Chapter 61 Samar donned the koti #3
“Umm… do you think I should send the photo to Iram, Begumjaan and Sarah right now or tomorrow?” She grabbed her mobile.
“Will we have network where we are going?” Her wrist was wrapped in strong fingers.
And she set the mobile down on the table between them.
Samar turned her hand palm up and pressed his thumb into the centre of it. She inhaled.
He raised his eyes to hers. She exhaled. And his thumb began to run circles on her skin.
“Is this really happening?” She asked him.
“I have earned every moment of this reality with you,” he said. “Don’t make me doubt it now.”
She chuckled, looking down.
“Can you look here, Amaal?”
“Hmm?” She raised her brows.
“Keep looking.”
“Why?”
“Because I want to look at my wife.”
She slapped his hand away, looking out of the window. She could feel his eyes on her, the warmth of his smile on her, and she beamed at the sun outside the window. She could take the shine of this one. The other one was too beautiful and too bright for her to absorb all of it all at once.
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“Dr. and Mrs. Dixit,” the Captain announced. “We will be landing shortly. Please fasten your seatbelts.”
The plane tilted, and she peeped out of the window. Land, farms and forests, a river. Very tiny houses. A city on both sides of a river. Not Shimla. A city 45 minutes away from Srinagar by air. Not Delhi.
“Jammu?” She squealed. “It’s Jammu, right? This is Jammu. Look, there’s Tawi.” Amaal leaned up to the window as much as she could with her seatbelt on, pushing her nose to the glass. “You brought me to Jammu? But why? What are we going to do here?”
The plane tilted again and began to circle the city, the sun glaring in her eyes.
She glanced at Samar, and he was looking at her like all his sunshine was deposited on her.
It could be, with the amount of sun on her in this moment.
She shielded her eyes with her palm and squinted at him — “Now what’s the secret?
I already know it’s Jammu. Tell me now.”
“Hmm.” He remained silent. He was a master at the silent treatment. This time, though, he was also giving her the amused-at-a-child treatment with that indulgent smirk.
The plane touched the ground and taxied for not even a minute before they were parking at a terminal. He unfastened his seatbelt but she remained, lounging back. Samar got to his feet, raising his eyebrows at her.
“I am happy right here, you go and come. I’ll wait.”
He leaned over her and grabbed her by the waist. She gasped. He sat her up, his thumbs depressing over her stomach and running circles. Amaal’s breath hitched.
“I have built enough strength to carry two of you again.” He spoke into her ear, unfastening her seatbelt. “The question is, do you want the cabin crew to get the show?”
She immediately pushed to her feet, making him lean back in amusement.
“Don’t be so happy, wherever we are going, I will find a knife.”
“You need two to fight.”
“Not to fight.” She smiled sweetly at him, walking ahead. His deep chuckle was so rich and so hearty and so incredibly happy. Amaal didn’t even mind the hot afternoon breeze of Jammu City as it hit her face the moment she stepped down the plane.
“Your idea of honeymoon is a little hot,” she sassed, grabbing her saree pallu before it flew away, holding it around her hip.
“This way.” He opened his hand again and she took it, walking across the small private terminal side and out the other side. A crew member stood, Samar’s duffle in hand, waiting. He left her hand to accept the bag and she kept walking towards the parking lot, wondering where their party Innova was.
“Amaal?”
“Hmm?” She turned around.
“Did you send the photo to Iram and all?”
“No, I was thinking tonight…” she froze. “My mobile is on the plane!” She began to scramble for it when he pulled it out of his pocket.
She shut her eyes, breathing a sigh of relief as well as containing the flutter in her heart.
“How is it,” he walked closer to her, “that you only forget your mobile when you are with me?”
“It’s not particular to you.” She craned her neck up to his tipped chin. “I sometimes forget it when I am excited or nervous.”
His chin dipped, their faces suddenly too close for a public parking lot where he was as well known as the next celebrity. “Which one is it today?”
She gaped at him, then stepped back — “That depends on where we are going. You had surprises for me, right?” She fingered her Mangalsutra.
“One is here.” He nudged his chin to the car in the lot in front of them. She looked at it. A beast of a car. Hunter green body. Nice colour. Amaal stepped back and read the name. Thar. Her lip jutted out — “What’s the surprise? Is this your car?”
“You liked this car.”
“I did?” She turned to look at him. And his eyes were bugged.
“Yes,” he said. “Years ago, you mentioned you liked this car. We were driving back and you said something along the lines of ‘What a car!’ for a green Thar exactly like this. Not exactly, because they have upgraded the models over the years. You don’t remember?”
“I mean… I might have said it because really cool colour.” She sputtered, smiling indulgently at his deer-in-the-headlights expression. “Oh god, you bought this car for me?”
“Hmm,” he grunted, grumped, and then burst into a chuckle at himself. “I should have thought better. You call cars by the names of their colours.”
“I love it.” She tipped sideways on him. “It has that ‘Tu janta nahi mera baap kaun hai’[210] vibes. Suits me.”
“It better.” He popped her up. “Because I’ve bought it and kept it hidden. I never used it much, thinking about telling you by taking you for a drive. But you never were in Shimla long enough for an opportunity like that. It’s an old car now, but ours.”
“And where is it taking us?” She twined her arm through his.
“Patience,” he caught her chin in his palm. “Patience.”
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“Udhampur.” She read the milestone on the way down the highway. “We are going to Udhampur?”
“Hmm.”
Amaal gaped at him. He looked happy, excited, slightly nervous.
But not nostalgic or sad. They were going to his family home.
She was sure now. Her surety was rewarded when he turned out of the town and stopped outside a set of wood and iron gates.
Samar left the car idling and stepped out, opening the gates.
He drove the car in and Amaal got her first look at the house where he had been born.
It was beautiful. Small, cottage-like, with a children’s painting-like roof.
Red tiles thatched it and the body gleamed white.
There were windows, lots of them. And what appeared to be an arched doorway.
Her door was pulled open and she glanced at him.
“One of your many homes.” He opened his hand to her. She took it, and stepped out with his hand on her waist. It was a little bit of a jump to the ground but he steadied her.
“This house looks brand new.”
“I have been renovating it for the last six months.”
Her mouth dropped open.
“Don’t worry, I was stealing your plans for the Srinagar house and feeding them to the Interior Designer here.”
“Thank you.” She grinned, rounding the car and stepping up into the garden space where the grass was green, trimmed, and bushes freshly planted.
“Somebody has planted them this morning.” She accused.
“There was nobody to take care of it, so I had them come and add the garden yesterday. You are free to do anything you want.”
“Of course I will.” She shrugged one shoulder. “Who asked for your permission?”
His laughter was heavy with the songs of stray birds and she stopped in her tracks.
There, hidden behind a tall bush, was a hammock, stringed between two big peru trees. Amaal whirled. Samar was still laughing, pushing a pot of lilies aside as he made his way to her. He stilled. “What happened?”
“You did this?” Her voice broke. His eyes followed behind her and a smile touched them.
“A hammock like this has built an entire house around it in Srinagar, it was only fair we have it here.”
She pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes, shaking, so overwhelmed that neither tears flowed nor stayed inside.
“Amaal.” His cajoling voice made an endearment out of her name, his arms wrapping around her until her forehead was on his chest. It was so surreal that he could make so much out of her name. “Don’t cry.”
“Don’t tell me what to do.” She croaked, pushing her head deeper into him. His chest vibrated.
“You want me to take it off?”
“Don’t you dare!” She pulled back, glaring at him.
“So you weren’t crying after all,” he joked, patting his thumb over her dried cheek. She bit it.
“Ow.” He shook his thumb, holding it away from her. She grinned, kissing the edge of his jaw — “Thank you.”
“You want to go inside now?”
“Hmm.” She reached for his thumb but he pulled it to his chest. “No way.”
Amaal sputtered, following him up the verandah and to the main door. “Come on, carry me inside.”
He grunted. “You had your chance on the plane.”
She shook her head, eyeing his back flex in that perfectly moulded kurta and koti as he turned the key in the padded lock.
He pulled open the first screen door and went in again for the main door, using the bunch of his keys with such practised ease that she was sure he had spent an ungodly amount of time here in the months they had been apart and working towards earning this day.
“Come.” He stood to the side, the doors open. Amaal looked ahead, the alley flooded with sunlight in front of her. She walked up to the threshold and gasped as her feet left the floor.