“How so?”
“Well, I just do.” He doesn’t try to explain.
I inhale and let out a sigh. “You do…”
“You are going down without a fight?” He asks in a low husky voice but doesn’t wait for my reply. “That’s a first!”
Weakly I chuckle and tighten my hold around him. “Well, you have to love me a bit more for I am a rebel, for I am crazy.” I pause. “Your crazy.”
Raag touches my head with his, as he says, “You are…I love my crazy.”
After what feels like a long time, I murmur, “Looks like the neighbors will be rising soon. See you in the morning?”
“It is almost dawn. I will be back in a few hours,” Raag says, and I turn toward the door.
Before going inside, balancing on my tiptoes, holding his hands for support, quietly, I kiss him on his cheek. “See you soon,” I say.
As I turn, taking a step toward the closed vine-covered peach double door, he tugs at my hand, and within seconds, I am in his embrace, staring in his eyes.
“You know I love you?” Raag asks, and I reply instantly, “That I know for sure.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Yes,” I say, gauging his expression.
“Not right away, not today, not this month or the next, not this year or the next, but maybe in the next fifty years…” Raag slowly releases me, although he’s still holding my hand in his. He gets down on one knee. “Maybe one day, someday, will you marry me?”
I tilt my head in astonishment and cannot hide my splitting grin. “I thought you would never ask.”
How does he manage to propose, surprising me, twice in one night!
“That’s not the answer.” He nods.
Somebody seems to be impatient. Good to be aware that the fire is not one side, it makes the two of us.
I look him in the eyes, glowing with an astonishing spark, showing the excitement of a young boy. I whisper, “Of course, yes, I will marry you!”
It’s perfect—this moment. There is Raag, and there is Mayuri, under the drizzling water. Raag swiftly pulls out that tiny treasure box from his pocket, and magically produces the precious blue stone.
Raag gently slides the shimmery blue ring on my ring finger. He plants a soft kiss on my palm, and I feel a sudden overwhelming urge to hug him. In an attempt of doing so, carelessly I throw myself on him, pushing him down on the floor and making him lose balance. I land marvelously on top of him.
“Whoa!” Raag exclaims just as we touch the ground. I don’t care about the embarrassment I cause myself; rather, I gaze at him resting my hands on the floor, holding him hostage between my arms where he lays disarmed. His lips are the only thing on my mind, and I bend down to kiss him.
Once I slowly pull back, he whispers, “I could get used to this.” I blush as I gaze into his eyes.
And then, there is a thud on the balcony door that slams open. “You guys are back! Right on time!” Bansi stands by the door startling me, and I hastily and clumsily get up off the ground.
Raag gets up leisurely. “You are also right on time, Bansari,” he teases her.
“Bansi for you,” she corrects him. “And, sorry I didn’t greet you well last night. I was very sleepy!” She is undoubtedly wide awake. Her pixie cut hair is combed, and she is into her red capris and a white T-shirt. Her dark red thick glasses rest on her nose, indicating her close departure for her morning class. Looking at her tiny lean figure, I wish someone should give her more points in the exam for her punctuality.
“It’s okay, I understand. Twelfth science is not easy on anyone,” Raag says and nods.
“You are right. Specifically, when your room partner whispers for hours in the middle of the night,” Bansi complains, then smirks at me.
“I am sorry. I am to blame equally,” Raag says. “My apologies, ma’am,” he adds and slightly bows, making Bansi smile, a shy smile for a change.
Bansi could be many things but a giggly teenager! Intelligence sometimes steals the everyday enjoyment of age and time. It is fun to witness my sister smile in a way that suits her age. I can’t recall witnessing such a moment in the history of time.
“It’s okay, Jiju. I read in the daytime, mostly,” she says, and almost squeals, “You are engaged? Congrats!” She looks at the ring and hugs me.
Yes, we sisters do hug on rare occasions regardless of the two-feet distance family rule.
Then she looks me into the eyes and warns, “Don’t tell Pappa. He will kill you!”
“I guess you both are well taught of your father’s tendencies,” Raag chimes in and the three of us burst into laughter.
*
As Raag departs, Bansi and I intently observe him going down the ladder, placing it in the backyard, and walking off the street. We stand side by side, resting our elbows on the balcony parapet.
“Stop ogling him!” Bansi exclaims, bumping my shoulder, and I blush.
I shove my ring at her. “I have official rights!”
“You might want to be prepared with an answer if Pappa or Mummy ask about your new jewelry.” She narrows her eyes at me. “So stop, show-off.” I frown at her and wonder if my parents are this observant.
As we head in, she pops the question, “Did you guys kiss?”
“What? How old are you?”
“Come on, you were on the floor on top of him! Of course you guys kissed!”
“I am not telling you,” I say, hopping in the bathroom to change into dry clothes. I wonder how they did not bother me even a tiny bit during the night. Everything was just perfect.
“That means you did. Yes, I knew it!” Bansi sounds ecstatic.
“Shut up! And let me change.” I change into yellow PJs and wrap a towel around my wet hair.
“By the way. Jiju is very handsome in person. He has that Punjabi touch to him.” Bansi shouts from outside.
“So Gujarati guys are not handsome?” I ask.
“Come on, you know what I mean. Of course, your fiancé is cute like Gujarati, but he is also tall and dashing like Punjabi,” she shouts yet again.
“Don’t shout. You’ll wake Mummy and Pappa,” I scold her in a low voice.
“How did he propose?” Bansi whispers, and I think she is leaning against the door.
I step out of the bathroom, dart for the bed, lay down over my tummy, and close my eyes. “Bansi, will you save some questions for tomorrow morning? I am tired.”
“If you tell me how Jiju proposed I could tell my friends, you know!”
“Do you girls not have enough geometry to discuss that you are interested in my chemistry?” I ask, covering my towel-wrapped head under my soft pillow.
“We are a herd of studiously boring sheep. Hearing about someone’s romantic encounters is the only fun thing we have.” She tries to sound dramatically sad.
I decide to spill some beans just for the sake of her entertainment. Sleepily I speak through the pillow. “Raag took me to Manek Chowk, got down on one knee, and proposed.”
“So romantic!” I hear her right into my ears, and I figure she is sitting by my bed, keeping her mouth right next to my ear. She continues, “You know a guy proposing to a girl is rare in this city!”