Kuhoo:
Right from my childhood to the age of twenty nine, I had always been praised for my sharp memory. Genes of my scholar ancestors were a boon in my life, be it when I used to recite all the eighteen Adhyaayas of Bhagvat Gita at the tender age of nine, or the time when I cleared neurosurgery entrance.
But then, just the way, along with its life-filling pastel colors, satin touch petals and enchanting sweet fragrance, rose also possessed thorns, which pricked and pierced skin causing bleeding pain; the memory I believed as a life changing boon also came with a hidden curse. The moment my emotions triggered it to show up on the surface I realized how devastatingly painful existence of memories could be.
But weren't the thorns designed to protect the rose from hands plucking it and animals crushing it? They never harmed the rose itself, did they? Only if I could reverse the pin-point directions of my aching memories for them to protect me instead of harming my life to the limit of affecting simple activities such as buying clothes.
"Ready for it?" Mahil encouraged while sauntering towards the shop.
Not wanting to let him down, I followed the man half-heartedly. My insides churned at the thought of buying a lehenga as we reached in front of the electric door that opened automatically on sensing our footsteps.
"Trust me you won't regret this," Mahil repeated his words from sometime earlier before walking inside, leaving no room for me to back out. He was immediately attended by one of the staffs who took us to the shop owner.
"Perks of being popular huh? Are you this famous that random people working in restaurants and stores recognize you? How was I so oblivious to this?" I whispered as we sauntered side by side towards the elevator that took us to owner's cabin.
He chuckled, "I'm not 'THAT' famous. I usually recommend this place to my clients. Mrs. Singhal has the best collection in town, so we're kind of professional acquaintances."
"Oh, right. Why do I keep forgetting that you choreograph all those big-fat international Indian weddings?" I shook my head.
"Mr. Mahil Malhotra, I'm surprised you're here all by yourself," A lady in her mid-fifties stared at Mahil while adjusting her specs.
"We are looking for two nice outfits for wedding," He said taking a seat.
"For real? Only if you listened to me back then, this wouldn't have taken so long. Aishwarya has a two year old daughter by now," Mrs. Singhal gave him a pointed look and then smiled turning to my side forwarding a huge catalogue of custom-designed wedding outfits, "I'm so happy that he finally got you here. Would you like to have one of these? Wait, should I get a little altered version of the one he had chosen?"
Mahil coughed listening to the lady's words and I looked animatedly between the two, unable to decipher the meaning of her words.
"You're getting it all wrong," Mahil cleared his throat.
"That's exactly what you said that day as well kid. No use of hiding it from me. I can see through all your acts like I had that day. Being in this business for years has given me an eye for observation, I can tell when someone's affection is true or not. And your admiration for that dress, I don't remember a man being so fascinated by a wedding outfit."
My head automatically shot in Mahil's direction as he shifted uncomfortably, crimson red hue covering those ears as he uttered, "That's -"
He was interrupted by the woman as she continued talking, "Usually it's us girls fussing over outfits and jewelleries. For a man to day dream about seeing his woman in one of these, I'm sure you must love her a lot. I can see why you were so lost that day, she is beautiful. I'll ask someone to get it here right away, although it's difficult to get an exactly same piece."
YOU ARE READING
Diamond Hearts (Volume I & II)
Romance"I see nothing that you can offer me," She said eyeing him head to toe. There was a clear hint of dismissal in her tone as she got up to leave. Catching the steps with her, Mahil smiled, "I don't think that's true." "Eh?" She frowned. "How about a...
