“Geet, mere cabin mein aana,” Maan told her on the phone.

When Geet entered his cabin she saw two men in the room sitting on the visitors’ chairs. They were wearing their employee badges which told her that they were from the bank.

On Maan’s indication, Geet sat on the chair next to him. He had permanently put a chair next to his own in his office, which was Geet’s seat, especially when others were there in the room. She didn’t think this special treatment was necessary in the office, but he insisted on it; so she complied.

“Geet, in papers par sign kar do.”

Geet took the paper and started signing. Just for information’s sake, she asked, “Ye kya hain Maan?”

“Abhi batata hoon.”

After she had signed the papers, the bank employees took their leave.

“Geet. Maine tumhara naam mere personal bank account mein include karwa diya hai. Ye tumhare ATM aur Credit Cards hain. Tum inka use kar sakti ho, jab bhi zaroorat ho.”

Geet hesitated, “Lekin Maan. Inki kya zaroorat hai. Mujhe koi zaroorat hogi to main aapse ya Dadi Ma se maang loongi.”

Maan smiled and held her at shoulders, “Geet! Mujhe pata hai ki tumhein apne liye kuchh nahin chahiye hota hai. Lekin ab tumhare oopar aur zimmedariyan bhi hain. Hamare parivaar ki. Agar ghar mein koi zaroorat hui to kya tum har baar Dadi Ma ko pareshaan karogi?”

She nodded in agreement. Dadi Ma had talked about her responsibilities post-marriage. That had sounded natural to her. But somehow Maan talking about responsibilities made it sound like a huge thing to her. She wondered why was that so. Possibly because in his presence, she never had to take any responsibilities. He always had all the answers, he always knew the way. So, she had gotten used to being carefree like a child in his company. Probably that’s why the word responsibility struck her. But she was thinking too much. It was just another one of his ways to include her in his life as his wife, as the daughter-in-law of his family. He was saying something.

“Aur agar tumhein bhi koi zaroorat hui to tumhein kissi se kuchh maangne ki zaroorat nahin hai, samjhi tum?”

Geet smiled and left. They both had work to finish.

She had finished her work and peeked into his cabin. He seemed to be working on some blueprints. She decided to wait for him.

Her eyes fell on the credit and ATM cards lying on her table. She picked them up to keep them in her purse, but suddenly stopped. These were another symbol of her inclusion in his life. How would she use them for the first time? And she smiled. This was a thought that had crossed her mind on and off. She had never given him a real gift. There was the taveez, but that wasn’t really a gift from her to him. It was more of a symbol of their relationship. And then there were flowers that she had given him several times. But for most part they were an expression of her own feelings for him, rather than being for him. The fact was, and she had never told this to herself in so many words earlier, that with her finances she could not have afforded anything that would suit Maan Singh Khurana.

But now! She laughed to herself. So, she wanted to gift him something with his own money. But now it was hers too. That’s what he was letting her know by arranging these cards for her. So, why not! She would buy him his first real gift.

The decision to get a gift for him was easy, what followed after that was far too difficult. What would she get him? She could not think of single thing that he needed. Of course, he already had everything he needed. Were there things that would make him happy? Surprised? She picked up a piece of paper and started listing the possibilities. A watch? Too cliched… Clothes? A shirt? A tie? One wouldn’t even know where they will be burried in the heaps of clothes he had. What else?

“Babaji! Ladkiyon ke liye gift khareedna kitna aasaan hota hai. Itne saare gahnon ke options hain. Ab main inke liye kya loon?”

But Maan interrupted her tête-à-tête with her Babaji. He was done for the day and asked her to come home with him.

She was still busy thinking of gifts for him in the car. Maan noticed her unusual reticence and asked her repeatedly about what was going on in her mind, but she made an excuse every time. Then she realized that he was getting worried. He cared so much! So, for his sake she decided to push the thought off her mind for the time being. She’d figure out later in the evening. They were chatting away on their way home and crossed the mall which housed the designer boutique, where they had shopped for her dresses durnig the wedding. And then it struck her.

“Idea mil gaya,” she almost screamed in excitement.

“Kya idea mil gaya Geet?” Maan couldn’t make sense of her statement coming out of blue.

“Nahin… Woh… Haan… Maine aapse kaha tha na ki main Noida waale housing project ke kitchen ke design ke baare mein soch rahi thi. To uske liye idea mil gaya. Lekin hum abhi kaam ke baare mein baat nahin karte hain. Kal office mein bataungi.”

“Theek hai,” Maan felt confused. Something was up with Geet, but she seemed to have found the solution to whatever was bothering her. So, he did not dig further.

‘Ab kal kitchen ke liye kuchh soch kar jaana hoga. Babaji – madad kijiye,’ Geet thought to herself.

The next day Geet excused herself early from work. She told Maan that Dadi Ma wanted her back home early for some work. Maan did not like her leaving without him, but she had used the ultimate excuse – Dadi Ma. He could not stop her.

Geet had to rush through her selection to ensure that she had bought his gift, the first gift from her, and reached home before him. But she was satisfied with it.

When Maan entered his room, he felt annoyed at not finding her there. She had left only two hours ahead of him, but he had missed her too much already. And the drive from the office to home felt too lonely. He wondered about how much had changed in his life in less than six months. He was someone so used to his solitude. And now, even couple of hours without Geet would annoy him to no end. But it wasn’t the time to analyze and philosophize. Where was Geet? The only thing he wanted then was to see her and hear her voice.

“Geet,” he shouted out, as he loosened his tie and sat on the bed feeling exhausted after the tiring day. And then he noticed a nicely wrapped, small packet on the bed. The note on it read “Us Dusht Danav ke liye, jo meri duniya ban gaya”.

His first reaction was that of surprise and then he smiled. So, this was her business with Dadi Ma. He had laughed at Geet when she had told him that she liked the idea of hosting a reception because they got so many gifts. The idea of being happy about getting gifts sounded childish. Why does one need gifts? If he wanted something he could always buy it. But right now, he himself was feeling very elated. Getting a gift had not only cured his annoyance, but also made him genuinely happy.

He looked around to see if she had come in yet. She wasn’t to be seen. But he could not wait to open the gift. So, he unwrapped it. Inside a beautiful case, was a diamond pen with the body of white gold. The pen had his name inscribed on it – Maan Singh Khurana. She had clearly given a lot of thought in selecting and preparing the gift. It was expensive, but it looked classy and sober and not over the top. Just the kind of thing Maan Singh Khurana will carry. He already knew that his heart and soul were transparent in front of his Hoshiyarpur express. But he realized that she knew his day to day needs and persona very well too. Could his life get more perfect with her? He took the pen and put it in his breast pocket.

Suddenly he found her in front of him. She ran her hand over his pocket, also running it over his heart in the process and asked, “Kaisa laga?”

“Geet! Mujhe hamesha lagta tha ki mujhe jo chahiye main khareed sakta hoon. Phir kissi gift ko le kar khush hone ki kya zaroorat hai. Lekin aaj mahsoos hua ki insaan apni zaroorat ki sab cheezein to khareed sakta hai, lekin khushi dene waali cheezein use wahi de sakta hai, jo usse bahut pyaar karta ho. Thank you Geet. Aaj phir se tumne mujhe zindagi ki chhoti-badi cheezon mein khush hona sikha diya. Main bata nahin sakta ki mujhe kitna achchha laga.”

Geet was obviously overjoyed to see him happy. Suddenly she brought him a pad and said, “Ab is pen se apna pahla sentence likhiye.”

“Abhi?” Maan wasn’t expecting this request.

“Haan!”

“Theek hai. Kya likhoon?”

“I love you, Geet!” she had already thought of that.

“Kya?” Maan laughed slighly and then looked at her patronizingly. She was a child, wasn’t she?

She had started making faces seeing him laugh; so before she got angry he decided to obilige.

As he opened the pen, he noticed something and a naughty smile formed on his lips. He controlled his expressions before she could see him.

“Lao Geet. Pad do, main likhta hoon.”

She was immediatly happy again and he gave him the pad.

“Geet! Ye pen to chal nahin raha hai,” Maan told her as he tried to write.

“Kya? Aisa kaise ho sakta hai. Maine unse kaha tha ki ink bhar ke dein. Aap theek se likh rahe hain na?”

“Geet! Tumhein lagta hai ki mujhe pen se likhna bhi nahin aata,” Maan faked irritation.

“Nahin. Woh to… Dijiye main dekhti hoon,” she took the pen and tried to scribble, but to no avail. Then she jerked the pen couple of times to make the ink flow to the nib. It still didn’t work.

“Geet! Aise jhatka mat do pen ko. Diamonds nikal kar gir jayenge… Waise tumne khareedne se pahle pen chala kar nahin dekha tha?”

Geet looked at him feeling stupid, “Nahin. Mujhe laga ki itna mahnga pen hai, aur itni badi si dukaan hai to itna to dhyaan rakha hi hoga unhone.”

“Ab Geet. Pen ke mahnge-saste hone se kya hota hai. Pen to pen hi hai. Likhna to chahiye na. Ab isse achchha to yahan ghar ke paas se koi sasta-sa pen khareed lete.”

Geet sat down on the bed and was totally disappointed.

Maan loved teasing her, but only till she fought back. He could not stand seeing her sad or disappointed.

“Geet,” he touched her shoulders and took the pen from her hand. Then he took out the thin protective cap from the tip of the nib, which was preventing them from being able to write with the pen. He started smiling. Geet was first surprised and then furious.

“Aapko pata tha, aur aap phir bhi mujhe pareshaan kar rahe the,” she hit him on the shoulder, and pretty hard because he almost fell on his back.

“Geet! Sambhal ke. Ab cap nikal aayi hai, kahin nib toot gayi to?”

“Arre haan!” She forgot her fury for a moment as she became concerned about her pen. Then she saw him grinning and realized that he had teased her once again.

She got up from there and started going away pouting. But how could he let her go? He pulled her back on the bed, “Ruko Geet. Mujhe apna pahla sentence likh to lene do is pen se.”

She made a face as if she did not care any longer, but she stayed back. He picked up the pen and the pad and started writing.

Geet pretended not to be looking at what he was writing, but she was stealing glances when she thought Maan wouldn’t know. It couldn’t take him so much time to write what she had asked him to. What was he up to? Was he planning to tease her again?

He gave her the pad after he finished. She started reading it.

“Meri pyaari Mishti,

I love you. Main ye baat hazaar baar kah sakta hoon, hazaar baar likh sakta hoon. Lekin in lafzon se phir bhi ye nahin pata chalga ki main tumhare liye kya mahsoos karta hoon. Isliye tumne jitna kaha tha, main usse thoda zyada likh raha hoon.

Waise to maine bahut kuchh tumhein bataya hai ki kaise tumne meri zindagi badal dee hai. Aaj ek baat aur batana chahta hoon. Tumhare saath main apna aaj jeeta hoon aur aane waale kal ke sapne dekhta hoon. Lekin tumhare aane se sirf mera aaj aur aane waala kal hi nahin badla hai. Mujhe lagta hai jaise ki mere guzre hue kal ke din bhi main dubara jee raha hoon. Farq itna hai ki pahle woh andheron ke pal the, par ab unmein roshni hi roshni hai.

Tumhare saath maasoom khel khel kar main apne bachpan ke un dinon ki kasar poori karta hoon, jab unmein bholapan aur masti nahin rah gayi thi. Tumhein chhed kar, pareshaan kar ke, main un doston ki kami poori karta hoon jo maine kabhi banaye nahin the. Tumhari tarah pyaar kar ke main us 18 saal ke Maan ko bhula deta hoon jo samay se pahle bada ho gaya tha. Uski jagah ek naya 18 saal ka ladka ban jaata hoon, jo tumhari tarah khush rahna jaanta hai, sapne dekhna jaanta hai, pyaar karna jaanta hai.

Geet! Kabhi kabhi mujhe dar bhi lagta hai ki kahin main apni zarooraton ke liye tumhein bahut zyada pareshaan to nahin karta. Lekin jab tumhein muskurate hue apne saamne dekhta hoon, to phir laalchi ho jaata hoon.

Thank you Geet. Mujhe khush rahna sikhane ke liye, aur mujhe hamesha khush rakhne ke liye. Bas ek cheez aur maangta hoon, tumse bhi aur bhagwaan se bhi – Kabhi mujhse door mat jaana. Agar maine kabhi tumhein zyada pareshaan kiya; ya mujhse koi galti ho gai, to mujhe sazaa de dena, par mujhe chhod kar mat jaana.

Geet! Main tumse sirf pyaar hi nahin karta, main tumhari pooja karta hoon. Kyonki agar hamein zindagi dene waala bhagwaan hai, to woh khud tumhare roop mein mere saamne aaya hai – mujhe zindagi dene, mujhe jeena sikhane.

Aur kya likhoon? Tumhara pen to bahut achchha hai, lekin mere lafz jawaab de rahe hain. Lafzon mein kamzor hoon na! Baaki ki ankahi baatein khud hi samajh lo.

Tumhara

Dusht Danav”

She looked up at him with tears in her eyes. She kept the pad aside and leaned on him as he pulled her into a hug.

She spoke while still hugging him, “Maan. Aap please aisa kabhi mat sochiyega ki aap mujhe pareshaan karte hain ya aapse koi galti ho sakti hai. Aapka kiya hua koi bhi kaam mere liye galti nahin hoga. Aur mujhe sata kar agar aapke chehre par ek pal bhi hansi aati hai, to aap chahe sata-sata kar mujhe maar daalein, mujhe koi shikayat nahin hogi.”

“Bilkul chup Geet. Dubara marne ki baat mazaak mein bhi mat karna.”

Their hug became tighter.