MishBir: Someone You Love(d)

30|| Ninety Days And Mishti Agarwal (b)

Day 15, London. 3:35 AM

Mishti was sitting in her room, working when a familiar aroma began over powering her senses. She immediately looked up from the laptop, her heart beating wildly against her chest even though her rational mind knew what she was expecting to happen couldn't happen. Abir was in office, she had video called Ketki, who had also joined the office much to Mishti's surprise and through her, she had seen a fleeting glance of him - he wasn't aware but she had seen him, and it had overwhelmed her - the knowledge that near or far - he mattered, he always would matter.

The door of her room was pushed open and the maid walked in, carrying a bowl and a mischievous smile. Mishti already knew what was in that bowl - it was her favorite aroma in the world, but she was confused as to how was it so nostalgic.

Grinning with visible excitement, Mishti took the bowl and scooped out a spoonful khichdi, letting it melt in her mouth and she moaned in delight. It was exactly how she liked it, and more than that, it was exactly how his khichdi tasted.

"Did I pass?", The maid asked eagerly, and Mishti laughed, nodding, "With flying colours, but how?"

The maid giggled, wiping her hands in her skirt, as she remembered the morning she had had.

"Your boyfriend video called on Ni Sir's phone and instructed me, in so much detail. Measured quantity of every spice and every ingredient, guided me through it to the T. Said he just wanted you to feel home even if you are continents apart", she answered, and Mishti felt elated. She couldn't stop smiling.

"Thank you Gracie", she acknowledged the maid's efforts too, and once she left, she was quick to dial Abir.

"You Ajeeb Rajvansh, how did you get a British lady to cook Indian food with such brilliancy?", she fired into the phone, and heard him laugh loudly at her tone.

"You liked it?", he questioned softly, already aware she did just because of how happy she sounded. Making Mishti happy was the easiest task in the world.

"Loved it, and you just increased Gracie's workload because I am going to make her cook this every day", she beamed, and he laughed at her excitement. Mishti heard someone called for him and he was about to disconnect when she stopped him, catching him unaware.

"Abir", the way she called his name stopped him immediately and he hummed, not knowing what to expect.

"I will wait for you to cook me my khichdi again", and she cut the call, smiling. She knew he was smiling too.

Day 22, London. 6:45 PM

Mishti trembled and staggered a few steps back, before loosing her balance and falling on the floor, hurting her hand. Her eyes still stayed focused on the cupboard - precisely, the last shelf of her cupboard where she had just found her well hidden first aid box.

Memories hit her in full force as those feelings consumed her, the pain and the need to feel something else than that pain. It was almost like a deja-vu happening to her.

She managed to sit on her knees as she dared to open the box. Inside it, apart from her antiseptic and bandages, also lay her then solace, wrapped in a thin newspaper. For that fleeting moment in time, she was reminded of the peace it brought along, those thin slices on her skin. She looked down at her left wrist, the familiar marks had faded for most part.

But before she could fall down that pit, she was startled when out of nowhere she recollected Abir's face from the day he had first seen the scar on her right wrist and the next morning when she had confessed about all of it to him. It jerked her out of that trance and she got up hurriedly, putting the box away but breathing heavily.