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Aditya's Pov
The midnight sky, dark and velvety, was covered in the blanket of limitless stars, with a huge silvery-shimmering orb, actively playing its role as a natural lantern. The moon's serene presence whispered mystic hues into the starry empyrean, resonating nothing but calmness and tranquility amidst the noise and clamor of cities.
It was around midnight 1:00 am when we reached back home, famished and exhausted. Scuttling straight to my room, I freshened up and changed into a comfortable T-shirt and trousers before lying on my bed.
Message me when you reach back home.
Contemplation soared within me as I recalled her words. After a few moments of rumination, I took a deep breath and pinged her on WhatsApp even though I knew she'd be sleeping at this hour.
Reached :)
Fuzzy sensations hit me when the single tick soon turned into a double, finally transforming into blues within a few seconds of my message. My lips tilted in a smile propelling me to turn on my position giddily, reading and rereading her message.
Okay. Sleep well, You must be tired from the journey :)
My lips succumbed to the pressure of my canines as I struggled to contain the grin forming on my face. Blowing air out of my mouth, I quickly typed,
Were you by any chance waiting for my message?
Never have I felt jittery while talking to a woman. And here she is, all set to make me experience all the unexplored and unimagined.
Eager and jumpy, I plopped over my stomach with my legs dangling from the bed's edge, my palms framing my face as I awaited her message.
Spending a good two minutes to reply which I assumed was the consequence of her contemplation and ruddiness, she responded,
No, no, I was sleeping only. Just woke up now to have some water.
Liar.
Amused by her justification, I let loose my chuckle. Her spontaneity here and her spitfire during our conversation was enthralling.
Acha ji? Such a coincidence that you felt the need to have water at the same time I reached home.
Seconds ticked yet her reply didn't come. Had she slept?
My heart dropped at the thought.
Before I could race my mind in a hundred different directions, the message notification on my phone called for my attention.
Where's the innocent Aditya who I have been Rokafied to? Because he is a tease here.
I wonder if it was natural to feel both peaceful and unnerving while conversing with your fiancé for the first time. Because, here my stomach is occupied with not only butterflies, but also squirrels and birds. Flapping and hopping all the edges and my sides.
Who is a tease here? Me?
Haanji bilkul. You. Her reply was instantaneous.
You are so mistaken Missus because, this Aditya here is the same innocent Aditya you have been, wait what, Rokafied? Yeh kya hai?
I could vividly imagine her grin and blush before mulling over what was next to type.
Rokafied. Means, the one jiska roka ho gaya. Acha word hai na?
My heart palpitated and the urge to see her twinkling eyes while she blabbers overpowered my senses.
Bohot acha. I smiled, amused at witness her ability to twist words and meanings.
I know. I know. Ms. Riya is good at giving names.
Feigned smugness laced in her message eliciting a chuckle to fall past my throat.
So proud and haughty here, huh? Wait for some time because the moment I will be in front of you, you'll again switch into your sharmili mode. That too with your miserable attempts to pretend that you were not looking at me.
Five Minutes. Thirty five seconds. Yes, I counted. No reply.
Sharmili Mode has been on, everyone.
Kya hua? Where's that spontaneous Riya I have been rokafied to? Because she is a blushing beauty here.
Lae! Using my own words on me. Not fair.
A tip, you guys: Trap your woman in the web of her words and enjoy to see her struggling to defend herself with all her might.
A dazzling image of hers flashed in my mind. Her lips parted, nose scrunched and eyes popped. It was astounding how after sharing a few minutes of conversation, I was able to strikingly conceptualize her expressions.
You are distracting me from my question about you not sleeping, Haina?
The smile never ceased on my face, though my eyes dropped with every word I typed.
Ohho. Fine, I was awake. Like not awake-awake. But I put an alarm on my phone at your expected time for arrival. Ab khush?
Bohot Khush.
A lapse of comfortable silence transpired before I initiated,
Acha, Let's sleep now?
The necessity to sleep conquered my mind, otherwise, I would have never let this conversation end.
Hanji. You will be tired. Take rest. Her answer came, the one I imagined with her silken voice.
I nodded, exhausted by the day's events.
You too.
A thought crossed and I hurriedly typed before she could exit the application.
Riya?
Hmm?
You looked beautiful today.
You too.
What? Beautiful?
My chest vibrated with laughter and I rolled to the other side of my bed, suddenly bashful.
Arey, no. I meant you also looked nice today. Green suits you.
Warmth crept through my neck at her confession. Green suits me. Damn, I need some more green colored clothes. Hell. I need a whole wardrobe in green.
My fingers fiddled with the phone as I typed and then erased every color suits you, whether blue or maroon.
Weighing the initial stage of our relationship, I decided otherwise. I didn't want to make her uncomfortable by overwhelming her with my words of admiration.
Baby steps Aditya. Baby steps.
Thank you :).
I played the safe card. Yawning for the umpteenth time.
Okay. Now sleep. It's already late. Her reply came.
Hanji. I typed, putting my phone on the charger.
Goodnight Aditya.
The somnolence flew off the window and I grinned like a buffoon eyeing my name in the chat box. Real mature, Adi. Real mature.
Goodnight Riya.
My eyes shut on their own accord, a serene smile parading my lips reminiscing the day's events. Her fluttery eyes and skittish smile, our first conversation, and us being Rokafied, everything played on a loop until the darkness consumed my exhausted self, transporting me into a peaceful slumber.
*******************
Freelancing is effortless.
Help me find this person so that I can toss this human over my bed and tickle incessantly until his/her perception changes.
A harsh groan fell past my lips when my phone rang for the zillionth time in the last twelve hours.
Breathing in and out, I attempted to calm the ferocity bubbling in my nerves and picked up the phone of Mr. Avinash. Contrary to his name, his presence in my life was nothing but destruction.
With his unceremonious requirements, stubborn attitude, and persistent calls, my work-life balance was on the verge of destruction. With I-do-not-know-anything-but-want-everything-that-too-with-paying-nothing explicitly written on his face, this client of mine was a fitting example of a person with a lost cause. Reason?
He wanted me to create a mobile application for his new venture but had the least surety about what kind of features, purpose, and target market he wanted it for.
The one thing he was certain about was his payment. If it was in his hands, he would pay me a penny less, never more.
"Yes, Mr. Avinash," My tone laced with courtesy, concealing the tired sigh my lips escaped. It was his twenty-fifth-something call where he would instruct me something over the phone and later, draft a mail which would reflect the antithesis of the same.
"Ah yes Aditya, did you go through the mail?" Urgency filled his tone, "I've made some changes in the whole plan. Contrary to the earlier target market of kids, now it is young adults. And Yes, for the features, I was thinking..."
One hour. A full-fledged sixty-seven minutes went down the drain, hearing his expectations and requirements. My fingers worked at a supersonic speed, penning each of the requirements in my diary.
"Okay. Is this the final plan now?" I confirmed, rubbing my temples in both distress and frustration.
"Absolutely." He exclaimed, "Only little changes are to be made here and there, nothing much. However, if any additions have to be made, I'll call you again." I facepalmed, crying, weeping, screaming internally.
No. Please No. No more calls. For God's sake, I am not even married yet. I want to reach my wedding venue sane and sound.
"Okay." I replied and disconnected the call before his overactive brain could start functioning again.
One day.
One day, my Digital Dreams will grow to an extent when I will freely be able to refuse clients considering a time-crunch and incompatible objectives. For now, I have to accept what comes my way for I need both, clients and money to expand my freelancing.
Dad used to tell me when I was a child that making money isn't easy. There exists uncountable efforts, unnoticed annoyance, restless nights, unacknowledged sacrifices, and limitless patience that go into every dime you earnâthings that other people don't observe or appreciate.
His words felt all the more relevant with clients like these. T This shaped my perception to put my family's and my own hard work ahead of any unnecessary materialistic indulgences that will only cause severe financial hardship down the road in exchange for transient pleasures.
Have you ever noticed that it takes a lot of time for water to move upwards in a pipeline, to reach the top of the building, but it takes only a few seconds for it to go downwards?
Similar to this, achieving financial success needs years and years of sweat and labor, yet it only takes a few seconds to deplete all of it due to our irrational materialistic decisions and haphazard financial objectives.
I also want to reach the top, but at the same time, want to remain grounded as well, and it's just the beginning for me to go upward so that I can provide my wife and family with the financial support they are righteous to get.
*********
"Oye Isha. No. Not my phone." Kunal's haphazard plea reverberated outside my room, startling me from my state of slumber.
"Kya hai Kunal Bhai, you never let me touch your phone, forget about using it." The troublemaker whined, barging into my room. The scene unfolded with an impatient Isha and an agitated Kunal following her. "De de na yaar." Kunal pleaded, sprinting behind her, his steps rushed and impatient.
Isha giggled, shrieking in horror after Kunal tried to lunge at her, "After a lot of planning and plotting, I've managed to sneak into your password and take hold of it. Forget about your phone for some time now." She guffawed, dodging the impact.
Kunal roared, his pace hastening while Isha dodged everything on the way before racing towards the washroom and locking herself up. The former gasped, banging on the door like a possessed madman.
"Isha..," His voice dumbed down to a pleading whisper, "No WhatsApp and no reading chats, please." Horror was crystal clear written on his face. I snickered, shutting up the moment the bull turned his head to glare at me.
His expression soon transformed as he angled his neck back, mumbling in the softest voice he could muster, "I am your elder brother, Haina? Aise karegi?"
"Haan bilkul. Aap batao, karo negotiate thoda sa." The satan spluttered.
Such an Opportunist.
"Bata kya chahiye? Clothes? Makeup? A new sling bag? Shoes? Anything you say, I will buy it. Bas phone de de vaapis." He pleaded, on the verge of sobbing.
Silence hung in the air, an atmosphere of anticipation around, awaiting her answer.
Isha being Isha probably would be contemplating the genuineness of the offer,
"Some trousers and a tote bag. And a pair of sneakers. Pakka Promise?"
"Haan haan, Pakka Promise." Kunal's rushed voice filled the room, attempting to unfasten the door.
"If you didn't fulfill your promise Bhai, I'll tell Mom that it was you who broke her favorite piece of crockery that massi gifted her last year." Laughter vibrated in my chest and I covered the same under my fist witnessing the creeped-out expressions of Kunal.
"And, And I will also tell Dad, that you were talking with your girlfriend late at night the other day. Not Mohit Bhaiya from Canada." Theatrics aired in my abode with a haughty sister on the other end and a dramatic brother on the other. It was a delightful sight to watch Kunal's forehead defeatedly resting against the closed door.
Life is a circle, what goes around, comes around. I laughed at the thought.
Pride filled me for Isha as she unknowingly helped in taking revenge on him for the other day when Mom and Dad told me about Riya for the first time.
"How the hell did you know that." Astounded, he exclaimed, "Isko chodke aayo iske hostel vaapis. God knows what else she knows." He peered at me in expectancy, frustration dripping from his tone.
"Let me call Dad."
"Oye oye, nahin. Pakka promise, I will not back out." And, Isha was out, wearing a proud smirk on her face. Handing him the phone, she walked animatedly towards the bed as if a Queen of some kingdom.
Plopping beside me, she now grabbed my phone from the nightstand. Kunal absentmindedly left the room inspecting his phone from all sides, relieved to have his phone back with him, safe and sound.
What fun does she get sneaking into our phones every time?
A few seconds in my phone pinged. My eyes widened, my heart dropped and fear consumed my mind. As a reflex, I lunged in her direction only to witness her eyes blazing in exuberance.
"Oye hoye, Bhabhi ka message aaya." She wiggled her brows teasingly, scrolling the notification panel.
Restless, I snatched my phone, "Idhar de, mera phone."
After I woke up at noon today, the first thing that came into my mind was to message her. To which she replied that her phone would be switched off for a few hours. She was out for an invigilation in one of the competitive exams being held in her college.
"Offo bhai, you can talk to her anytime. Let me talk to my Bhabhi first." She mumbled, agitated, grabbing the phone from my hands.
My constant pleadings, a plethora of offers, zillion glares, and uncountable whines fell on deaf ears. Torturous ten minutes later, she returned my phone, a satisfied grin embarking on her face.
Finally.
"I have given her my number, and from now on I'll talk to her over my phone." She giddied, still lazing in my room.
"Haan theek hai. Now go to your room and study. Every time she needs either a phone or clothes or wants to blackmail." I scowled, my mind already planning to punch different passwords for each application.
What? I am Rokafied now. I need protected passwords.
Her eyes narrowed in slits, "You have also become like Kunal Bhai. Grumpy and Sadu. I know, ab se you will also not give me your phone, Haina? Kalyugi Brothers." She whined in vexation and stomped out of my room.
Thank God.
Sighing in relief, I bolted the door before she decided to barge in my room once again.
Hey.
Hey.
How are you?
Good but tired. You?
Hmm. Tough duty.
And I am Good but work's taking a toll today.
On Sunday?
Hanji. One project has to be finished this week, and the client is being fussy, slowing my pace. By the way, you are also working on Sunday.
Arey, but I don't work every Sunday. It happens rarely.
Oh, How are you coping with the client?
Before I could type an answer, Mom's voice reached my ears, summoning me downstairs for dinner.
Listen, when you'll be free?
Probably around ten, kyu?
Can I text you then, if you don't mind? Mom's calling for dinner now.
Hanji. We'll talk then.
Hanji.
My gaze fitted to the wall clock, mentally calculating how much more time till I message her.
Two more hours to go.
**************
Heya Dear Ones!
Long-term financial Goals or Short-term luxuries? What will you choose and why?
Did you like the chapter? Do share your opinions with me, it will help me improve.
Also If you liked the chapter, Please Do vote (the star iconâ) and comment as a token of appreciation. It will mean a lot to me and motivate me to write moreâ¤ï¸
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Lots of Love
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