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"Arre, gir gaye"

Kittu’s voice could be heard across the field. She was still a little far but close enough to see them all over the muddy ground.

[Oh, you both fell down]

Piyali’s eyes flew open in shock. Her heart started beating fast. She quickly stood up, her cheeks were burning red like a tomato, holding her dupatta tightly to cover her neck.

"Kittu” she whispered but instead of explaining anything, she turned and ran, her anklets were ringing as she hurried toward the path towards their house.

Kittu came closer, still giggling. “Bhaiya aap toh poori tarah kichad se naha liye ho"

[Bhaiya, you are completely drenched in mud.]

Samar was still sitting on the ground, his kurta covered with soil, his hair messy. Sitting himself up on one elbow, he shot Kittu a sharp look.

“Bas Kittu” he muttered, his voice low but firm. His eyes held an irritation that silenced her immediately.

[Enough kittu]

✿

The evening was settling in. The village looked golden under the setting sun.

At the Das house, the smell of the freshly cooked meal was coming from the kitchen where Mrs. Das was busy cooking.

In the courtyard, a cow was standing tied near the tulsi plant, moving its tail slowly.

Inside the house, Piyali was tired. All afternoon she had helped her mother with cooking, cutting vegetables, washing clothes, and even spending time with kittu. 

By evening, her body felt weak. Quietly, she went to her small room. The room had plain walls with small flower prints, a wooden bed with a cotton flower bedsheet and a small table with her books on it.

She pushed her dupatta aside, laying down  and within minutes fell asleep.

Her face looked calm. Her eyelashes rested on her cheeks and her hair was spread on the pillow, some falling on her face.

The window was open and a soft breeze moved the curtain slowly.

At that time, Samar entered the house.

Mrs. Das had called him earlier,

“Samar beta, come here, I need help in the storeroom. Your hands are strong, you will lift them easily.”

“Yes Mausi, I am coming.” he answered.

Now he walked inside with his quiet steps. The Das house was smaller than his big haveli but it always felt warm to him. Maybe because Piyali’s presence filled it.

Mrs. Das went to the backyard, asking him to wait. Left alone, Samar’s eyes began to search for Piyali without him realizing it. He looked at the kitchen, then the verandah. No sign of her.

“Where could she be?” he muttered softly.

As he walked past a door, he noticed something inside. He stopped.

It was Piyali. She was sleeping on her bed, unaware of him.

Samar froze at the door. His heart skipped. He knew it wasn’t right to enter a girl’s room, but his feet didn’t stop. The house was silent. Slowly, he stepped inside.

He went near her bed and slowly crouched down. She looked so peaceful. A loose strand of hair covered her face. She moved slightly in her sleep, her hand close to her chest.

Samar’s eyes softened. Carefully, he reached his hand out and tucked the strand of hair behind her ear without touching her skin.

“Pagli” he whispered with a small smile “all day you work so much… and then fall asleep like this.”

He watched her for a while. Her lips looked like she was smiling in a dream. He wondered what she was dreaming about.

For a moment, he imagined her as his, someone he could care for every day. Someone who could stay so u guarded around him. The thought made his chest feel heavy.

Her hand moved in sleep and brushed against his arm. His intense eyes fall on it. He wanted to hold it but he stopped himself. Slowly, he pulled his arm back.

"Its never enough." he whispered again.

After a few minutes, he stood up. He looked at her one last time, the curtain of her room moving with the breeze, her calm face, her slow breathing. She looked ethereal. He wanted to remember this sight.

Then he turned and quietly left the room.

When Mrs. Das returned, Samar was already in the courtyard, looking normal as if nothing had happened.

He had seen differently tomorrow, not just as the shy girl he liked but as someone whose peace had become precious to him.

The evening sun was almost gone  when Samar finally finished unloading the big wooden cupboard from his jeep with the help of a young boy.

At first, Mrs. Das didn’t want him to do it. She said softly “No beta, it won’t look nice if you carry such a load. You must still have other work left.”

“Maaji, this is not a burden. It’s on my way only. Please don’t worry. It will save you and your family some trouble.”

At last, she agreed. Samar delivered the cupboard safely and before going home, he remembered Diwali was near.

His family needed new clothes and things.

In the town market, he bought a kurta for his father, a sari for his mother and suit for Kittu.

Then his eyes stopped at a marron dress. It was simple and elegant, just like Piyali. He thought then smiled faintly and bought it, hiding it in a packet.

He was driving back, the jeep was full of bags when suddenly a truck came from the wrong side.

Samar tried to turn away, the brakes screeched but the crash could not be avoided.

The jeep’s front hit hard.

News spread fast in the village,

“Sharma ji’s jeep has met with an accident…”

The men rushed first. Ajay ran from his house the moment he heard the news. The girls were stopped but Kittu and Piyali still ran behind.

When they reached the spot, the jeep was damaged hard, Piyali froze.

The jeep’s front was crushed and on the road there were blood marks near the driver’s seat. Shopping bags were lying scattered around-  kurta, crackers and sweets. And right near her feet, a pair of glass bangles.

The same bangles she had once wanted in the mela but didn’t buy because they were costly.

She bent down, keeping up the broken pieces and tears filled her eyes.

Kittu tried to lighten the moment but her eyes were already welled up. "Shant hoja piu, kuch nahi hoga."

[Calm down, Piu, nothing will happen.]

The elders were busy asking about where people had taken him.

At the Hospital

Samar was brought in just in time. He had lost blood and needed stitches near his forehead but the doctors said he would  have to stay for a few weeks for safety purposes and recover with proper rest.

When he opened his eyes the next day, drowsy and tired, he saw his father sitting near him and Maasa praying from inside.

"Hil maat samar..Doctor ji ne kaha hai tujhe ek hafte Tak Aram ki jarurat hain"

“Don’t move, Samar” his father said sharply. “The doctor said you must rest for one week.”

Mrs. Das also came with food. She told Maasa gently

"Didi, maine ghar par banaya hai. Aap log kha lijiye, mein bhejti rahungi."

[Didi, I have cooked at home. You eat this, I will keep sending tiffins.”]

From that day, she made food daily for Samar and his family.

Mr. Das and ajay managed all the hospital papers and bills while Kittu and Piyali were kept at home.

Piyali tried, a lot to hide her emotions in front of the elders whenever they came home But her swollen eyes and pale face told the truth 

Mrs. Das didn’t ask questions. She silently consoled her, giving each little update about his health to them.

“Piu, you should not go to the hospital. You are sensitive; you cannot bear the smell and sights there. But remember, these tiffins going from your hands are very important for Samar. And you are not eating properly either.”

From then on, Piyali put all her love into cooking. She didn’t eat until Samar’s food was ready. She made sure the sabzi was less spicy and more nutritious and the rotis were soft.

One evening, when everyone was asleep, she stood alone in Sharma’s kitchen, kneading dough slowly, carefully. The smell of halwa was filling the air.

She packed the steel tiffin for Ajay to take all the way to the hospital then touched the lid softly and whispered “Jaldi aajaiye… ab aur acha nahi lag raha."

[Please come soon… it doesn’t feel good anymore without you.]

The kitchen was filled with the smell of Steaming rice and dal, along with mixed vegetables sabji and the sweet gazar ka halwa that Piyali was making especially for him.

Her dupatta was tucked at her waist as she carefully added the sugar, making sure it's not to much as if her cooking itself was a prayer for Samar’s health.

Suddenly, quick footsteps came in the courtyard. Kittu rushed inside, her breathing fast.

“Piyali..Jaldi aa.” she called, her face full of both panic and happiness.

[Piyali...come fast.]

Piyali turned at once, whispering inside her breath. “Ki holo akhon?"

[What happened now?]

Kittu held up the phone, her eyes shining. "Samar Bhai ka phone aya hai”

[Samar brother is on the call]

The whole world went blurry for Piyali. Her knees felt weak hearing that, her hands shook badly as she held the phone.

She pressed it close to her ear, scared that if she didn’t hold it tightly, Samar’s voice might slip away again. Tears filled her eyes.

Then she heard his voice, rasp yet weak. Not as strong, but still alive.

“Piyali….Piyali…”

Her lips parted, tears rolling down her cheeks. For a moment, she could not speak. At last, her voice came out  “Aap theek hain? Kitne kamzor lag rahe hai.."

[Are you okay? You sound so weak..]

Samar gave a light chuckle under his breath, as if he knew she was crying.

"Ham theek hain...Jaldi laut aayenge. Chinta mat karo.” (Yes, I’m fine. I’ll be back soon. Don’t worry.)

She covered her mouth with her hand, nodding hard though he could not see her.

His voice softened more. “Khud ko bhookha mat rakhna. Waha hu nahi matlab ye nahi kuch  jaan nahi raha...time par khao”

[Don’t keep yourself hungry. Just because I am not there doesn’t mean I don't know anything….eat on time.]

She could only whisper a faint “hmm.”

Then his soft voice came, as if he were trying to hide a faint smile from everyone while whispering.

“Aur…. Aaj kuch meetha bhej dogi? Bahut din ho gaye.”

[And….Can you send something sweet today? It’s been a long time.]

For the first time in many days, Piyali smiled genuinely. Her lips trembled, but the smile stayed on her lips.

“Banayi hai apke liye...ache se kha lijiyega."  she whispered.

[I made it for you… please eat it properly.]

When the call ended, she held the phone to her chest and closed her eyes, breathing heavily.

Through that voice, a part of him had returned to her.

At the hospital, everything smelled of medicines. A small table on samar's bed was kept, a steel tiffin box was opened and the smell of freshly made food filled with air, especially the halwa.

The doctor looked at Samar and said “You should eat light food. A little sweet is fine but not too much.”

Before anyone else could say anything, Samar spoke firmly like a stubborn child.

“Sab khayenge hum. Jo dawai deni ho, de dijiye. Lekin yeh halwa hum hi khayenge.”

[I will eat it all. Give me whatever medicine you want, but this sweet is mine.]

Everyone stared at him. Ajay laughed.

“Arre bhaiya, itna pyaar khane se?”

[Brother, such love for food?]

Mrs. Das shook her head with a smile.

Mrs. Sharma smiled, saying "Khane do mere bache ko..koi kuch nahi bolega."

[Let my child eat… no one will say anything.]

They all thought Samar was just craving tasty food after many days of hospital meals. But only Samar knew the truth.

Every bite tasted like home. The spice, the little sweetness, this was Piyali’s cooking. He could feel her care in each spoon. It wasn’

t only food. It was her love, her prayers, her tears.

He finished it all, ignoring the doctor and family’s tease. Then he leaned back on the pillow, a small smile on his lips.

Softly, almost to himself, he whispered

“Piyali…”

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