case there was any other attack or any hidden unwanted elements.

The vehicles moved fast on the dusty, broken roads, towards Kabul. Manasvi looked outside the window and sighed in relief. Anshuman sat with his hands clasped together, resting on his knees. Manasvi curled her hands around Anshuman’s folded elbow. Space between them was so less that she was already leaning on his arm. Her head was on his shoulder. Holding him was an instinctive action to feel secured. Little did she knew that he will softly lean his face sideways to touch his cheek over her head.

Surprised, she slightly turned her face to look at him and found him looking at her from a hand’s distance, making her squirm. She parted her lips to release a small breath of air but didn’t remove her eyes away. Nor did he.

For a long time, when none spoke anything, she sighed and lowered her eyes. She didn’t have the strength to sustain the warmth in his eyes. It had the potential to melt even the toughest layers of snow. She moved her hand down his elbow, towards his wrist and then to his hand. He unclasped his hand and intertwined his fingers with her’s instead. She closed her eyes and let her head stay on his shoulder for the rest of the journey.

The army gypsy dropped them at a government stadium at Kabul, a temporary facility made to accommodate the ailing patients, the machines, the paraclinical staff, and all that they had rescued from the PBB camp. Amanda, Alex, and Krish were relieved to see them safe.

“PBB camp is being shut in this area. We are called back at the headquarters.” Amanda informed Anshuman.

He was not even listening to her. He just nodded and walked away.

He went inside the nearest washroom and shut himself before splashing water on his face. The last few days had been the most difficult days of his life. He had never struggled in his life, even when he had to face extreme situations, harsh weather, difficult people, and tough working conditions. Never. Never had he ever struggled with himself so much. Just to stay away from someone, while his heart and circumstances kept pushing him towards her. He had no idea what had drawn him towards Manasvi.

The strength of that girl when he saw her for the first time in his home in Delhi, when she was there with her mother, fighting to find ways to stay back in India. He didn’t know what exactly was the issue. He had been on a vacation from his course in Scotland and knew that he had to go back to his medical school studies but what he had seen from the glimpses that he had caught of her and heard from Preksha and his mom was enough to be in awe of how tough she was.

When his mom had asked him, if he would help her by getting married to her, he didn’t even think twice about it. Not because he was attracted to her or liked her. In fact, he didn’t even know her. But whatever he had known about her was enough to tell her that she was fighting a difficult battle and she needed his help. Strong people had always overwhelmed him since he was a kid.
Maybe because he knew that he was not strong.

He never was…

Alex knocked at the closed door of the washroom, “Bro, are you fine?”

“Yes!” Anshuman cleared his throat and replied. “I’ll be out in a moment.”

“Great. Come out and eat something. You must be exhausted from yesterday.” Alex said and walked away.

Anshuman looked at himself in the mirror. The reflection was someone he didn’t even recognize well. He recalled how he had worked hard to gain the strength that people found awe-worthy. How he had made himself so tough to be able to shed the scars of his past. How he had reminded himself day in and day out that he had to spend his life serving others. How he had tried his best to achieve what he had always admired in people who didn’t accept defeat.

Whenever he heard about Manasvi from his mother, his resolve to become stronger and better would multiply. She was his inspiration, since forever. Unknowingly, she had pushed him ahead in a positive way, in being shaped as what he had become, today.

And whenever he talked to her, once in a year, he would try his best to conclude the conversation in a few words, a few simple questions and routine ‘take care’ kinda statements. He took care that he didn’t talk more or maintained any continuity in the conversations. He had to talk to her only once in a year. That too, only because his mom asked him to do so. Otherwise, he would have never talked to her. Ever.

He had tried hard, not to fall in love with her. And he had been successful.
Until now…

And now, he didn’t even know if it was any worth to try harder, anymore!

……………………

I have no words to thank you for your support, for standing by me when I need time, for being understanding with me, and bearing with me through my deadlines.

I was away from social media, my blogs, and all internet sites during this time. And I was able to finish a lot of work. Finally, I can breathe in peace. 

Thanks for being patient. 

Love you all. Stay safe.

…………………………..

Also, SALUTE to our Army for staying there at the borders so that each one of us sleeps in peace. It is one thing to write a story where the Army plays an important role, and even that gives me goosebumps, but it is totally different to stand there, fight the perpetrators and take them down, risking their lives. 

We need to always remember that the peace and sleep, we treasure so much, didn’t come for free. It is very precious. It was given to us by the sacrifices of our brothers on the borders.

Always remember them in your prayers!

 

…………….

“I’m fine with that. And now, I don’t even want to listen to what you feel. Your words are not needed, Anshuman.”

“But…”

“If you think words are the only means to convey our feelings, you are mistaken.”

……………………

He blinked his eyes, once. Slowly. Deliberately.
She had rightly said that she could read about his feelings in his eyes, his actions, his movements, and his care. So much so, that she didn’t even need words to confirm them. He could believe it. For, this was what he had been doing, all this time. He knew her exact feelings. And she hadn’t uttered even a single word about what she felt about him.

He sighed. “I know that words are not the only means to convey any feelings. In fact, they are not even enough. Still… you can insist… you have every right.”

His hand was still in her hand. She had enclosed it secured in her soft hands. She could feel her throat choking when she said, “I will remember to exert that right. One day, for sure. Thanks for telling me that I could insist. For now, I don’t want to push you. I want to hold this moment, forever.”

He curled his fingers around her hand and squeezed it softly, but firmly. In an unexpected move, he lowered his head and touched his forehead over hers. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath in, well aware that his eyes were on hers, from a distance so close that she could hear him breathe. He didn’t close his eyes. He wanted to have a long look at her. To keep this memory in his mind. Just the way, she had suggested. She had wished for.

“This moment will stay in my memory, too,” He whispered, “Forever!”

………………

At night…

The sun went down behind the mountains, giving way to the darkness seeping in every crevice, every corner, every part of the fortress.

Anshuman and Manasvi sat quietly, with their backs tucked to the sidewall, overlooking the valley, away from the main fortress, campsite, and the area of warfare. Thankfully, no one came there or spotted them at the terrace.

As the night approached, the sounds of gunshots, bombings, shellings, and running around of boots went down. It became pitch dark and dead silent by late night. Anshuman looked at the watch over his wrist and pressed the button for the faint green light to appear to show the dial in the dark.

“11:00 pm.” He whispered.

“The sounds have stopped.”

“Yeah. Either they are gunned down or arrested.” He left a deep breath and rested his head, back on the wall behind him.

“Should we go down?” She asked, in a slow whisper.

He nodded to refuse, “No, it will be a big blunder. Some people either hide in darkness or try to run away, taking advantage of the dark. The army might also get confused and shoot us. Let the dust settle down for a few hours. And let there be sunlight.”

She ran her tongue over her upper lip, and asked, “Then? Early morning?”

“Yes. Where is your phone?”

“It is in the bag that had my certificates, and diary. Amanda took it with her.”

“Okay!” He nodded, with his neck up and down, trying to think.

“Your phone?”

He shrugged, “Dropped somewhere… I don’t know… maybe in the OT.”

She didn’t say anything after that. She rested her head at the wall too and counted the number of hours left for the morning. She woke up early to do yoga. So, she knew that it was dawn by 5:00 am, every day. It meant that they had to spend six hours more on this terrace.

Six hours more!
She didn’t know what he felt about it but for her, the time spent on this terrace was the most beautiful time of her life. That she had ‘only’ six hours more, left with him, felt so less, so draining. Given a choice, she would have never allowed these six hours to pass, ever. She could spend her entire life here. She didn’t know if Anshuman would ever tell her what he felt for her. But it was more important for her to treasure what she felt for him. She loved him. And she loved being on this terrace. With him. Even if it was for the last time in their lives.

………………..

By midnight…

Manasvi was woken up by the nightmares that disturbed her for most of the nights. She had never had even a single night in her life when she didn’t have those scary nightmares. And today was no different. In fact, today was a scary day. So much had happened today. As if her mind had revised and revisited all the sounds and smells that she had been fighting with, since childhood. She had a hard time falling asleep. She didn’t even realize when she fell asleep, tired and exhausted after the difficult day. Anshuman must have slept after her. Because she didn’t even remember when she closed her eyes, hugged herself, turned on her side, and drifted off to sleep.

Now that she had woken up, her eyes darted around to look for Anshuman. He was at a few feet distance from her. His long legs were stretched ahead. He was lying on his side, with his head rested on his folded elbow below his head, tucked as a pillow. His other hand, held that folded elbow, thereby creating a space, where his head was safely resting. His face and his entire body shone in the white moonlight.

She couldn’t move her eyes from him, because he didn’t look peaceful while he slept. He was clearly disturbed.

On an impulse, Manasvi crawled and kneeled to be near him. She observed his face closely. His brows were furrowed in a distinct frown, with clear lines between his brows, forced to stay still. His eyes stayed tightly shut. His lips were pursed with so many expressions crossing his face. His eyeballs moved rapidly under the curtain of his eyelids. He appeared to be breathing heavily.

‘Do I look like this, when I am witnessing nightmares in my sleep? So disturbed? Does he suffer from nightmares too?’

She knew exactly how he was feeling and what he was going through. As if it wasn’t painful to witness nightmares every night and be woken up by them that she had to witness Anshuman go through nightmares too. It was probably one of the scariest feelings to go through. When you are asleep, you are fighting an unknown enemy and not even able to fight it with all your might, because it doesn’t allow you to. It envelops you until it drains all of your energy, slowly, compulsively, forcing you to give up or be defeated, before waking up with a jolt as there is probably nothing you could do while you were asleep. Nothing felt more helpless. More restless.

She didn’t even think twice, when she slipped to lie beside him and curled her arm around him, to hold him and support him. She curled her fingers over his shirt at his back. Training at Army and working at PBB had been responsible for his fragile sleep. The very next moment, he knew that she had slipped beside him to hold him. Surprised, he opened his eyes. Only to meet her eyes, right before him. She was looking at him, slowly adjusting in the tiny space left for her on his elbow.

He pressed his lips inside and softly moved his head away to let her rest her head on his elbow. He stretched his other hand and impulsively curled it around her, as discreetly as possible, but not before heaving a deep sigh and closing his eyes, again.

She didn’t know if he caught sleep immediately after that or took some time because he didn’t move after that. Not even an inch. She watched him sleep for some time and then she closed her eyes too.

It was weird that she didn’t hear or feel him moving for the entire night after that. He didn’t get any nightmare after that. Nor did she. Her sleep was broken a few minutes before the dawn, and she knew that she didn’t have any nightmare for the rest of the night. She was curled up like a baby when she woke up, hugging herself and not him. His hand was though, still around her. He slept peacefully, holding her.

She didn’t know what trauma had been affecting his mind that he had to go through these nightmares. She was not sure if he would ever allow her to step so close to him, to be able to share those ordeals. And she didn’t even know if she would ever be able to help him, even if he allowed her to. But one thing was sure, that it had helped her.

She had never known before this that holding someone and trying to ease his pain would soothe her own wounds. That, in an attempt to calm his demons, she would be fighting her own. She had never had such peaceful sleep before. And that was not even in her mind when she held him to calm his nightmares.

She had just hoped to put him at ease. But never knew that in return, she would gain peace. herself.

…………….

Early morning, around 5:20 am.

Anshuman woke up and found Manasvi leaning by the parapet, looking outside.

“When did you wake up?” He got up, and yawned slightly, stretching himself, talking to her as if it was the most casual thing to do.

“A few minutes ago.” She turned her face to him and replied with a smile.

He knelt down and crawled to be beside her to look at the war scene downwards. He asked, “What is the status?”

“Peaceful.” She replied.

“Great.” He sighed.

They examined the area once more and saw no sign of warfare. The campsite was as deserted as a graveyard.

“Let’s go!” He said,

Worried, she asked, “Are you sure?”

“Yes. See, there!” He pointed towards some men from the Afghan Army patrolling around the area, carefully moving around each area, making sure that the area was free of extremists.

Anshuman stretched his hand towards her and asked, “Can you give me your scarf?”

She removed her white dupatta and gave it to him. He stood straight, waving that piece of cloth, stretching his hand high up in the air and so clearly that army could see it.

Panicking, she stood beside him, “Anshuman, please be careful. They can mistake you for the enemy.”

He patted her shoulder assuringly, “We have to take that risk. Pray for the best.”

Manavi nodded and opened her hair so that her long hair flew in the air, so that the Army men who saw from far, could see that there was a girl standing with the guy waving the cloth. Anshuman rode on the edge of the parapet.

“Anshuman…” Manasvi could feel her heart sinking at that.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going there. I don’t want them to gun me down and later realize that it was a mistake.” He chuckled lightly.

She was not amused. In fact, she was miffed at that, “You think, it is a joke?”

“No, I don’t! But it is a regular thing for me. This is not the first time that I am stuck in such a situation…waving flags towards the army, praying that I am not gunned down by mistake…  however…”

“However?” She raised her chin and asked.

“This is the first time, I’m scared. Scared for you!”

………………

(Thanks for reading)

Since it is a Saturday, and for now, Saturdays will be BEB days… so here I am with a new update.

I really hope, wish, and pray that things are going well on your end. Times are difficult. Stay strong. Light is just around the tunnel.

On my end, I have several things to share – So, I will post separately about them tomorrow. I will also post an update a Love, Lies, Etc. and few updates of Fire & Ice tomorrow. Since Sundays, I have some free time in hand.

Love you all 💞

Stay blessed. Stay safe. Take care🤗

M.

……………………

“Formalities?” Her throat choked. Her eyes were nearly hardened. Was she being too impulsive when allowing him a window to her feelings? Was her heart about to be broken, mercilessly?

“That’s what I thought. Our marriage was always a responsibility. A formality.”

………………………………..

Manasvi knew that what Anshuman had said about their marriage was true. But she wasn’t talking about the circumstances of their marriage. She wasn’t even thinking about the documents, her citizenship, or, the formalities, etc, right now. She was talking about ‘them’ and their relationship that had slowly but gradually developed in the last few months. She was talking to him about what they felt for each other, at this moment. She wished to share what she thought about him. She wanted to know what was her status in his life, and whether he considered her as anything in his life. She was talking about the present. And, if at all, they had ‘anything’ between them.

Ironically enough, he knew that! He was well aware that Manasvi was talking about their present status and not about how they got married. Still, he chose to avoid any discussion, to hide his feelings and intentions behind hurtful words like ‘formalities’ so that she was deterred.

Manasvi shook her head, staying as calm on the surface as Anshuman was, and over a choked throat, she said, “I understand. Our marriage was always a formality. And it will remain so.”

She turned away with that, leaving him standing by the wall. She was a reticent female when it came to people and relationships. She would sense a hostile environment from far and would avoid interacting with anyone who didn’t want her around. She was not someone who would push a man to accept her as his love. Especially, when the man was Anshuman. He had done so much for her that even if he had asked for her life, she would have happily given her life to him.

Here, he had just hinted that he wanted her to stay away from him. Why? She didn’t know. But she had to follow what he had asked her to do. If that meant, staying away from him, she decided to do that.

Anshuman could feel his heart sinking when he found her face drawn when she turned away. For a moment, he wanted to stop her and pull her in his arms, tight and secure. But he couldn’t. He knew that he shouldn’t.

Manasvi walked away to a few steps’ distance and sat down by the parapet of the terrace, looking outside towards the valley. The discomfort and disturbance in her heart and mind, the chaos in her thoughts resembled the warfare outside.

The smoke had increased and so did the smell of burnt carbon. The gunshots could be heard at intervals, after a few minutes. Occasionally, a sound of blast would also reverberate in the surroundings. Anshuman knew that he had hurt her and made her feel insignificant and unimportant. And this was certainly not his intention. He hated the fact that he didn’t know how to deal with this situation at this moment. How to make someone feel important without promising anything about the future? Was it even possible? Wasn’t the assurance of a future expected to accompany the words of acceptance and togetherness of today? Why was it so complicated? Why couldn’t they both be different?

Manasvi was not even sure why Anshuman had behaved as if he was taking care of her as a responsibility only…
It was tough for her to believe this. For she knew that this was not true. She had distinctly seen a deep-rooted longing entrenched in his eyes for her. She had sensed the vibes she received from him. They were much intense than ‘formal care’ or responsibility. Anshuman’s presence was like an impenetrable shield around her. Like Sphinx. He was always there to guard her, protect her, be there for her.

She noticed that Anshuman had left the wall and reached her. He sat down beside her, watching the valley. Quietly. Discreetly. Without creating any scene. She wished she could ask him all the questions that were ratling across her mind. He wished he could explain his stand to her.

She knew that he was uncomfortable. Yet, he was there. With her. For her. At all turns. During all phases. Wasn’t that enough? She wondered.
He knew that she deserved to know the reason behind his behaviour. She deserved to be a part of his complete story. A story that she was already a part of, but only a small part. How he wished to share everything with her. But he couldn’t.

They sat together for some time, without speaking anything, lost in their own thoughts, trying to find the solutions in the crests and troughs of the valley before them.

She noticed that he was quiet, just as she was. He appeared definitely disturbed. Still, he was sitting next to her. He didn’t walk away to some other corner of the terrace. No, he was right there. Her heart thawed when Anshuman was around. She felt warm, fuzzy, and secured with him.

She asked, “For how long will this continue?”

He turned his neck to look at her. Clearly dismayed. Visibly unsettled at the question, she had asked. He didn’t understand what she was asking and how he should answer her. She raised her brows at the changing look on his face and realized that he was blank. She shook her head casually and relieved him, “Uh… no, I mean… this fight between the army and the extremists. How long will it continue? Do you know?”

He was looking at her as if jolted out of his thoughts. He cleared his throat, “Err…Ohh!!” He was relieved that she was asking about the fight that went on. He sighed and tried to speak normally, “Actually, we can’t say… from few hours to almost an entire day, or maybe more… until all extremists are subdued or arrested or shot… whatever it takes to suppress them.”

“Do they hide?”

He shrugged, “Obviously! And this fortress has so many sites to hide for hours. So, the army will have a tough time to nab all of them. It all depends on how resilient each side is.”

“Hmm!” She wondered aloud, “It is so unfortunate. People have so much strength, grit, fortitude, and a passion to even die for a cause. Yet, some people choose to become protectors – like the army, the doctors – people like you; and some choose to become aggressors. They kill other people for their cause,”

As an afterthought, he said, “Everyone has a different motivation for what he chooses to do but in between these two are the ones who didn’t get to choose their fate and yet they suffer the most – people like you, the victims.”

She was moved when he mentioned the victims. He thought so deeply about everyone in need, poverty-ridden, resources starved, people who have no means to health care, safety and security. These few were the very basic responsibilities of a state. And then there were people like her, people who were victims of extremism, border politics, bureaucracy, and had no way out to get a life of dignity if they wanted to settle in one place and call it their own. She had no idea what would have happened to her if Anshuman was not her guardian angel.

At the same time, she was aware that every girl was not lucky to have an ‘Anshuman’ in her life. She was fortunate to have him, even for this small limited duration, and she should be grateful for that.

She replied, “Victims will keep increasing as long as there are assailants and aggressors. But I wish every victim gets a protector like you.”

He frowned, almost in pain, “Please don’t keep mentioning me. I don’t like it.”

The sudden change in his tone surprised her. This was not how she had expected or seen Anshuman. He had suddenly turned bitter. It was not modesty, or an inability to accept appreciation, or feeling awkward at being genuinely praised. It was none of these. Instead, he curtly stopped her from counting him among protectors or heroes. He was not angry. He was briskly dismissive.

She couldn’t fathom this one-eighty degree turn in his attitude. She observed him keenly and said, “What did I say that riled you so much? What happened?”

“Nothing!” he immediately shrugged and nodded to dismiss it, even without letting her say anything more, and added, “I don’t like to talk about it as I am not doing anything significant. Thousands of men and women all over the world are doing it.”

She was not convinced by his reasoning. She kept looking at him. And when she couldn’t decipher even a single expression on his face, she spoke in a disappointed tone, “No. Not a lot of people are doing it and even if they are, I believe that each one of them deserves to be appreciated. But it seems you thought that I praised you because I wanted something from you, or that I was trying to be in your good books. Sorry, but it wasn’t my intention.”

She was miffed at being misconstrued like this. Of all things, she had not expected to be counted as someone clingy or needlessly overawed by him. She twisted her lips, and shrugged, not finding correct words to define what she felt about him. When she didn’t find anything to say, she stood up to go away. She didn’t know where, but Anshuman was sitting so close to her that it unsettled her, and now he seemed to be inclined to misunderstand her. She had barely stood up, even before she could stand straight, he held her hand and jerked her back, with a demanding order, “Sit back.”

“No. I want to go.” She frowned and demanded back. She had no idea why a girl as mature as her, who had started learning about life at a tender age of eight, and who had always been so independent and grown-up, behaved like an adamant kid whenever he talked to her. She had never done that before. Not with anyone else.

It seems he noticed this too. She appeared like a baby to him, when she turned into a slightly stubborn girl, not listening to him most of the times, despite trying her best to obey him. Instead, he found her questioning him and challenging him. Once again, she was doing the same. Counter-replying to him when he ordered her to sit back. Her hand was still in his hand.

He smiled very slightly, though adoringly, and said, “We are not on a picnic. You can’t roam around the terrace.”

“But…” She winced, with a displeased look on her face. Already he had kinda rejected her. On top of that, he was hiding things from her, he was misunderstanding her, he had been lying to her, and now he was ordering her. She didn’t want to sit there and make a fool of herself.

“Do you want to get us killed?” He sighed in a husky whisper, stared at her eyes, straight, and leaned towards her.

She huffed, “You misunderstand everything I say, you don’t reply to my questions, you get annoyed with me… I shouldn’t sit with you and fight with you more…”

She tried to get up again, and he exerted another stronger pull on her hand that was still in his hand. Her leg lost balance and it tripped over a slant where they were sitting, letting her smooth leg graze at the broken floor, at the ankle. She winced in pain. “Ouch!”

Almost instantly, without another moment, he was irked and he scolded her, “Can’t you sit quietly? Why do you become such a baby when you are with me?”

He was not sure why he said that but the gravity of his own words hit him hard. She probably never had anyone close to her before him, with whom she could behave like one. It might have come instinctively to her because he cared so much about her that she had started losing her guards when she was with him. In fact, he ensured that she was so well taken care of, so securely cushioned and protected that it wasn’t even her fault that she had taken slight liberties with him. Maybe she felt close to him. Just like he did.

He bit his lower lip and avoided looking at her when the reality of his words hit him. Instead, he fixed his eyes on her ankle that was now grazed and oozing. With his hands, he dusted away the sand and the gravel from that area. She moved her questioning eyes from her ankle, his hands tending her and then shifted them towards him. She sighed, followed by a soft murmur, “I’m sorry… I… shouldn’t have…”

Once again, almost impulsively, he said, “Don’t say sorry. I want you to behave the way you always do, the way you like, without thinking twice about it.”

“How to do that when someone hates everything I say?”

He took out his kerchief from his trouser pocket and dusted her ankle well before he tied it at her ankle, carefully and expertly, after the wound was cleaned properly. She waited for those few minutes for his reply. His eyes were still on her ankle, with his hands tidying the wound when finally, he replied to her in a low, soft murmur, “Only a stone-hearted brute can hate you.”

Slowly, she let her hand slip over his hand that was on her ankle and enclosed it in both her hands, before tightly pressing it. He didn’t oppose it. She said, “I might not know much about you, but I am sure of one thing – that you are not a stone-hearted brute.”

He curled his fingers around her tiny hand and said, “I may not be able to tell you what I feel. But I can never hate you.”

“I’m fine with that. And now, I don’t even want to listen to what you feel. Your words are not needed, Anshuman.”

“But…”

“If you think words are the only means to convey our feelings, you are mistaken.”

……………………

She could palpate his raging emotions troubling him that he couldn’t control. To add fuel to his fire, she added in a cautious tone, “I don’t care. It doesn’t even matter if I die…”

He replied almost instantly, without thinking, without letting her complete it –

“It DOES matter to ME. And I won’t let anything happen to you, as long as I am alive.”

………………………………………

This one sentence wasn’t just a simple sentence. It had a thousand emotions. It was accompanied by a look on his face that said that he was nervous. He was worried. For her. He was panic-stricken. He was anxious and his sinking heart displayed itself on his face, in his eyes, in the ragged breath that he took. His throat that choked with it told her that their relationship was a bond tying them through an emotion called pain.

The pain that reached her in as raw a form as it originated at his end. The pain that made them aware of each other’s distress more than anything else. If she was ready to die for him, he promised that he could burn the entire world down for her but won’t let even a scratch on her skin.

She wasn’t happy to hear what he said. She was anguished more than she already was. Why was he testing her like this? She wondered. What did he want from her? She could do anything for him. Anything. But he didn’t ask for anything. He never acknowledged that they bonded with each other. For him, nothing existed. Then why couldn’t he leave her alone? Why couldn’t he let her be on her own? Or worse, let her die?

Miffed, and unable to bear the pain that weighed her down, she winced. The pain hurt her so much that she could feel her heart taking each beat and cry in agony with that. Her eyes stared at him straight. In a teary whisper, she asked, “Didn’t you say last night that we will never talk again? Didn’t you ask me to stay away from you?”

He cleared his throat and tore his eyes away, pressing his lips. He had nothing to say to her. A tear dropped from each of her eyes, her throat choked and she bit her lower lip. It seemed as if there was nothing more left to talk. She wiped the tears falling down on her cheeks. If she had to live with them, then she will have to get used to them and get used to hiding them, as she had always done all her life. It was a part of her destiny now because it was no denying that she loved him and loved him too much. And there was nothing she could do about it. She had no idea when she fell so hopelessly in love with him. But the damage was already done.

She sat straight and got up on her feet to stand up and go away. Before she could get up, she felt her elbow grasped in his strong hold. Painfully, she turned her face to look at him. He was angry, once again. He murmured, “Can’t you stay in one place? Why do you have to move around so much?”

“Why do you care?” She softly hissed in an upset tone.

She had spoken in anger but he could sense the shrill, choking voice behind that anger. Even when she had wiped the tears, he could make out how her eyes were moist, how she had just wiped the moisture from her eyes, as her eyelashes were still wet and her face was drawn. As if life wasn’t already gruelling that she had to challenge him further by dropping tears and being sad about things that were not under their control.

He struggled with himself and replied, in a furious tone, almost gritting his teeth, “No, I don’t care about you. It’s just that I can’t allow ANYONE to get killed in my presence.”

She hissed, with her beautiful black doe-eyes on his deep brown ones, “Don’t worry, I won’t get killed. If I was destined to die in this warfare, I would have died the day I witnessed it for the first time, when I was eight years old, the day my baba died. But I didn’t. I was saved to endure this life. I know that I won’t die easily.”

He was shaken when she said that. She had spoken in one go, without taking a break, without even intending to share her pain with him, but her feelings became a deluge which broke all dams to drown everything that came in the way. She hated that she said that. She didn’t want to do it. She didn’t want sympathy. Agonized further, she tried to free her elbow from his hold and tried to move away. But he was firmer and stronger. He didn’t allow her to move.

She winced and frowned and pulled her elbow strongly. He clenched his jaw but didn’t leave her. Instead, his grip tightened and pulled her back. His pull was stronger and she was hauled to land near him. His eyes didn’t leave her face even for a single moment, threatening to tear apart her layers to caress her soul. She didn’t shy away from his eyes, either. She looked straight at him. Clueless. And speechless. What did he want? He couldn’t bear her close to him. He couldn’t even let her go away from him. It was heartbreaking and so distressing.

She moved her eyes on his face but couldn’t read any anger, any hatred for her. He only held concern for her. But he behaved otherwise. As if it was hard to admit that he felt for her more than ANYONE else like he falsely claimed. Why? She didn’t know. She, once again, tried to move away. His fingers, curled around her elbow, refused to relent. She was instinctively drawn towards him but she had to keep her sane mind on her shoulders and she resisted moving towards him. His hand jerked her so softly that she didn’t realize that she was at a hands distance from him.

Softly, on a dry throat, she whispered, “Dr. Shekhawat…”

He didn’t say anything this time. He slightly frowned but kept his lips sealed. She heaved a deep sigh and murmured, “Anshuman…”

“Hmm?” He sighed, knowing very well that he was failing himself, his resolves, his toughness. Why did he even try? As if he had any chance before her compelling softness. As if her eloquent eyes would allow his cold stares to survive. As if the beauty of her agony would allow itself to be smothered by the ruthlessness of his indifference.

She looked at her elbow in his grasp, and said, “You have to let me go!”

“Where?”

“I don’t know. Any place that is away from you.” She couldn’t stop her eyes from welling up, again.

His face couldn’t hide the searing intensity rushing from his eyes to his lips, traversing every troubled crease on his face and reaching back to his eyes as a scorching fire. He said, “I will let you go. But not now. I will leave you at a safe place, myself.”

“Whyyyy???” She whispered, painfully, furiously, desperately, almost on the verge of tears. Since he was distracted, she pulled her hand away in a jerk. She stood up, and started walking away, “I don’t need your favours anymore. It kills me.”

He was very, very angry at this callousness. When he had asked her to lay down and be safe, she had actually stood up and was walking away. Though they were on the terrace. But even a small carelessness on their part could attract unwanted attention both from extremist groups and the army. Since there was nothing clear, there could be indiscriminate firing, killing both of them. How callous can someone be?!

He sprang to his feet the next moment, furiously held her hand, and dragged her smoothly behind the wall where they were hiding before. This wall was separated from the rest of the area and was facing the valley. They were comparatively safer here.

His anger had no bounds by now. He tucked her to the wall with her back plastered to it. He placed his hands on the wall, on each side of her shoulder and almost trapped her. His eyes were almost a burning furnace, smouldering fire at her. With his jaw clenched, he spat fiery words, one at a time, so angrily that she was shaken, “What. Is. Your. Problem?”

She didn’t speak anything. Her terrified eyes stayed locked to his. Softly, she nodded. Wondering if she could simply curl her arms around him and tell him that – ‘All will be well’ – but the thought stayed buried in her heart. She was as hurt as him. Maybe more than him.

He huffed and hissed, almost giving up before her, and spoke in a helpless voice, “Manasvi, why are you making my life more difficult?”

She winced, “What about my life?”

He didn’t reply to her. Instead, his eyes softened, with the most loving look in them. As if he could caress her with just those looks. He sighed, “Your life deserves to be the most beautiful life in this world.”

She couldn’t believe that he just said that. The look in those eyes, for her; the softness in his words; the helplessness in his voice spoke another language that he always tried to hide.

“Beautiful?” She questioned. This one word had a deep question for him.

He said, “At least, I try my best to ensure that.”

“I don’t want your favours, I’ve already told you.”

“Then what do you want?”

His eyes and words toughened again. Knowing very well what she had in her mind. But also knowing that she will not say that. Her heart was beating hard. She knew that it would be shameless and bold to say it in words. But his care, concern, his words, and looks had empowered and encouraged her to do so. She knew that if she didn’t say that, she will never be able to tear through his walls, they might never meet again after they separate from here, maybe Anshuman will begin to avoid her harder than before. Maybe they will never have another chance to be talking like this. She had to have this chance. At least, she would be content that she tried.

“What?” He asked again, leaning ahead, his breath fanning over her cheeks, his hands on the wall by her sides, and his body leaning before her, almost at a hand’s distance.

You. Was almost on the tip of her tongue. But she didn’t say it in words. She simply looked at him with all the love in her heart, with a deep longing in her moist eyes, softly gulped at her throat and heaved a sigh so deeply that it made his heart beat so hard. He could read that ‘you’ in her eyes, even when she didn’t say it.

His face was so close to hers that if any of them moved, they could easily kiss. His eyes drifted from her eyes towards her soft, parted lips and then returned back to her eyes. Overwhelmed, he picked up a thin curl falling on her face and took it behind her ear, but she held his hand and stopped it midway. She didn’t let him tuck that curl behind her ear or touch her. She moved his hand away. He smiled helplessly and straightened himself, removing his hands from the wall and freeing her.

With a deep breath to shrug off the crazy emotions troubling him, he moved away from her, but she wasn’t going to let him get away so easily. Not today.

This time, she held his hand. She curled her fingers at his wrist. He stopped. Looked at her fingers holding his wrist and then looked at her.

He sighed, and spoke, “I have a girlfriend.”

She smiled painfully, “I would have believed that. If you hadn’t said that she was Amanda.”

He took a deep, difficult breath, and stammered, “No… she is…”

“You are lying.” She spoke so confidently that it was enough to shock him and defend himself ferociously.

“No, Manasvi…” He tried to refute her claim as firmly as he could.

She stared at him squarely, showing him that she didn’t believe him, exerting pressure on his wrist, when he tried to be free. This time, she was not ready to leave him. It wasn’t that he didn’t have the strength to jerk his hand away. He could do that but he didn’t. Her hand was too delicate to be jerked away.

“Where is that girlfriend, right now?” She asked, “She didn’t even know where you are…”

“Err… it is a protocol to save yourself… you know…” He fumbled.

She smiled sarcastically and shrugged, “When you saved me from the speeding bus, even that must be protocol, right? You didn’t save her? Your girlfriend?”

He spread his free hand in the air and defended himself, “She is trained… I mean… she could have saved herself…”

Manasvi was infuriated. She left his hand and huffed, “Anshuman, please stop lying… please?”

He folded his hands at his chest and leaned his back at the wall, resting one foot on the wall. With a shrug, he declared that he had given up and she could continue to talk. She turned around to stand facing him, this time, and pressed her lips for a moment, observing him. His face was facing down at the floor while his tongue rolled inside his mouth, scraping his gums.

She said, “Today morning, when we entered the pantry, Amanda didn’t even notice your bad mood, your swollen, and red eyes. She doesn’t know which language is spoken in India. She plans to visit India and asks me to host her, while you and your family could easily do that. You are almost never seen with her. Even on a camp like this, you don’t spend time with her. Instead, every night, you ask me to meet you, at the cliff. At the site of an accident, you instinctively save me, not her. When the terror strikes, she runs towards the escape route and not you. And, you really want me to believe that she is your girlfriend?”

Anshuman tucked his lower lip under his upper teeth and raised his eyes to look at her. Almost apologetic at being caught so unceremoniously. She had tore apart his biggest lie in one sweep.

He sighed, “Sorry.”

“So, I was right?”

He nodded to accept and unfolded his arms to thrust his hands in his trousers pockets.

“Why?” She softly whispered.

He shrugged, “So that you say yes to the divorce without any questions and the process is expedited.”

“You dislike me so much? You don’t even have a girlfriend, but you lied, only to expedite the process?”

“It’s not about like or dislikes. I didn’t even know you, at that time.”

“Then?”

“I just knew that I am married to a girl, only for the sake of documents. Since seven years were over and you could apply for official papers, I thought, it was best to be free of the tangles of a forced bond. Both of us have every right to begin life at a new note, without any shackles of formalities binding us.”

“Formalities?” Her throat choked. Her eyes were nearly hardened. Was she being too impulsive when allowing him a window to her feelings? Was her heart about to be broken, mercilessly?

“That’s what I thought. Our marriage was always a responsibility. A formality.”

………………………………..

Thank you for being patient with me. I’ve finished most of the projects I had set out for, in this break. I will post about them soon.
For now, I won’t come between you and the update 😀 

I hope you all are safe, healthy, and coping well. 

Love you all… a lot…

…………………………………………………..

She grasped his shirt at his shoulders when she was near him, terrified and shaky, and whispered, “Please don’t leave my hand.”

“Trust me.”

…………………………….

He hadn’t expected a reply when he had asked her to trust him. It was an instinctive assurance to alleviate her apprehension. So, he was surprised when almost immediately, she replied, in a soft, barely audible whisper, that he might as well have missed if it wasn’t unintentionally spoken near. his shoulder. She had softly sighed and said, “I do.”

Surprised, he couldn’t lift his eyes off her face, and in the next move, his sinewy arms pulled her up the terrace, in a single sweep. He had crawled backward as he pulled her and so she momentarily rolled near him before she could get a hold of herself.

He removed his hands from her arms, but couldn’t remove his eyes from her exquisitely pretty face; her skin with an unpolluted gleam due to sun rays falling on them; her sharp eyes, jet-black, almond-shaped eyes that looked at him as if they intended to tie him down by those threads they weaved from her to him, only through looks; her black wavy curls of silky hair, escaping from her dupatta like dark clouds playing hide and seek with each other; her lips, parted slightly to draw in labored breaths.

“Are you fine?” He asked, taking his eyes away and pretending to dust his trousers,  reminding himself that it was mannerless to ogle at a female, this unabashedly.

“Hmm!” She nodded, wondering why he felt so awkward looking at her. She was his wife and it was okay to ogle at someone you got married to.

This part of the terrace was above the corridor that was at the end of the fortress before the valley began. The smoke coming from the other far end and the sound of a blast distracted them. The chaos and the commotion refused to die down.

“There…” He held her elbow and directed her towards a higher wall, made in brick, separating this small section from the entire fortress, leading to taller structures and higher terraces connecting the rest of the terrace. It formed a sort of labyrinth. They crawled towards the wall and behind it, “This part looks safe.” He spoke in a hushed whisper and quickly instructed her, “You stay here.”

With that, he immediately turned around to go. Panic-ridden at that, she quickly held his arm, with both her hands circling it and asked in another whisper, “Where are you going?”

The panicking look on her face – the knot between her brows, the dragged, worried creases on her forehead, the pressed lips and eyes squinting as transverse slits – made him want to hold her and console her. Her small, soft hands around his arm could radiate the warmth that he had never imagined that a simple touch could ever convey from one person to another. He nodded softly and said, “I’ll go that side and see what’s going on.” He used his eyes and brows to tell her where he was going.

She nodded frantically, “No! Please don’t go..”

He smiled softly, and whispered, as one would talk to a baby, “Relax. They won’t come here.”

“They might not. But an explosive or a part of it might land here. And… someone may spot you…”

“Manasvi…” He tried to explain, and started speaking.

Before that, she interrupted him in a trembling voice, with fear-laden on her face, “I won’t let you go.”

“But…”

“Then…I’ll come with you.”

He took a deep breath and huffed softly. Then he retracted his foot and his body back, which were already in a position to move. Finally, he sat back, right beside her, leaning himself at the brick wall behind him and face towards the end of the terrace from where they had jumped up, facing a part of the valley and jungle far away, till the eyes could see.

She sighed in relief and folded her knees to hug them close to her chest and rested her chin on the knees. He threw one glance sideways, at her, and rolled his eyes at the hopelessness of the situation they were in.

He huffed, “If I hadn’t met you here, in this camp, didn’t get to talk to you or know more about you… I would have never known…”

“What?”

“That you were so assertive. So-Strongly-Assertive.”

Apologetically, she looked at him and pressed her lips, feeling guilty. Then, she sighed, slowly, “To be honest, even I didn’t know that about myself.”

He appeared restless. He turned towards the side of the constant noise, to assess if he could see something, and spoke, looking at that side, almost urgently, almost scolding her softly, “You know what – I’ll give you a piece of advice. Store this assertion and strength, for better times. We are in a real serious situation, right now. You have absolutely no idea how dangerous, it is…”

She eyed him seriously and questioned him suspiciously, “You’ve been through such serious situations before… also, you are a surgeon…that too, trained for army…you don’t look like such things rattle you up so easily…”

“They don’t… but today…” He stopped speaking. He was still looking at the other side, completely turned towards the distant source of noise, fumes, and gunfire. He was glad that she couldn’t see his face at this time, for he regretted every word he spoke. He shut his eyes tightly, frowned, and pressed his lips.

She didn’t move either. His back was towards her face. But she could read his emotions in the changing tone of his voice. She asked, “Today? What happened today?”

He nodded and huffed, opened his eyes, and said, “Nothing.”

“Dr. Shekhawat…” She touched his arm.

He turned towards her, glared at her, and said, “It’s – Anshuman!” And after a small pause, almost shooting daggers at her, he gritted his teeth, clenched his jaw, and strictly ordered her, “Stay here!”

Without giving her enough time to stop him, this time, he lay down on the floor of the terrace, with his entire body plastered on the surface, and moved ahead, using only his elbows and toes. He was trained and so he was too quick. Within a few seconds, he reached the edge of the terrace on the other side, facing the entrance of the camp. The visibility had reduced due to smoke and fumes as whatever was left of the camp, the tents, the makeshift wards, the machines had caught fire and were up in the flames. He raised his head up to assess the situation – to locate the army and to see if the situation was tensed or under control. Manasvi could only look at him going away and tuck himself to the floor near the edge. Her heart almost leapt to her mouth and she could feel goosebumps on her arms.

Anshuman couldn’t see much due to the fumes. However, the gunfires continued and there appeared an escalation in the situation. He closed his eyes, trying to fight the growing unease inside him. For the first time in his life, he was so worried, so concerned, and so disturbed. He tried to convince himself that it was nothing to do with Manasvi. But couldn’t.

Manasvi observed him and the surroundings for some time, and when he didn’t move for a few minutes, she crawled to reach near him.

He opened his mouth in shock when he saw her there. Annoyed visibly, he said, “Didn’t I ask you to stay there?”

“Didn’t I request you to not go?” She replied in a sweet, low voice, implying that if he didn’t listen to her, then she was not bound to do that either.

He opened his mouth wider in surprise, at her reply, but didn’t speak anything. Instead, he rolled his eyes and swayed his jaw. She tried to peep out of the edge of the terrace.

When he saw her doing this, he almost panicked. He could feel his heart beating hard and he whispered in an urgent, angry voice, “Keep your head low…”

She stretched herself to lay down beside him, with her belly on the floor and kept her head low, taking a deep breath.

“Were you always this stubborn?” He whispered, frowning.

“No. I was assertive, a few minutes back.”

He didn’t want to but couldn’t stop smiling when she said that. He kept his hands on his temple and turned himself to lie on his back this time, looking at the sunny sky, grinning for a moment. She sighed in relief to see him smile.

“Thank God, you smiled. I was so scared to see you angry.”

He stopped smiling and became a little serious. Not angry but concerned, still. He turned his face to her, and asked, “Amazing! This attack, the blasts, and the fire didn’t scare you?”

“Not as much as your anger.” She lay her head on her forearm folded on the floor, turned to him, and said. She was still on her belly and he was turned towards the sky, lying side by side. She said, “Did I complicate the situation for you?”

He took a deep breath, “You should have gone with Amanda, Alex, and Krish… I would have managed to escape.”

“How?” She softly whispered to ask.

He looked around and pointed towards a higher brick wall, “Can you see that wall?”

“Hmm?” She nodded, turning to look at it.

“I would have climbed that wall, jumped to the other side, ran across the entire length of the terrace to the other side, and jumped down to the side where the army is…”

She looked at the wall, around 18-20 feet high, and the possibility of the escape route that Anshuman had just said to tell her that he could have managed.

She kept looking at it for a minute, then slowly she turned to Anshuman and said, “I think, you should go.”

Baffled at what she said, he became angry again. Very angry this time. Spitting fire from his orbs, he almost fought with himself to not blast her. Gritting his teeth, stressing on each word, he said, “I would have done that IF I was alone. I said that to relieve you, to tell you that I would have managed even if you had left. I didn’t need your saving. That DOES NOT mean that I will leave you here and go.”

She observed him getting so angry and felt that it was more than normal concern or responsibility. She could feel the intensity between them despite them not even touching each other. The struggle in his words tore through her heart and the way he lost his cool at the mere mention of her asking him to go, she could palpate his raging emotions troubling him that he couldn’t control. To add fuel to his fire, she added in a cautious tone, “I don’t care. It doesn’t even matter if I die…”

He replied almost instantly, without thinking, without letting her complete it –

“It DOES matter to ME. And I won’t let anything happen to you, as long as I am alive.”

………………………………………

 

He had never expected that she would say ‘this’. Not even in his dreams. Neither did she ever imagine that she would speak like this with anyone. With him!

But such words are not planned and articulated. They just spill out. Like emotions. Like tears. Like an overwhelming surge of a deeply felt pain. The way she didn’t think even for a moment before she ran towards him to ensure that he was safe, was the same way when she professed her thoughts in words to him. She really didn’t care if she had died. And it was the truth that she couldn’t leave him there and go with the evacuating buses. She simply couldn’t.

Bowled over by her stance and her hand on his chest, he realized that he was at a total loss of words. He stood astonished and taken aback, looking at her eyes at a hand’s distance. Her eyes remained locked to him. Her hand refused to move away from his chest. He opened his mouth to say something but didn’t know what he wanted to reply to this, so he wet his dry lips with his tongue and simply sighed. But didn’t speak.

The sound of boots increased as if some people had entered the OT. Anshuman held Manasvi’s hand, the one resting over her chest, and quickly hauled her towards one end of the small room. There was a small creek behind the almirah at the far end. This small space was created between the almirah and the wall of the fortress as the former didn’t fit in that small space. So it was kept at a distance from the wall. Anshuman signaled Manasvi to that space. She slowly stepped inside. He followed her. Only after he entered, they realized that the space was too small for the two of them. They were so close to each other that they could almost hear each other breathe. Her heart was beating hard, her fingers trembling at the idea of a possibility of a face-off with some extremists. He could hear the blood pounding in his brain, thinking of what he was going to do if they were caught, kidnapped, taken away, or maybe, killed.

This smaller room was used to store OT materials, sterile gauzes, oxygen cylinders, instruments, and spare articles to be used during an operation. The staff had quickly removed as many machines and surgical material as possible and loaded them in the evacuating buses. Anshuman had been helping people and instruments to be removed from Op and post-op ward when the sound of boots startled him. He rushed others to run away but got stuck as the sounds increased. He had no idea how he was going to evade the attackers when he saw Manasvi running inside the corridor. For a moment, his heart had leaped to his throat at that. He had pulled her in to save her but the seconds that passed before that were enough to tell him that he could do anything to save her. Even if it meant, facing the attackers and fighting with them.

The sounds of footsteps neared them as if someone had crossed the entire length of the OT and entered this small room. Manasvi squeezed her eyes frightfully. Anshuman placed his hand over her mouth, signifying that she was not supposed to make any sound. She nodded, in an attempt to tell him that she understood and won’t make any noise. Anshuman looked at her terrorized face, the sweat beads lacing her forehead, her troubled breaths, her closed eyes, and eyebrows puckered in the center. In the next moment, he drew her in his arms and tightly hugged her. She moved her hands at his shoulders and hugged him back, hoping a leash over her racing heartbeats.

The footsteps stopped at their room for a moment. Someone shouted to others, “No one is here. Go to the other side.”

In hardly one minute, the footsteps receded and people marched away. It was silence all over again. Anshuman waited for this minute before he realized that he had been holding Manasvi in his arms. She pressed her lips too and softly moved a step away from him. Without making it any more awkward for both of them, he slightly turned and peeped from behind the almirah.

There was no one. He turned his neck to look at her. She raised her brows to ask if they should move out. He nodded to refuse and leaned his back at the wall with a sigh. Clueless, she waited for his call to this situation. He leaned sideways towards her and whispered near her ears, “We should wait for some time before going out.”

She nodded to agree and turned to the side that he was – back at the wall and facing the almirah. She leaned her back at the wall too.

After a minute’s pause, they could hear more blasts outside, with the smell of burnt material increasing, fumes coming in through the window, and guns firing in a row. He slipped his hand in her hand, well aware of what she was going through, and dragged her out of the creek.

“Let’s go. There is firing outside. That means no one is inside.”

“But where will we go?” She whispered, “The buses have already left.”

“To any safe place…” He wondered aloud and made a dash through the OT. She followed him. Scared and nervous.

They crossed the corridor taking careful steps in a direction opposite to that of the sounds of commotion. The corridor ended in an open space. Anshuman tucked his back to the wall and peered into the open space. There was no one. He could see only the broken walls and the cliff by which they would sit at nights. He scratched his stubbled jawline using his index finger and chewed the inner part of his lower lip, carefully thinking what to do next.

“What happened?” She asked, hopefully looking at him as if she had left all her answers to him. He could take the call and she would simply follow.

“There is no one there. But we can’t take chances. We can run through this area and hope for the army to save us but it will be a blind bet. If we come across an extremist group, or between the tussle, we will be immediately killed.” He was worried, looking all through the corridor, rooms created to manage makeshift wards, extensions.

“Then what? Staying here, is as risky as going out.” She whispered.

He looked up, at the last threshold of the corridor, and said, “We’ll go to this part of the terrace, immediately above this corridor. The fight is going on in the outer area. They won’t come to the terrace.”

She nodded, thankfully, “Okay. Let’s go. Where are the stairs?”

He rolled his eyes and nodded as if she had asked a silly question and he didn’t even want to answer it. He stepped ahead, reached the threshold, checked the outer area once again, and then stood straight to determine the height of the terrace. It was very high. Even with his height of six feet and two inches, it was significantly higher. He raised both his hands up, straight and tried to reach it. It was still much above him.

Manasvi was observing him doing this with her eyes split wider than they already were, with a flustered, worried look on her face, and shock in her eyes. She couldn’t believe what he was doing. Anshuman didn’t give her much time to think and ask questions. He quickly jumped down the threshold, brought two pieces of brick, keeping them at the end, stepped over with one of his foot on the brick, rested the other on the wall nearby and jumped upwards with both his hands towards the terrace and was able to get to the edge of the slab in one go. The very next moment, his feet rested on the wall and he pulled himself up the terrace.

Manasvi had never seen someone so swift, so fit, and so confident. He didn’t even think, even for once that he could fall or not reach the top. He just gave it a shot and did it. And such a smooth slide. Her saliva was stuck in her throat as her mouth went dry. She quickly reached the edge and looked up, worrying, “You were trained for army. I was not… I can’t do that stunt.”

This made him smirk, very slightly. The situation they were in, right now, was scary and unfortunate and funny in its own way. Out of the entire world, these two had to remain stuck with each other. He pressed his lips to suppress the smirk and sighed with a soft whisper, “Add to that, your height!!”

She frowned as any reference to her height didn’t amuse her. She squeezed her eyes laterally and looked up at him with an annoyed pout. In another moment, her irritation turned into worry, again, when he lay down at the edge of the terrace, with his shoes tucked in the wall of the parapet, and lowered himself on the reverse, upside-down up to his waist with both his hands towards her and said, “hold me.”

She stepped up the bricks, and held the wall for balance before stretching to reach for his hands. When he grasped her hands in his own, he pulled her up with all her might. She was not sure if they will be able to manage it as she was scared of hurting him. She didn’t want him to fall because of her. She held his hands very strongly before he slipped his hands further and held her forearms, slowly snaking him backward on the terrace. He was confident because he was on the terrace up to his torso by now. But she was still terrified. She was in the air completely dependent on him and had nothing to hold on to, except him or support him in some way.

His eyes turned to her terrified face and stayed there for the sheer vulnerability of the moment. She was so delicate and soft that the only thought he had at that moment was that he wanted to protect her from all troubles, pain, and turmoils. Softly, he sighed –

“Don’t be scared. We are almost there.” He pulled her further up.

She grasped his shirt at his shoulders when she was near him, terrified and shaky, and whispered, “Please don’t leave my hand.”

“Trust me.”

…………………………….

I’m overwhelmed with the response to the last update. God bless you all for writing such positive and encouraging words. They make me feel blessed and motivated to write more.
Thanks and lots of love to all of you.

I’ve replied to most, but I apologize if someone was left as I did my best with the time I could squeeze in. My gratitude towards all of you shall stay forever.

Stay blessed. Stay safe.

…………………………………

He cupped her face in his hands and searched her eyes for an unspoken communication with her. But all he could see in those eyes were tears laden with terror, anxiety, and worries. He sighed and whispered –

“Trust me. I will never let anyone harm you.”

…………………………………

Speechless, she couldn’t blink her eyes. She simply peered into his eyes to see how his words stood in sharp contrast with his actions and how his eyes remained a mute spectator to the tug of war between the two. They wouldn’t take sides. Yet, they declared how deeply he cared about her and could do anything to save her. There was an unspoken, disquieted fear on his face. Fear for ‘her’ well-being.

Her lips trembled. But she could speak nothing. She was in his arms and for a small moment, it felt like there was no world beyond them. The chaos, the blasts, the cries, the worries – nothing existed anymore.

He noticed how shaken she had been, and he softly asked, “Are you fine?”

She sighed and nodded to affirm, “Yeah.”

Amanda came running from the other side and broke this surreal moment between them. She quickly asked, “Hey, Manasvi! Are you okay?”

Manasvi nodded and didn’t reply. As if Anshuman was jolted out of a trance-like state, he quietly left her and stepped aside. His expressions, attitude, body language changed as Amanda arrived. Before Manasvi could notice more, Anshuman had completely left her and walked away, instructing them, “Amanda, Manasvi, go back to the base. I’ll be back.”

Amanda held Manasvi’s hand and asked, “You look shocked?”

Manasvi’s eyes were on Anshuman who had gone to the back of the maternity ward to check for more patients and nursing staff. She murmured, in a confused tone, “I’m fine. But…”

“What?” Amanda started walking towards the base, with her hand holding Manasvi’s hand.

“Anshuman?” Manasvi asked her, unwilling to go with her. Her heart, mind, soul, everything was with Anshuman.

Amanda insisted to walk away and said, “Don’t worry about him. He is used to dealing with these attacks and emergencies. He was trained for the Indian Army, so he knows how to protect himself and protect others too.”

Manasvi followed Amanda, half-heartedly. They reached the base where people were collecting and Krish, Alex, and other doctors, along with the rest of the staff were helping the patients. Manasvi made people comfortable, especially the ones who were injured but her eyes were stuck on the entrance of the base of the fortress, waiting for Anshuman.

Suddenly, she stood up, worried and nervous, almost on the verge of tears, “Oh God!”

“What happened?” Amanda was near her. The rest of the staff and doctors and Krish were away.

“My birth certificate! It is in my bag, at the tent.” Manasvi was stammering by now, too worried to be coherent.

“Oh crap!” Amanda sighed, “It must be burnt by now.”

Manasvi made a dash towards the exit, saying, “I’ll check.”

Amanda didn’t get much time to stop her, as Manasvi didn’t give her much time to tell her not to go.

………………………………….

Anshuman removed the burnt pieces of the tent towards one side by using the half-burnt bamboo sticks used for setting the tent. He had located Manasvi and Amanda’s tent by counting the number of tents from the beginning. Their tent was fourth from the beginning and his tent was fifth.

He was not worried by passport, certificates, visa of his team as they stayed safely deposited with the PBB authorities at the airport. Inside a country, they had to face such attacks and emergencies, so they only managed with PBB Identity card and that stayed hanging on their neck.

But Manasvi’s bag had her birth certificate. He picked the edge of her burnt ‘charpoy’ of the bed and pulled out the burning bag from below it, by bare hands. Quickly, he dusted it to stop it from burning. Thankfully, the outer surface of the bag was a thick, sturdy material and didn’t catch so much fire that it could burn the inner contents of the bag. He unzipped it and found the inner contents safe, mainly her diary and her birth certificate. He stood up, and turned around to leave the charred remains of the tent but was startled to see Manasvi there.

She was standing with a clearly evident frown on her face. One single expression holding numerous questions for him. One look on her face and in her eyes, that asked him – ‘Why?’

He became nervous at that look from her. He pressed his lips and cleared his throat, trying hard not to meet her eyes. But it became increasingly impossible. Finally, to divert her attention, he raised the bag towards her and spoke casually, “Err, I just came to check my belongings, so I thought I will check your bag too. Your birth certificate is safe.”

She took the bag from his hands, not leaving the sight of his eyes. He was glad that she didn’t say anything. She didn’t counter-question him about anything, she didn’t accuse him, nor did she remind him of anything that he had said to her to stay away from him but was taking care of her instead.

She simply took the bag in her hand and when she didn’t say anything, he crossed past her to leave that area. When he was crossing her, she held his wrist to stop him. Not expecting this touch, he stopped. Dumbfounded, he looked at their hands. She turned his hand to see his palm that was black now. She took the edge of her dupatta to wipe off the ashes and black soot from his hand. He grimaced slightly, not making it evident that his hand was slightly burnt. When the black particles were removed, she could see the scratches and reddened palm, which was hurt.

He quickly dismissed it, “It’s a slight burn. Nothing to worry.”

She bit her lower lip and looked at him in apprehension. Her heart had leaped to her mouth on having to see his burn, his pain, his dedication.
He smiled casually, “It’s nothing. Forget it.” Saying that he retrieved his hand from her hand and walked away, leaving her fighting with the huge rock on her chest that neither let her breathe properly nor let her heartbeat in sync with her mind. It just pained hard at the left of her chest and she wished she could get rid of this feeling which made her feel helplessly aware of ‘his’ pain.

Manasvi came back to the base of the fortress, with her bag in her hand. The entire area was in a state of commotion as some people were hurt and bleeding. Some women were crying because their kids were hurt.

Two more blasts happened, making everyone nervous. Manasvi was very anxious for Anshuman as he hadn’t come till now. Amanda was taking care of a small baby in a woman’s hand, and Manasvi was consoling the woman when Krish came towards them and said, “The Afghan army is on its way to rescue us. The PBB camp cannot continue here, anymore.”

Amanda nodded solemnly, “It always happens like that. A goodwill camp serving humanity is disrupted so mercilessly and we have to shift.”

Krish said, “That is what the extremists want. If the relief work continues without any break then their efforts to shake the system will be wasted. Moreover, an attack on international organizations will embarrass their own govt. So they won’t let go of this chance.”

Amanda nodded to agree, “I know.”

Manasvi listened to both of them. But she didn’t feel like adding any of her own inputs. Her views were more or less same as Krish. Alex and one other doctor joined them. They made people arrange in several queues so that there was no stampede or commotion while evacuation.

PBB owned a few buses used to transport patients and staff and necessary equipment of surgery and sterilization. Along with the tent material and safety equipment needed by doctors. A few jeeps and gypsy were also there. More buses were arranged from the nearby towns and Jalalabad city. Anshuman came running inside and got them to board the buses one by one.

Manasvi heaved a sigh of relief when she saw Anshuman back. Only for a fraction of a second, their eyes met, simply to ensure that the other was safe. Manasvi helped Amanda and Krish was with Alex, with Anshuman guiding them to help the patients and other paramedical staff board the buses.

As the Afghan police force and army arrived and counter-fired at the assaulting groups, the attacks reduced. The buses moved with Alex in first, Krish in second accompanying the seriously injured patients. Krish was far off. He searched for Manasvi as the bus moved and waved to her to join them. Manasvi waved back and said, “Don’t worry… I’ll come with Amanda.”

Amanda was with the women and small kids, making them comfortable in a bus. Manasvi turned around to find Anshuman. He was with the patients that he had operated on and made them sit inside another bus till it was filled. Amanda and Manasvi got down to bring some children and when Manasvi made the kids sit in the bus and got down, she found Amanda running towards the bus. In the way, she held Manasvi’s hand and said, “Run! I saw some extremists on foot. They have guns. Let’s leave.” She signalled the bus driver to start the buses and called Manasvi as she ran towards the bus, “Come, the Afghan army will take care.”

“But… Anshuman…,” Manasvi was terribly worried and she turned all-around to locate Anshuman but she couldn’t see him till far. The last buses started moving. And all she could see was army officers running ahead, the police cordoning the area to counter-attack the extremists, the patients and doctors had all moved out and there were only officers in olive and brown uniforms, with guns in their hands, and dust storms blinding their eyes.

“Anshuman will manage.” Amanda said and ran towards the bus to ride it. There were 2 more buses behind it. Amanda’s bus started going away. She didn’t even think about her next move. She just knew that Anshuman was missing and she couldn’t go. Instead of boarding a bus, Manasvi ran in the opposite direction towards the base of the camp, the broken fort where she had last seen Anshuman going. She had been trying to keep track of him and she didn’t remember seeing him leaving that area. He was probably trapped inside.

She ran away before anyone could notice her or stop her. She ran faster. Almost under a magnetic influence, drawing her towards Anshuman.

With all her might, she ran towards the fortress and rode the stairs. Thankfully, she met neither the extremists nor the army men, who were on the backside of the fort now. She entered the fortress and ran through the empty corridor, hoping to turn towards the Operation theatre when she heard the sound of boots coming towards the corridor. She could see no-one, but even the synchronized sound of boots of men running was scary.

She almost froze and stood still at her place with her feet stuck on the ground. The very next moment, Anshuman appeared from nowhere, held her arm, and dragged her inside the makeshift OT. She was stunned as her mouth went dry. It seemed like he was sent on earth to be her saviour, she thought.

He quickly dragged her to a smaller room inside the OT and tucked her to the wall behind the door, with his arms securing her between him at her front and the wall behind her. Terrified, she held him for support.

Anger dripped in his reddened eyes as he strongly restrained her to the wall and stared at her as if he would tear through her skin with his eyes. He reprimanded her, but in a strong, very very angry whisper, “Are you brainless? What are you doing here?”

She had been trembling in fear a moment ago, but when he pulled her, she sighed in relief at the same time, on seeing him safe, and on seeing him with her. There was nothing to worry about when she had Anshuman with her.

“You could have died?” He continued to scold her, angrily. She could see how disturbed and anxious, he was. She delicately rested her hand on his chest and whispered in a soft, worried, helpless voice –

“I don’t care. But I couldn’t leave you here.”

……………………………………

I keep mentioning my other site and new manan fic as there are many people who were busy for the last few days and have no clue about the new manan fic. 

Words fall short when I want to communicate my gratitude towards all of you for your love, your patience, your encouragement, and support for my stories – each motivates me to better myself and learn more and to be able to write more.

Hope all is well at your end. Stay home. Stay safe.

Love you all.

………………………….

“Dr. Anshuman Shekhawat, you are yet to hear what I haven’t spoken.”

Anshuman had never seen her speaking so strongly.  He waited for her to continue. Dumbstruck and stunned.

Manasvi’s hand was still on his arm, restraining him without any pressure, without any force. A simple, subtle touch was enough to tell him that he had to stand there and listen to her. Anshuman obeyed that unspoken gesture. Now waiting for what more she had to say.

She heaved a deep breath and declared, “You are NOT going anywhere on my behalf, Dr. Shekhawat. And that’s final. I ‘cannot’ allow you to do so… Since you don’t allow me to unravel any part of your world.”

He swayed his jaw slightly. Shaken by her claims to be able to palpate his anguish, his pain, his turmoils, he couldn’t imagine being interpreted more by her. More than she had already done. He had to stop her speculations right at the inception. He tried to refute, yet again, “There is nothing to unravel at my end…”

But she interrupted him, “Allow me to feel the same…”

“Manasvi…” He used his heavy voice, husky tone, intense eyes, and a firm posture to dissuade her. But she was not someone to be deterred or intimidated so easily. She had stood rock-solid before all the ordeals her destiny had to bring to her. And Anshuman was not even an ordeal. In fact, far from that.

He was a soothing breeze of fresh air that gently touched her to ease her pain and alleviate her distress. He was her saviour and angel. How could she be discouraged when it came to supporting him when he needed her the most. He might not believe that or accept it, yet. But she knew that no sequence of words and events that made sense when it came to him. He was clearly hiding something. And she needed to know that part of his secrets that he wasn’t comfortable with. His attempts to discourage her were not going to work.

She removed her hand from his arm and took her hand back to herself to fold it across her chest. She challenged him, “You want to go?… You can go! But you can’t stop me from coming behind you.”

He huffed, evidently struggling with himself, yet again. Moving his jaw to a side, almost rolling his eyes, he shot a fiery glance at her. Then, on a sudden impulse, he stepped closer to her and held both her arms right below her shoulders. Almost squeezing them under the pressure of his palms. The grip of his hands clutching her arms, shocking her, less by the grasp and more by the squeeze as unknowingly, unintentionally, she was dragged close to him and his face was inches away from her. She could see each muscle on his face tightening, clearly highlighting the lines of demarcation of his facial features. His nostrils were flared and his eyes flashed a searing fire to burn her soul if she continued to look into them. She was not scared, because he was not angry. He was constantly, consistently fighting with himself. And clueless about what he wanted from her.

Finally, he whispered, spitting fire with every word he spoke in a husky, gruff baritone, “We will not talk again. Stay away from me.”

This was the defining moment that confirmed to her, for sure, how deeply and helplessly she was in love with him. All her ‘different feelings’, care, concern, deep-seated emotions, thoughts for Anshuman, found a proper name today – love!

For there was no other reason for her to be unintimidated by his tough stance and rude words to deter her. No other chance that she would have allowed him to try to scare her and yet stay unperturbed by his unsettling demeanour. No other motivation to look beyond his roughness and feel the pain he was going through. To see what lay beyond his screen he had erected for the world, wearing a farce of a layer to communicate with others on a superficial level hiding every fire inside him, simmering and scathing him.

Even after his attempt to strictly disconnect from her, she knew that she will never be able to stay away from him. Her soul could rip apart all his layers and see another vulnerable soul hurting because of something that he couldn’t share with anybody else. She wished she could hug him right away and wrap her tiny, tender arms around his torso to assure him that she will stay with him, no matter what came before them. She will never leave his side. She will always support him, and will keep waiting for him to share himself with her. And even when he didn’t speak anything… she would still wait!

For she was in love…unconditionally, irrevocably, and undeniably…
Deep in love.
With Anshuman.

It made her eyes well with her tears. He was moved to see her moist eyes and almost feeling guilty, he left her. She sighed. Despite feeling otherwise, she didn’t want to force him, push him, and thereby overwhelm him.

She whispered, “As you say! I will stay away from you.”

She turned around to leave, instead of making a show of her overflowing emotions before him. He stood flabbergasted, watching her take the narrow path towards their tents. He took a deep ragged breath and ran both his hands in his hair to push them away backward, and let the hands slide down and stay at the nape of his neck, joined together at the back, wondering why he lost his normal, stable, conscious composure when he was with Manasvi. Why she had the ability to shake him so deeply that he stepped out of his highly practiced tranquility and felt a raging wave of emotions when she talked to him. Why he let go of his self-control and reacted in a way that he would have never done with anyone else challenging him.

Only Manasvi possessed this weird control over the strings of his mind that he was unable to keep the poised equanimity that he practiced religiously before the rest of the world.

…………………………………

Manasvi came back to her tent. Amanda was deep in sleep, by now. Without making any noise, Manasvi lay down over her bed and couldn’t stop tears from rolling down on her cheeks. She couldn’t sleep for the entire night. The solemn vow to focus on the future had dived in a pool of darkness. There was no future anymore, to focus on. Her past had rushed ahead of her in the race for survival and met her future, blurring the present, as well.

She had realised very late that Anshuman was her past, present, and future. All. And he didn’t want her near him.

Anshuman lay on his bed looking at the ceiling of the tent and waiting for the night to end. The feeling of guilt that he had misbehaved with Manasvi, in an attempt to keep her away, and hurting her in the process, didn’t let him sleep. Added to that, was Manasvi’s overpowering effect on him, her ability to tear through the image he maintained carefully, and her confidence that she would break through this image.

‘Did her effort to read him, scare him?’ He asked himself. He didn’t know. But he was sure of one thing – That she was the only one who had the ability to do this!

‘Why?’ He still didn’t know that.

………………………….

Next morning.

The day began as usual. Amanda got ready for work and Manasvi accompanied her to sit with her today because she was not sure if Anshuman was going to allow her to be with her today after the tension that had erupted between them last night.

They left their tent to go to a central facility where tea was served every day with a basic breakfast of toast and boiled eggs. When Amanda and Manasvi entered the make-shift pantry, they found Krish and Alex having tea, talking to other doctors and paramedical staff. Right at the entrance, they found Anshuman leaving the tent. He was generally faster and non-communicative than others. It meant, he never sat and wasted time, gossiping, or chit-chatting with others over tea or meals. He quickly finished his basic meals at all times and left before everyone else. No one actually cared about that because they knew him well. So, Dr. Anshuman was usually not expected to socialize or chat around during free times.

When Anshuman met them at the entrance, Amanda’s face lit up and she flashed a wide smile to greet him for a good morning. Manasvi noticed that he was not even looking at his ‘supposed girlfriend’. In fact, his eyes were on her. His reddened eyes, slightly swollen, probably due to lack of sleep at night were fixed on Manasvi. He didn’t smile. He didn’t change any expression on his face. Instead, only Manasvi could perceive the very slight, subtle clenching of his jaw. She looked at him squarely and even she didn’t speak anything to him.

Amanda said, “Good morning, Anshuman!”

“Morning!” He spoke as if in a trance and moved sideways to go out, “Excuse me!”

Amanda observed him going out, and shrugged, “What happened to him?”

Manasvi shrugged too and commented, “Isn’t he always like that?”

Amanda twisted her lips and rolled her eyes, “Hmm. Yeah, maybe! Avoid him on such days. Stay with me in the maternity ward, today.”

Anshuman heard this while Amanda carelessly joked about avoiding him on difficult days. He really hoped that Manasvi followed Amanda’s advice about avoiding him.

Manasvi was both confused and surprised as Amanda walked in nonchalantly and joined Krish and Alex for the breakfast while cracking jokes with them. Manasvi wondered how Amanda was clueless about Anshuman’s swollen eyes and tensed look on his face and how easily she believed that he was always like that. While Amanda was chatting with Alex, Krish was thrilled to have her as a company. Manasvi found herself disinterested in their conversation. She wished she could follow Anshuman and be with him, and maybe, stand quietly beside him while he worked, whether he talked to her or not.

She found her mind struggling to keep Anshuman away from her and followed Amanda for morning rounds in the maternity ward. Alex and Anshuman went to their OPD tents examining patients turn by turn. Krish was recording the experiences of the nursing staff and new patients for the next few hours.

Suddenly, in the middle of the day, they heard a loud noise at a distance from their camp. Shocked, Alex and Anshuman ran out of their tents and found the patients running for cover towards the brick-walled broken fortress. Krish and the nursing staff helped the patients to follow a path so that they didn’t cause a stampede.

“What happened?” Alex asked.

Krish replied, “Seems like an attack at the camp.”

It was an air-strike. In the next moment, there were two more blasts destroying the tents they used to sleep at night. Krish, Alex, the nursing staff, the paramedical staff, the managers, the patients, everyone ran for cover at the base of the camp as that was a big fort and they hoped to be protected under it. The loud noise, the cries, the dust rising from people’s shoes as they ran around, the chaos all over, and the confusion in the air – suddenly transformed a peaceful place of healing into a war-zone.

Anshuman was worried about Manasvi and Amanda as they were missing in the crowd. Soon, he saw them coming out of the maternity ward, helping a few patients get in the buses managed by PBB, to be taken to another facility before any serious complication happened to them. He nearly sprinted towards them and joined them in helping pregnant women and young kids get inside two big buses. Thankfully, there were only 14 women admitted that day. Once they were sent off, he asked them to go to the base and turned back to check if anyone was left in the ward.

Amanda and Manasvi turned around the buses to cross the road to the base fort when a big bus took a fast turn to that lane, suddenly out of nowhere. Anshuman was far and was startled by the noise. He could see the bus approaching fast on the road between the base and the ward, tearing through the dust storm.

He quickly dashed towards both of them and shouted loudly, “Amanda, run!”

He had shouted Amanda’s name to alert her because he had already grasped Manasvi’s hand to haul her towards him. He didn’t need to alert Manasvi. Manasvi was shocked by the sudden pull. Anshuman curled his arms around her tightly to secure her and rushed to take several steps backward to clear the road. She followed. Amanda was timely alerted and she ran to the other side of the road, thereby saving herself.

The bus came to the screeching halt. The driver jumped down and apologized profusely to Amanda, who was in a state of shock herself. Then, he came around to Anshuman and Manasvi and apologized to them, as well. The commotion was so profound that no one scolded him. Anshuman just nodded and dismissed him before the guy left.

A moment later, Anshuman realized that Manasvi was tightly clutching the lapels of his shirt within her trembling fingers and had hidden her face in his chest. Her warm, irregular breaths on his chest told him that she was terrified. He placed his hand on her head and said, “Don’t worry. You are safe.”

She pressed her lips tightly and looked up at him. He cupped her face in his hands and searched her eyes for an unspoken communication with her. But all he could see in those eyes were tears laden with terror, anxiety, and worries. He sighed and whispered –

“Trust me. I will never let anyone harm you.”

…………………………………

I have started updating Fire & Ice and Love, Lies, etc. on my other blog where I post Manan fics. 

Thank you for all the love and motivation that makes me speechless all the time. 

Stay blessed. Stay safe. Love you people 🙂

……………………….

Post dinner, Manasvi sat on her bed and opened her diary to fill in the missing details that she had forgotten to enter through the day or the ones that she had made a mental note of, to enter them later.

She read again, all that she had written, and was pretty satisfied at the way the story about the working of PBB was shaping up. In the evening, she and Krish had spent some time comparing notes, discussing pictures, and mutually decided that it was not enough to talk about PBB in a single story in The Insight. It deserved a series. And so, a short series of 8-10 episodes was decided on.

Manasvi had talked to the staff of the paramedical and the nursing department in the evening, asked them about the problems they faced, their motivation to join PBB, and their families and different countries of origin. It was surprising that not only the doctors, like Anshuman, Amanda, Alex, and a few other doctors, even the nursing people were from various countries from all across the globe. She asked them more about the dressing material and how to examine the wound and when to call the doctor. Her quest to learn would resurface every time she imagined herself helping someone in need. Learning from these people and Anshuman had renewed her respect for their work.

Her mind drifted to think about Anshuman who must have been waiting for her near the cliff. He had said that he will wait for her. Manasvi’s heart was beating hard when she recalled how he had leaned forwards and asked her to be there at night.

How could she go?

When every interaction, every look from him stirred the deepest feelings inside her and made them sway towards him. No matter how hard she avoided, she found herself thinking about him subconsciously. Whether he had eaten, what he was doing at that time, what he thought about her, whether he knew that she was trying hard to avoid him. She had to maintain her dignity and stay away from him for he had a girlfriend whom he was intending to marry.

Manasvi looked up at Amanda who was sitting on her bed and was reading a book about the history of Afghanistan. Amanda noticed Manasvi looking at her and asked, “Hey, Manasvi, you are here for your documents and birth certificate, right? So you are basically Afghan? Do you remember anything about your early life?”

‘A lot.’ Manasvi thought. She remembered a lot of the scary, gory details of the trauma she had faced. But every time she thought about it, her heart was filled with a seething pain. Every time she remembered it, she wondered if it could have been avoided. If there was anything that could have been done at that time to evade the sorrow she had endured.

Time had taught her a lot and one of the biggest lessons she had learnt was to avoid discussing her personal life with people she didn’t know well. One detail would lead to another discussion and probing, which she had neither the strength nor inclination for. She didn’t want to create more complications in her life than there already were. Nor she wanted to tell Amanda how she and Anshuman were related. So the best answer that she had maintained for her entire life, for everyone, was –

“Not much. I was very young at that time.”

“Oh!” Amanda was disappointed, “I was hoping to know more about this country from you.”

‘This is so weird. She knows that Dr. Shekhawat knows me for many years and he was the one to make arrangements for my stay here. But she doesn’t want to know the details about our families to get a clue about him. Instead, she wants to know about Afghanistan.’

Manasvi smiled, and replied, “Sorry.”

“Oh, that’s fine!” Amanda shrugged, “I was just inquisitive. Customs here are so different.”

“Aren’t they different, everywhere?”

“Yup. You are right. People are the same everywhere but the customs they follow are so different. That is defined mainly by territory. Even India fascinates me. But I don’t know about the customs there. I’m sure you can tell me about India, at least.”

“India is diverse. We don’t have one set of customs and traditions across the country. They vary from one region to another, one state to another, one religion to another. India is home to several different cultures and sects. Even the languages are different.”

“You mean to say, you don’t speak ‘Indian’?” Amanda rolled her eyes.

For the first time, Manasvi laughed, “No. There is no such language called – Indian.”

Amanda flared her eyes wide, followed by her mouth opened in surprise before she asked, “But I always thought that they speak ‘Indian’ language in India, like French in France, German in Germany, Spanish in Spain… likewise.”

This time, Manasvi laughed more, “Who told you that?”

“I don’t know. I must have read somewhere.”

“No, that is wrong. There are different languages spoken in different states and then so many sectorial languages that are spoken in a particular region only. It cannot be compared to France, Germany or Spain, because in other countries, there is one predominant language, religion, culture, cuisine, and customs. India is different because of its diversity. You cross 200 miles and every time you find a different language, culture, food cuisine, and traditions.”

Amanda had her eyes sparkling, “Wow!! Amazing… after all this is over, I want to visit India, once. Will you host me there and take me around?”

Manasvi was surprised. She didn’t even know Amanda well. Why would she ask her to host her and take her around, when she had a boyfriend in India. Manasvi just shrugged, and smiled sweetly, “Sure.”

Amanda closed her book and slipped inside her duvet, closing her eyes, “Good night, Manasvi.”

“Good night!” Manasvi whispered and lay down too. She didn’t want to meet Anshuman. She had told him that she won’t be there.

‘But this is not some random guy who is trying to mess with me and has asked me to meet him. He is Dr. Shekhawat. And he has asked me to be there to talk to him. He will wait.’

Manasvi stepped down the bed and wore her dupatta, wrapping it around herself and placing it over her head. Without making any noise, she left the tent to go to the end of the fortress towards the cliff.

Anshuman was standing there, leaning by the broken wall, facing the valley throwing stones, one by one, down the cliff. When he heard the sound of footsteps behind him, he turned. One look at Manasvi and a warm smile swam on his lips.

As if, it wanted to remind her about her declaration that she won’t come. As if, it displayed how he was confident that she would be there.

‘Strange. Instead of waiting for his girlfriend and talking to her after the hard day’s work, he is standing alone and waiting for me. Or, maybe, Amanda is not his girlfriend, like Krish said, and Dr. Shekhawat’s girlfriend is someone else… maybe at New York, his base hospital. Or maybe, in some other country…’

“You are late.” He said.

“I was talking to Amanda.” She deliberately took her name to see the reaction on Anshuman’s face. There was none. He was as nonchalant as other times. Manasvi slightly probed, “Dr. Shekhawat, you had said that you wanted to get divorced because you had a girlfriend whom you wanted to propose marriage to.”

“Hmm.” Anshuman didn’t say anything else. He simply looked at her face wondering why she was asking this.

“Is Amanda that girlfriend?” She asked innocently, with a sweet smile on her face, trying her best not to make it appear like an interrogation. It was more like a simple doubt.

He cleared his throat, without changing any expression on his face, and wet his dry lips taking them inside his mouth and said, “Yeah. She is the one.”

The confession was like a stab pierced through her heart but Manasvi was used to enduring pain of every kind and knew how to rise above them. She hated herself for asking this and getting more into the murk but she couldn’t avoid it and so she feigned another subtle smile and asked, “Since how many years you are together?”

“Many years. Since college time.” Anshuman didn’t really appear interested in answering her about Amanda. And he knew exactly how to cut off unnecessary inquiries. Before Manasvi could ask anything else, he said, “I don’t really appreciate anyone talking about Amanda.”

Manasvi immediately felt guilty, “I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”

“It’s okay.”

“Sorry again. And you can shut me up whenever you feel I’m crossing the line by asking more.”

He turned to her and observed her for a long moment. She held a distinctly disappointed frown on her face as she folded her arms across her chest and looked down at the dusty gravel on the ground. She was upset and she was clearly regretting that she asked him about Amanda.

He rolled his eyes and asked in a low, compassionate tone, “Was I rude?”

“No. You are justified. I was being too nosy. Sorry.”

“For one disapproval, how many ‘sorry’s do you speak in general?”

“As many as it takes to dilute the mistake.”

“How about saying not even a single sorry? Instead, saying – ‘I asked what I wanted to ask. I stand by it. If you don’t want to answer, that’s up to you. It’s okay if you don’t reply but that won’t stop me from asking’… how about this?”

She raised her eyes and looked at him, nearly stunned and speechless. He was still looking at her, with an assuring look in his eyes.

“Manasvi, you don’t need to apologize for everything you do. Apologize when you hurt someone or believe that you were wrong. Don’t apologize for asking questions or having an opinion.”

“Even if it hurts someone?” She asked.

“Hurt is too subjective, an emotion. Some people will be hurt just because you spoke something. Unless you were being derogatory or demeaning to him, you can’t be apologizing if just asking a question hurt someone. You asked about Amanda and I didn’t want to talk about her. I told you so. There is no room for apology here.”

Manasvi swayed her jaw slightly, “I will keep it in mind.”

He smiled, and sat down on the edge of the broken wall, facing the valley, “Great. Nothing should stop you from asking questions. The other person has a right – whether to reply or not. But don’t apologize for it.”

She sat down beside him, and chuckled, “Don’t encourage me there. The hundreds of questions in my mind will break all queues demanding to be answered.”

He smirked, “You surprise me! As long as you don’t speak, one can mistake you for being docile, timid, and weak. The moment you share your thoughts, you turn out to be the most fierce woman around.”

She folded her knees up, wrapped her arms around her legs and buried her chin on her upturned knees, “Like I said in the morning, that is what I want to be – fierce and invincible. I’m struggling to get there.”

“You are already there. You simply don’t realize.”

Manasvi could feel her heart ramming against her chest. Her mind felt clouded. The cool wind from the valley gushed through her body and sent hundreds of fine tingles along her skin.

One small sentence from him filled her heart with overwhelming confidence and reassurance. Did he mean to say that she was strong and he had seen that trait in her? Wasn’t it the approval and validation that she had been looking for after working hard on herself?

He turned towards the cliff and threw the stone in his hand down the valley.

“Why do you keep doing this all the time?” Manasvi noticed him and couldn’t stop from asking.

He picked up another stone and opened his palm before her, “This? Do you notice that I throw stones in the valley?”

“All the time.”

He twisted his lips and replied, “These are the negative, overbearing emotions I collect through the day – stress, fatigue, guilt, anger, inability to do all that I want to, mistakes that I wanted to avoid – then at night, I pretend to throw it away, as far as I can. So that they don’t affect me the next day. I want to begin a new day again, tomorrow.”

She listened to him calmly. Thinking about it, she asked, “Does it work?”

He spread his palm before her and said, “Try it.”

She picked up the stone from his hand and looked at it. While her eyes were fixed on it, he asked, “What is troubling you the most at this time?”

The first thought that she had at that time was about her documents, her certificates, her passport, and her citizenship status. She looked at Anshuman. He was right before her. With a warm calming look in his eyes. She replied, “Fear and worry.”

His smile vanished, “Fear and worry, about what?”

“I don’t want to tell you. You insist on helping me.”

“Never be afraid of taking help, Manasvi. People who don’t want to help, won’t help you even after asking them for help. And those who can help and offer you the same might make things easy for you. It is always better to be safe than sorry. Look at this stone. This is the fear and worries you are going through. Throw it away as far as you can. Because we are going to manage whatever problems come to us.”

She looked at the stone and then threw it away with all her might. The stone went hurling away into the darkness of the jungle down the valley, disappearing in the oblivion.

“How did it feel? Did it work?” He asked.

“It felt so good. Can we throw away every problem like this?”

“At least we can pretend to throw them away and that motivates our mind to begin working on them.”

“Hmm. You are right.”

“So, tell me, what was your fear and what was the worry, that you didn’t want to tell me?”

“The officials at MEA said that my Tazkira will be made but not the passport.”

“Why?”

“They need all the records from my childhood, what I did, where I studied all those years when I was not in Afghanistan. That means records from Pakistan.”

“But don’t you have the school leaving certificates and other documents of stay? You must have submitted them while signing up for higher education in India.”

“Yes. I have all the certificates. But they are asking about ‘clearance certificate’ from my school that is like a conduct certificate that I was not involved in any criminal activities and was not thrown out of Pakistan.”

He shrugged, “Big deal?! When you can confidently come this far, what is the issue in going to Pakistan?”

She winced, evidently worried, “I could come here because I had an Afghan passport and I was born here. Without passport and valid documents, who will give me a visa to enter Pakistan? I stayed there for six years as an migrant refugee. I have no basis to enter again.”

“As a tourist?”

“Without a passport?”

“Hmm.” He thought about it and then immediately came up with a suggestion, “I can go in your place. I have a passport, international visa to enter 170 countries. I’ll check if Pakistan is named in them. Otherwise, I will apply for one. PBB doctors are never refused visas. I know, I will get one.”

Immediately, she refused, “No…no… no! Why will you go? That is why I didn’t tell you since I came back. I don’t want you to…”

“Manasvi…wait…” he stopped her from speaking more, “It’s okay. For me, going from one country to another is like tossing and turning in bed. I will just take a flight, go to Karachi, get the form signed on your behalf, and come back.”

“No…please no…” She panicked, “You are putting me through the pain. Why did I even tell you?”

He stood up and stretched his hand towards her to help her in getting up and said, “Tch…trust me… it’s not even a big thing. I will go in the morning and be back at night. Tell me, when do you want it?”

“I don’t know. Only after my Tazkira is made.”

“So, we have time.” He said, thinking about it deeply, as they walked back.

“I am not going to allow you to go. It’s my problem, I’ll handle it.” She declared.

He stopped walking, rested his hands on his waist, and calmly reminded her, “We are not divorced yet. And since you refuse to accept my friendship, I’ll have to tell you that I am still your husband.”

“Dr. Shekhawat…” She tried to reason with him, but he interrupted her.

Sharply he said, “My name is Anshuman.”

She sighed, “Okay…Anshuman…please give me some time to think if we can manage in any other way.”

He declared in strong words, “Even if there is another way, I want to do this.”

His stubbornness surprised her. She asked, “And why would you do so?”

“I have my reasons. It is very important that I do this.”

“And I won’t let you do it unless you tell me your reasons.”

He shook his head nonchalantly, “Forget about it. Good night.”

He turned around to leave before she held his arm and stopped him. The touch of her delicate fingers over his muscular arm was no less than electric. He was startled to a stop. With a knot between her brows, she asked, “What’s going on? Why do I feel this strong, disturbing angst when I am around you? Why do you keep confusing me and never speak anything straight but you want to know everything about me?”

“It’s nothing. You simply overthink.”

“Maybe, I overthink. But I am not naive. I can see. I can sense. I can feel.”

“And what do you feel?”

“That you are hiding under some layers you have put on for the world. You are disturbed, anguished, and in pain… but you prefer to hide it under the haze you have created around you.”

He smirked as if to divert her attention, “Wow! Never heard you speak so much.”

She lifted her head to meet his eyes and said –

“Dr. Anshuman Shekhawat, you are yet to hear what I haven’t spoken.”

…………………………………………

~

~ Updating sooner, like I had promised.

~ I haven’t replied to a lot of comments and a lot of mails and messages. I get hundreds of them every day. Trust me, I want to reply to each of you but I get very little time for myself. In that time, I prefer to deal with emergencies or try to write something.
Still, I try to reply to some of you, as and when I can.

~ I hope Manan fans have checked out my new Manan fics’ site. If you haven’t, please do that now, and subscribe for my new MaNan story – ‘Love, Lies, Etc.’

Your love has always made me speechless. I am overwhelmed with the response to all the stories of mine. Thanks a lot, dear people. You mean the world to me.

Hope all of you are safe. Stay blessed.

………………………………………

A beautiful cover made by Rosann. She surprised me today by sending this to me, even without me asking for it. She is such a sweetheart. Love you, dear. Thank you so much!!

 

Manasvi had been talking to the patients standing in the queue for emergency treatment. She noted their names, occupations, age, and problems they faced in a small diary. They were all from nearby areas and attending the PBB camp due to a lack of medical facilities in their area. There were malnourished children, pregnant women with no access to immunization and emergency care, some people with long term illnesses like leprosy and tuberculosis.

She talked to them, spoke about herself to people inquisitive about her, and clicked pictures. She was moved when she saw a woman crying, holding around a seven or eight-year-old kid bleeding profusely at the knee. Manasvi immediately assured her that someone will take care of her but the woman didn’t stop crying. The boy was hit by a big rock that brushed across his left knee after an explosion near their home. Many people were injured in that explosion and were now coming to the camp.

Manasvi shuddered at the sight of the boy. She must have been this young when her father had died in an explosion at the function that they had attended. She still remembered that smoke and soot in the air, people running around in a panic, her mother crying for help & her father collapsing on the ground.

She reminded herself that she had decided to stay more in the present and think about the future instead of worrying about the past. Immediately, Manasvi picked up the boy in her arms and asked her mother to wait. “I’ll do something.” She assured the woman and went towards the tent where Anshuman was examining and treating the patients.

Anshuman was writing prescription for an elderly man when Manasvi entered his tent, “Dr. Shekhawat…”

Anshuman was startled at the sight of Manasvi suddenly entering his tent with a small boy in her arms. He gave her a surprised look and moving his tongue inside his mouth, he said, “One moment…”

Then he turned to the elderly man, finished writing his prescription, and explained to him, “Take these tablets in the morning, after breakfast and the ones written here, at night. Apply the creams as I told you.”

The elderly man nodded obediently. In the meantime, Manasvi settled the boy on the examination bed in his tent and stood by him. The man got up, wished Anshuman, and left. Anshuman capped his pen and got up, giving one look to the boy on the bed and other to Manasvi.

Manasvi didn’t give him much time for formality. She quickly asked, “Dr. Shekhawat, can you please teach me how to do dressing of a wound?”

“Teach?” He tossed the pen on the table and reached the bed to hold the boy’s knee to examine him. Then he asked Manasvi, “But why do you want to learn?”

“To help you… I mean, to help everyone at the PBB.” She replied sincerely with a genuine, worried look on her face, “I have been observing since so many days. There is a dire need for doctors and healthcare personnel.”

“There is ALWAYS a dire need for healthcare personnel. Everywhere.”

“Exactly!” She nodded, “And I know one thing that nursing care is not rocket science. I know that if I learn sincerely, I will be able to do at least the dressing of wounds, basic examinations, and counselling. Please teach me!” She almost persuaded him.

Anshuman looked at her worried face while her eyes were on the boy’s wounds. Her face had the most troubled, anxious, deeply concerned expressions right now. As if she had totally forgotten about their uncomfortable rendezvous last night. Even if she remembered, she didn’t let it come between what she thought of as her duty.

His consolation was that she came directly to him for this job. Not Amanda, Not Alex. And none of the other doctors in the camp. No. She had come to him.

This little gesture made Anshuman smile. He took out the sterilized box from the side table and gave her a set of gloves, “Wear this. Open the outer wrapper in the way, I show you. And then touch the inner surface only as guided. First, use this sanitizer.”

He gave her the sanitizer. She took a drop in her hand and rubbed it in her hands and carefully followed as Anshuman directed her.

He asked, “That day, you shuddered and shivered at the sight of blood and wound. You were so disturbed. And today you want to perform dressing?”

She lowered her eyes and replied in a grave tone, “That was my real self – weak and traumatized. This is what I want to be. And hope that I will be – strong and determined.”

“You will be!” He assured her in firm words, “You are stronger than you think.”

“I hope so. I have been working hard for many years.”

He nodded and picked up the sterile gauze piece and told her the steps of simple dressing of a bleeding wound, in a systematic manner, “First of all, you need to assess whether the wound has any deeply lodged piece of glass, rock, gravel, any other foreign body, maybe bullet… and secondly, you need to assess how deep is the wound – you can only dress if this is skin deep or up to fascia…deeper wounds need to be sutured… I mean stitched… you should know when to call the doctor…”

“How will I know that?”

“Practice!” He spoke in a word and started explaining the steps of wound cleaning, hand movements, the approach from the center to outwards, use of spirit and betadine, applying antibiotics, and then dressing the wound.

Manasvi solemnly observed him, listened to him carefully, and after it was done, she asked, “After I send off this kid, will you dictate the steps to me? I want to write them.”

Anshuman smirked, “If you intend to help, you are going to do it so many times in a day that you will have it by-heart in a few days.”

She smiled too and picked up the kid to be taken outside.

Anshuman said, “Ask his mom to take him to the reception to be given tetanus toxoid and injectable antibiotic before they leave.”

“Okay!” Manasvi went out, explained all the instructions verbatim and gave the boy to his mom, and then sent them off with a big smile. The woman blessed her with hundreds of ‘duas’ and left.

Krish had been clicking pictures of the men in another queue waiting to be seen by Dr. Alex. He spotted Manasvi and walked towards her, “Hey!”

“Good morning, Krish!”

“What are you doing?” He asked, looking at the boy and the mom as they went away.

“Just trying to do my bit by helping these people.”

“By doing dressing of wounds?” Krish smirked, evidently amused.

Manasvi squeezed her eyes annoyingly, “What’s wrong in that?”

“Not everyone needs to pick up every role, Manasvi. Everyone does his bit by doing his work well. We are doing our bit by highlighting their issue and presenting it well before the world.”

“I can do both!” Manasvi smiled.

Krish huffed, “You look so docile and so naive and so simple. But it is always so difficult to convince you. You are a pretty tough nut.”

“I have phases according to the moon.” Manasvi chuckled to lighten the heavy conversation.

Krish laughed at that. Manasvi observed him laughing openly and said, “You are a nice person, Krish. Thank you for being there with me. I’m so glad you are not one of those creeps who make women feel uncomfortable by their presence.”

“Aww… can you please raise this appreciation & goodness certificate before Amanda. I like her so much but I’m unable to talk to her.” Krish sighed, checking the exposure in his DSLR camera.

Manasvi remembered that Krish had told her that he was keen to work with Amanda and was looking forward to it. But until now, he hadn’t been able to work with her.

‘If Krish works with Amanda, he will talk more with her. Amanda knows that Dr. Shekhawat and I know each other. She will tell this to Krish that we know each other for years and Dr. Shekhawat has asked me to stay in this camp. I haven’t talked about this to Krish. In fact, we haven’t shown that we know each other every time we met in front of Krish. On the other hand, Krish knows that I am married to an army man and a doctor. He will add two and two… and involve Amanda as well…’

Manasvi frowned at the way her brain was sending signals in all directions. Krish snapped his first two fingers before her, “What happened, Madam? You don’t look happy after hearing Amanda’s name.”

“Err… Krish, I think you should forget about Amanda.” Manasvi didn’t want to do it but had no choice. Anshuman had told her on day one that she should not let anyone at the camp know about their relationship.

“Why so harsh?” Krish was not serious. In fact, he touched his heart jovially as if Manasvi had broken it.

Manasvi smiled, “I don’t know. It looks like she is the girlfriend of Dr. Shekhawat.”

“Girlfriend?” Krish laughed at that, as if seriously amused.

“You find that funny?” Manasvi frowned.

“Manasvi, you might be very smart but a novice at these things. Do they look like girlfriend-boyfriend to you?” Krish was still laughing.

“I thought so. Don’t they?”

“I’ve never seen them together… I mean, except for work… also, they don’t look like, what do we call that, yeah… they don’t look like ‘into’ each other. Never stealing glances. Never finding out ways to be around each other. Never looking for each other like the way people in love do… they are always so colleague-ish, and friend-ish…”

Manasvi rolled her eyes, “I wish, I could understand words created by you.”

“That’s millennial lingo. Not for humdrum like you. You go and concentrate on work. Leave Amanda for me to decode.” Krish chuckled and turned around leaving Manasvi confused about what he had just told her.

Was she just assuming that Amanda was Anshuman’s girlfriend? None of them had confirmed it in words. She had just accepted it. Maybe she was so overwhelmed with Anshuman’s presence around her that she couldn’t see beyond the haze his aura had created. She believed what she dreaded to be true.
But… Was Krish right?

Manasvi was back into the tent with Anshuman, who was now examining another man with several oozing pustules on his hip bone. Manasvi sat on the spare chair before the doctor’s desk.

“What happened to him?” She asked when Anshuman was back on his chair and started writing the prescription for the man.

“Tuberculosis,” Anshuman replied with his eyes on the paper that he was writing on.

“It happens in bones too?” She asked, genuinely surprised.

“TB happens anywhere and everywhere.” He replied while writing the prescription.

“I thought it happens only in the lungs and airways as my ma died because of TB in the lungs.” She spoke, out of the blue, and immediately regretted. She closed her eyes hoping that Anshuman had missed it and didn’t hear it. She had been quite low and Anshuman was busy writing the prescription.

Anshuman finished the prescription, gave it to the man, and waited for the man to leave. During this time, he didn’t divert his eyes away from Manasvi. He sighed, as he spoke, “I know!”

“Hmm?!” Manasvi raised her head. She hadn’t expected this reply from him.

“I mean… I know about your ma…” He said.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to…” Talking about personal domain was something she had always avoided. Whether in college or at work. Neither she craved for sympathy nor needed anyone to come close to her and offer help. She didn’t know why it slipped out of her tongue today.

He replied in a considerate manner, “You don’t have to be sorry. And it’s okay to talk about personal things. This is not a classroom…”

“Dr. Shekhawat…” She didn’t know what to say to this. Sympathy made her uneasy.

“Anshuman…” He corrected her.

She raised her eyelids and looked at him with a growing complaint in her eyes. But she didn’t speak anything. Her eyes were enough to tell him that she was not going to take his name.

Another boy of around 17-18 years of age walked in. Anshuman didn’t shy away from her eyes. In fact, he looked at her directly, while she complained and he read her eyes.

He turned to the patient, and after examining him, he sent him for a blood collection and investigations. Manasvi wrote down details of different patients she had met today in a diary.

Anshuman sat down on his chair and spoke to Manasvi, “I’ll ask again… can we become friends?”

“No!” She whispered and replied straight away, even without thinking twice, without looking at him.

“Why not?” He asked in a confused tone. The solution that he had thought of, to be an easy way out for them to converse and interact, had been mercilessly squashed by her. She had rejected his offer of friendship and it was quite a shock for him.

“Because…” She started speaking and then she realized that she had nothing to say to him.

What could she possibly tell him? That she had developed certain deeper feelings for him which were nowhere close to a platonic friendship between a man and a woman. And to agree to be friends with him for her entire life was an insult to her feelings and his friendship, both. How could she tell him that? How she wished she could tell him that she was confused with his changing stance over things? On one hand, he stayed away from her, and on the other, he wanted to be around her, even if it was for friendship.

“Because?” He was looking at her questioningly now, waiting for an answer, and even prompted her after her ‘because…’

Another patient came in and Manasvi got some time to compose herself. Anshuman made the patient lie down and asked him to take off his shirt. The patient complied.

In the meantime, Manasvi cleared her throat and stood up, with a soft whisper, “I need to go and meet other people.”

Anshuman nodded and returned to her. Picking up his stethoscope, he searched her eyes for an answer but got none. Leaning towards her across the table, he replied in a hushed whisper, “Okay! But be prepared to answer that ‘because’…tonight.”

“Tonight?” She asked innocently, her eyes locked to his.

“Near the cliff.” He raised his brows, as a matter-of-fact, as if it was a ritual.

“I will not come.” She spoke, as she could hear her heart beating hard, and added, “You can’t force me to come.”

His jaw stiffened, and leaned further, inches away from her before he murmured with a straight face –

“I didn’t force you to come. I just informed that I will wait.”

………………………………….

{Since I have time in this month of May –
The schedule for May will be – 

BEB – Monday, Wednesday, Friday
Love, Lies, etc. – Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday }

Thank you for all the love in the previous parts. Apologies for not replying to you. 

Love you all, you have no idea, how much!! Stay blessed. Take care.

…………………………………………

Every last trace of doubt vanished the very next moment. When he perceived the sound of footsteps and realized that someone was walking towards him. When he turned to look at her.

When his eyes met hers!

If she was asked to name the feeling that she felt she saw in Anshuman’s eyes, Manasvi had no answer for that. No words. No labels.

But she was sure about one thing. His eyes held the warmest, convivial look in them. As if they had known her for several decades. For several centuries. For several lives.
As if they had waited for her, since forever. Promising an anchor to her storms. Weaving spells around her mind, and soul, rendering them unable to have a voice of their own.

Her feet didn’t wait for her to order them. They simply took her forward towards him. Every doubt, every question, every worry calmed down when he smiled softly with a subtle lopsided curve of his lips and a single blink of his eyes. She couldn’t help but smile too.

She reached him and sat down beside him. He turned to face the valley again, looking at nothing specific as nothing was visible in the darkest of the dark night. She tried to focus ahead too.

“How was your day?” He asked.

“Hmm…” She didn’t know what to say. Was it a sincere query to know more about her day or just a way to begin the conversation, like everyone normally did. People are not really interested in knowing how exactly your day went. They just don’t know how to begin talking to you and this small query is generally used as an ice-breaker.

He looked at her and shrugged, “Hmm? Hmm…what? I asked, how did your day go?”

Confused, she twisted her lips, and frowned slightly, “Dr. Shekhawat, do you really want to know about my day?”

“Didn’t we decide that you will call me Anshuman?” He reminded her, clasping his hands together.

“Yes. And after that, we didn’t talk for an entire day. So I’m not sure where any further attempt to become informal will lead us to.”

He nodded softly and replied, “We didn’t talk because someone asked me to remain unbothered about her and refrain from indulging in any special favours that make her life easy.”

She chuckled subtly and said, “So, you accept that it’s a special favour from you when you talk to someone.”

He grinned, “Come on! That is not what I meant.”

“But that is the truth. Isn’t it? You can’t deny that. You don’t talk to anyone. Not even your friends, or your family.”

She was right. And he didn’t know what to say to this observation of hers. It was useless to deny. So, he chose honesty, however difficult it was for him.

“I don’t like to talk much.” He confessed, looking far away into the sky, at the stars and the moon, and said, “There is nothing to talk usually. People are either asking questions or accusing you that you didn’t do certain things.”

She listened to him patiently and asked, “But… what’s wrong in that? People want to remain connected to you. They ask questions to make sure that you are fine. They accuse you of certain things, maybe because… like you said that day… they expect.”

“I know. And I’m not good at living up to expectations. So, I’d rather stay away.”

She pressed her lips momentarily before releasing them and before gaining sufficient courage to speak, and said, “Is it because you don’t want people to know more about you?”

This question hit him hard. He could feel himself getting unsettled. Scraping his gums using his tongue, he looked at her inquisitively but he didn’t reply. Just yesterday, he had told her that the more you talk to people, the more they know about you. He remembered that and she added that to her observations about him.

She cleared her throat and continued, “You don’t want your family to know about your professional work. Similarly, you avoid giving any details about your family to people at work. You want to keep these two fronts totally disconnected from each other.”

He sighed. “Do you know that you are the only person in this world who knows about both these worlds of mine?”

“It doesn’t make me feel privileged.” She sighed.

“What do you want to say?” He unclasped his fingers and picked up a stone to throw far away.

“There is so much more that I want to know…”

“Why?” He interrupted her with one strong word.

This question from him was so unexpected, so sudden, so abrupt that she had no immediate reply to him. Yes, she would give anything to know more about him. To talk to him about ‘him’. To stay around him. But why?

‘Why???’

Why couldn’t she leave him alone and let him live his life peacefully? Just as he wanted. The way he had hoped for and wished for. If he didn’t want anyone to know him more, why did she want to insist? Why was she looking for more insights into his personality when he preferred to remain an enigma, even to his family. When he was secretive, even to his mother and sister, why did she think that he will open up to her? And why was she even looking forward to that? She had no answer.

She stayed quiet. Lower lips pressed under the upper ones and eyes searching for answers beyond the horizon.

He looked at her. “No answer?”

“I don’t know – ‘why’ – but it feels like our lives are a big puzzle, pieces of which appear to be missing,” She tried her best to explain it as clearly as she could, “I wish I could know more about certain things and complete the picture. It is always easy to move on if you have perfect closure.”

“Move on? Closure?” He raised his brows, “Move on where? Closure to what?”

She winced, unable to lay it out in better words, everything that she wanted to convey. Was he naive? Or was he avoiding her all over again, after asking her to talk to him? She reminded him the same, “You sent me a message asking me if we could begin talking, in real?”

“So? We ‘are’ talking, now.” He shrugged, “We were not talking yesterday, so it created a row of miscommunications. I wanted to be with you at your appointment with MEA but you chose to go with your friend. So, I wanted to make sure that you are fine.”

“Why?”

She asked the same. In the same abrupt tone, using the same pitch and the suddenness. Making him uneasy and speechless. She continued, “Why did you want to accompany me and ensure that I was fine, Dr. Shekhawat?”

“Anshuman!” he corrected her.

She protested in a low but firm voice, “I will not call you ‘Anshuman’ because I am neither your friend nor anyone close to you who deserves the right to converse on the first-name basis.”

Immediately, he said, “Exactly, that is what I wanted to put across when I said that we should talk. We ‘can’ become friends, you know… we can help each other, whenever we…”

“Please, Dr. Shekhawat…” Manasvi pleaded and interrupted him in a pained, teary voice.

He was about to say more but Manasvi couldn’t hear him brushing off his insecurities and his discomfort under the carpet behind a garb of developing a friendship with her. He wanted to be there for her, help her, and make sure that she was managing her life and problems well but when she asked him to not worry about her and to allow her to deal with her issues on her own, he settled for a ‘label’ to name their relationship. A label that was easy for him to live up to – ‘friendship’ – that is, be there for each other, stay in each other’s lives, help each other when someone needs you, without being answerable, without committing to anything, and without promising any ties forever. It was so easy for him. To do what he wanted to do and yet remain unreachable for her. A one-way street where he would call the shots about how much he would allow her to stay in his life and yet be allowed to jerk her off when he wanted to keep her away.

For her, it meant living in a daze that jeopardized her peace and every chance of a normal life, henceforth. And she was not willing to settle for anything less than what she deserved. To cut off all ties with him would be easier than living around him in a relationship she didn’t believe in.

She stood up. The dupatta slipped down her head, letting few strands of her silky hair escape from her beautiful braid. She held the ends of her dupatta and settled it again on her head. Anshuman noticed each movement keenly, wondering what irked her so much that she appeared this upset. He stood up too.

Maybe, the pain was too excruciating, that she interrupted him and stood up. Otherwise, under normal circumstances, she couldn’t have imagined snubbing off Anshuman. Her respect for him would usually over-rule every other feeling. For her, until now, his wishes and happiness had always found a place above everything in her life. His words weighed more than all her feeling summed up together, before this. Not not today.

Today, there was something else that ruled above all other previous feelings. Something else – much deeper, much stronger, more powerful. She didn’t know what it was but it gave her enough courage to stop Anshuman before he spoke even a word more.

She winced painfully, as she said, “Please, Dr. Shekhawat…please stop it. We can never be friends. I’ve already said that I don’t want you to do anything for me. You’ve already said that you don’t want me to ask any questions to you. You don’t want me to know more about you. We have nothing in common and we are about to get divorced. Then, why this needless formality…”

She waited for him to say something. But he was so shocked that his words got stuck in his throat. He had never heard Manasvi speak more than a few words, at a time. This time, she had made him spellbound. He slightly parted his lips to let the air caught in his lungs to escape.

Manasvi turned around to leave but before that, she finished her sentence, “What is left to talk more or stay connected…and why?”

She walked away towards the camp base leaving Anshuman stunned and rooted to the ground. She had rejected his offer of becoming friends with each other, thereby rejecting every chance of allowing him to stay around her.

He leaned his back at the broken wall of the fortress and watched her retreating back until she disappeared in

‘Why do I even want to be around her? She is right. Why do I want to ensure that she is fine? I didn’t bother for 7 years. Then, why now?’

‘It’s good that this happened. We are getting divorced anyway. I don’t want her near me. I should concentrate on my work and my life. More than that, I should give her enough space to concentrate on her own life. If she needs me, I hope she seeks me. But that is all I can do, right now – hope!’

He might have tried giving excuses to himself that this was the correct way and this was how it was supposed to be. That becoming friends just to be around each other was a bad idea. But he couldn’t sleep after that. Manasvi was on his mind all night.

The lone curl of her silky tresses escaping her dupatta on her head, her sharp, eloquent eyes, her silences at all times, and her impactful words when she spoke – each attribute of hers disturbed his sleep. He tossed in his bed and turned around to lie on his stomach, to bury his face in the fold of his elbow, trying to cut off every thought demanding entry into his mind, but couldn’t. It had never happened before with him. When he caught sleep for a few moments, he was woken by his nightmares. And when he woke up, all he could think of, was Manasvi. Even a single thought of hers became a source of peace to his wandering, unhinged mind.

If only, he could storm out of his tent, go to her tent, and gather her in his arms. Tightly, yet lovingly – Right at that moment!

……………………………

{Wait for my announcement about a MaNan FF today}

The Internet was slow yesterday, so I couldn’t upload the update at night. In case I don’t upload before 12:00 am IST, please don’t keep waiting and go to sleep. I don’t want you to spoil your schedules for updates. I will post as soon as I get time and the internet.

Right now, I woke up at 4:00 am, only to upload the next update.

Thank you for all the love and appreciation.

…………………………………….

‘Can we please start talking again, in real?’

Manasvi winced and kept looking at the phone screen for a long, unsure moment before she sighed and put it back in her handbag.

She couldn’t reply to Anshuman after his last message. She had no reply for him. What could she say, she wondered. Whether she should write – No, we can’t talk. I can’t talk to you without losing a bit of my sanity every time we interact. Or whether it should be – Yes, we could talk. But talk about what? Will you ever solve these puzzles you weave around me every single day? Will you stop avoiding me after that? Or whether you will stop making it difficult for both of us?

Why are you doing this, Anshuman? She wondered.
Manasvi was almost sure that these were damage control measures from Anshuman to get rid of the guilt, if at all he had any, about divorcing her. He wanted to keep doing things for her. To make it easy for her. And now when she had asked him to stay away from her, he was taking extreme measures to ensure that she allowed him to be around her. But how could she do that despite knowing that every time they talked, she lost her heart as well? And not just sanity.
How could she accept him just as a well-wisher and a friend in her life when her feelings were much deeper, much complicated than those simple emotions.

It was better when they were away for last 7 years. Never met. Never expected anything. Destined to separate. It was so easy to bear. But it was not the same anymore. It was different now. Her heart had never been involved before. Previously, it was just gratitude, respect, wishing well for him and worshipping him, before the little part of her soul got entangled with him. The heart doesn’t know any rules. It doesn’t know any limitations. It doesn’t know any borders. You can’t restrict it to feel in a certain way and stop beyond that. The heart defies every frontier to make its own rules and ways.

And, her heart would tell her how she felt about Anshuman – by skipping beats when he was around, by beating loudly when she thought about him, and by feeling a heavy burden on itself when she hoped and wished for more.

She had to do something about it before it was too late and she lost whatever little sense was left with her. She bit her lower lip and thought about it.

Krish looked at her and shrugged to ask if she was fine. She nodded to confirm and paced around the visiting hall of the MEA office.

Azfar’s mother and brother arrived at the MEA office and helped her with the documents that needed local witnesses. Though it was really a heartwarming gesture and Azfar’s mother was a loving woman who hugged Manasvi and treated her kindly, yet it appeared to Manasvi that they had gone out of their way for her. They were nice, warm people, no doubt about that but who does that for an unknown girl. It could have been a security issue. How did they trust her so easily? Somehow, it troubled Manasvi. Did it have something to do with Anshuman? Had he ensured that someone was there for her at MEA? And he was not taking credit for this.

The documents were accepted. Paperwork finished. And major formalities were done. When they returned to Jalalabad, Manasvi said, “Krish, I need to go to the Population Registry office.”

“Why? Is there any formality or document left to be done? You already have your birth certificate.”

“Yeah. It’s not official. It’s personal.”

Krish flicked a single brow and teased her, “You know, I am so envious of you. You have barely entered this country and already promoted yourself from ‘professional’ issues to ‘personal’ matters. Looks like you already know half of Afghanistan and have made relationships too.”

Manasvi chuckled, “Don’t exaggerate. And don’t be jealous.”

She rode the stairs to the Population Registry office and called Azfar to come outside the office. She was apprehensive about creating a scene inside the office. Azfar met her outside the office. He asked, “Hey, is everything fine? I talked to amma. She was so happy to meet you.”

Manasvi smiled, “The pleasure was all mine. She is so loving. Thank you so much, Azfar bhai. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been there.”

“Don’t mention that. I already told you that you are like my sis.”

“I have one more request. But I’m not sure how you would react.” Manasvi asked apprehensively.

“Tell me,” Azfar asked.

Manasvi took out a red thread from her bag. In the center of the thread were two beads and a cowrie shell in the center of the thread.

She said, “I had brought this thread to tie it at any place of worship in remembrance of my parents who are no more. Can I tie it around your wrist?” Then she asked hesitatingly, “If you don’t mind…”

Tall and robust, Azfar, with a light complexion and deep brown eyes, and typical Afghan looks, was strong and rough by his appearance but a soft-hearted boy at heart. He became emotional at Manasvi’s request. He was speechless when he raised his wrist.  Manasvi tied the thread around his wrist and said, “Thank you for everything.”

Azfar placed his hand over her head and blessed her. “I’ll always be there.”

It was quite late and Krish was famished. But Manasvi didn’t want to go to the Jalalabad town and eat. So they got packed two Kathi rolls to eat.

Krish rolled his eyes when they walked to the bus stand to get a cab., “Don’t you think that you were too filmy, there? What was that scene? Out of a typical Hindi film?”

Manasvi laughed, sheepishly, “Yeah. When it comes to emotions, Hindi films are pretty handy with dialogues and scenes, both.”

“Certainly! They have covered almost everything.” He raised his brows and remarked when they took the cab towards the PBB camp.

“On a serious note, those were my true emotions. I felt deeply grateful to that officer, Azfar Malik. And they treated me like their own. So, I was moved.”

“On another serious note, don’t you find it fishy that his mother came to MEA to help you? Would they do it for every random person coming to their country for documents issues?” Krish asked.

Manasvi became serious, “Even you felt that?”

“Obviously! I mean, people do help strangers but this went too far. Like… you don’t see it everyday… it was so …um…what do we say… ya… It was so strange!.” Krish said.

“Hmm.” Manasvi gave it a long thought, staring in infinity, out of the cab, and nodded to agree.

“Forget it,” Krish didn’t want to see her more troubled so he tried to relax her, “Your work is done and that is more important.”

Manasvi pressed her lips together and nodded once again to agree.

……………………………………

It was almost 9:00 pm by the time they reached PBB camp. Manasvi retired to the tent that she shared with Amanda. Krish went to another tent that he was asked to share with one of the staff at the management section.

“Hey, is your work done?” Amanda asked sweetly, as Manasvi entered the tent. She folded the book that she had been reading to keep it aside to talk to Manasvi.

Manasvi nodded, “Almost. I’ve submitted the papers. Let’s hope for the best.”

“Anshuman didn’t go with you today?” Amanda asked cautiously, despite being aware that Anshuman didn’t go out of the camp for the entire day. But she wanted to know from Manasvi why he didn’t accompany her.

“Err… no, I asked him not to come. I went with my friend.” Manasvi made it clear to her and realized that with Amanda around her and questioning her, she would immediately become defensive and apologetic, even when she had done nothing wrong. Still, clarifying to Amanda and reassuring her that she need not worry about Anshuman’s interest in her became a growing need every time Amanda questioned her. As if that was the only mission left in her life.

Questioning once or twice was fine, but what was it with repeated interrogation? Manasvi couldn’t understand Amanda’s insecurity anymore. ‘What an insecure female? She has the world with her and still, she is so underconfident!’

Amanda was quick to ask, “Your friend? Who was admitted to the male ward after the blast in the city? Is he your boyfriend?”

Manasvi took out her clothes, trying to stay patient. Then she replied, “No, Amanda. He is not my boyfriend. But a dear friend, nevertheless.”

“But he doesn’t love you?”

Baffled, Manasvi winced and nodded vehemently, “Of course, not! He is simply a friend.”

Amanda thought about Anshuman and bit her lower lip as she asked, “But how would you know if someone treats you just like a friend, or loves you?”

“A woman would know that.” Manasvi whispered.

“Really? But how?” Amanda twisted her lips and shrugged, genuinely interested.

“Err…,” Manasvi changed her attire and took some time before replying. She was really not sure what to say to this. She had always believed that a woman would know when a man loves her. The looks, the words, the vibes changed the dynamics of a relationship. But was she sure about it, anymore? Probably not. She was sure about how Krish, Alex, or any random person felt about her. Even Azfar. But why she wasn’t sure about how Anshuman felt about her? Why she wasn’t sure how she felt for him? Why things were blurred when it came to Anshuman and her?

She tried to reply to Amanda, “I’m not sure how, but I am certainly sure that Krish doesn’t think of me as more than a friend. Or else, I would have known.”

Amanda was not happy with the reply. Somewhere, she would have been relieved if Manasvi and Krish were a couple. If they were not, it was implied that Manasvi had every chance to be close to Anshuman. She tried not to be mean about this, but couldn’t help it. Envy spoke more in her words than her true self when she asked, “What about Anshuman? Can you say the same about him, as well?”

Manasvi could hear her heart beating out of her ribcage and drumming over her eardrums when Amanda took ‘his’ name. Once again, she became apprehensive and apologetic, almost ready to clarify that there was nothing between them. She didn’t want to make Amanda insecure and step in between them to destroy a beautiful relationship. But Amanda’s insecurity had started troubling her.
‘Didn’t she trust Anshuman, at all? Why was she always so inquisitive and so worried?’

“What about him?” Manasvi asked in a low voice, making the bed, and dusting the pillow, “I’ve already told you that we don’t even know each other properly. Didn’t you see yesterday that he doesn’t even talk to me properly?”

“Yeah, I did.” Amanda nodded and put her book away. She dusted her pillow as well because, in a camp like this, it was not unusual to find insects, spiders, lizards or scorpions crawling into the bed. Amanda continued, “But then… that’s Anshuman, we are talking about! He doesn’t talk to anyone properly. In fact, he doesn’t talk at all. So no one knows about him much. And it is no big deal that he doesn’t talk to you. He talks to no one.”

“Not even you?” Manasvi lay down on her bed and stretched her legs under the duvet she had, as she closed her eyes.

Amanda replied, “No. Not even me. Not even Alex, or our supervisers, or even our chief. No one knows Anshuman properly. He says that he doesn’t like to talk.”

Manasvi didn’t reply to her.

“Good night.” Amanda closed her eyes after she dimmed the lantern in the room, kept behind her bed.

“Good night.” Manasvi wondered about the last message that she had received on her phone. She picked up the phone kept by her bedside and clicked on the messages section. The last message was from Anshuman. It read –

‘Can we please start talking again, in real?’

Someone who had told people closest to him that he didn’t like to talk, that he didn’t like to share his world with anyone, had asked her to talk to him. Manasvi was restless all over again. The storms inside her heart found a new surge.

What did he want? Why was he playing with her feelings so mercilessly?

For the first time, she felt as if she was helpless before her heart. And before Anshuman, as well. Did he have even an ounce of an idea how much she respected him and considered him a revered