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NOTE: hi guys...i cant believe the last time i updates was 5 days ago...ha ha...just wanted to let you all know that i'll be updating later tonight...after i get home...so you guys can look forward to that...but dont hound me...ha ha...
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Teri Yaad Saath Hai
Main jahaan rahoon
Main kahin bhi hoon
Teri yaad saaath hai
Kisi se kahoon
Ke nahi kahoon
Yeh jo dil ki baat hai
Kehne ko saath apane ek duniya chalti hai
Per chhupke is dil mein tanhaayi palti hai
Bas yaad saath hai
Teri yaad saaath hai
Main jahaan rahoon
Main kahin bhi hoon
Teri yaad saaath hai
London, England (late one night):
Maan sat in his chair staring off into space, nervous about his presentation in a few hours. He had given countless presentations in his career as a Hotelier; presentations were what made the business. You needed hotels to grow, you needed contracts to make hotels, and you needed presentations to get you those contracts. Without presentations, you would be at a stand-still. He couldn't remember how many presentations he had given from when he had jumped into the business. It seemed like he gave one everyday at least, sometimes it was more then one, especially at conferences and conventions. However, this presentation was important to him, it was special; he had only given a handful of presentations that meant this much to him. This presentation could help him snag the prime spot for a hotel in the current economy. If Maan got this contract then that would mean great new revenue for the company, a great deal of publicity and fame. He would be building a hotel in one of the most prime spots in the world. All of that, however, held zero to little importance as to why he was fighting to get this contract. Getting this contract meant building a hotel that took months if not years, that meant going to Hollywood (Sunset Blvd.), which meant going to California, which mean meant going home…home was where his Mishti was.
Ever since that unforgettable night, Maan had only been home a few times. After that meeting Maan couldn't get her out of his mind. He thought about her at home, at work, at the gym, on the billboards…every where. In the few hours that they were together she had managed to get into his mind, heart and soul. In the past years there was rarely a day that passed without her crossing his mind.
The three months following their meeting had passed with great difficulty. Each and everyday he had thought about her. He had wondered how her life was going, did she get married, and did she still remember him? However his biggest question and concern was whether or not she was happy; that is all that mattered to him. In the few hours they had spent one night, she had seemed to affect him like no one else ever had; it was like she has seeped into his soul and refused to move, not that he had wanted her to.
He had eventually made the decision of leaving the country because of her. The main office of his operations was based right in the heart of downtown Lost Angeles, a few miles from the memorable pier. If he had kept his office there, the chances of running into her were too great. Not only running into her, but running into his Mishti, his Mishti happy with another man. So he had decided to move his home base of operations to London. He had been planning to expand his business abroad, and there wasn't going to be a better opportunity. So that was it…he left his home of over 20 years and moved to a foreign country, all to get away from a girl and her memories.
The move didn't help the way he would have liked it to have. His mind still managed to wander off into her thought a few times a day, but especially at night when he was alone. The only time he didn't think about her was when he was overloaded with work and handling the business. That is why he had devoted the past years of his life to taking his company to the top. Sure it was to advance in his career, but the bigger reason was to keep his mind off of things that would never amount to anything.
Becoming an international hotelier was not easy, but it had its perks; travel. He had gotten to visit exotic countries and locations all over the world. However, it had also taken him home a few times. Every time he was back he took a few minutes to go to Santa Monica Pier; no matter how busy he was, how late it was, or how tired he was. He would go to reminisce about the one night he would never forget. He would find the same wooden column, sit there and let all the memories come flooding back. With his eyes closed he could see her face, her smile, the blush that tinted her smooth cheeks; he could hear her voice, her laugh, the tinkling of her bangles; he could feel her soft skin, and the feel of her body against his own…everything.
After he had moved away to London, Maan had only been back home a handful of times, most for business purposes or to see his mother. He never stayed more then a few days, except on one visit the previous year, when his mother had died. His mother was an ailing woman in the last stages of Alzheimer's. Maan had spent about three weeks with his mother, but most of that was either at his mother's nursing home or in the end, at the hospital. Losing his mother had been very hard on him, and he needed support. His friends and colleagues had tried to be supportive and help but he didn't want them. He was able to find some solace from his sister, but he felt like he needed more. He felt like the only person that could give him what he needed, had no idea what was going on…above all else he needed his Mishti.
Getting this contract meant that he would be going back to California, his home. He would be able to see the house he grew up in, the places he hung out with friends, he would get to see his sister and new nephew; most of all he would have an excuse to go to Santa Monica and think about his Mishti. Although Maan would never admit it out loud, his main purpose of wanting this contract was for Santa Monica. He could never just come to Santa Monica to revisit old times, he would never let himself. Instead, he would use the contract as an excuse to give his heart what it desired the most. He would never admit to himself that even after nearly four years a special Mishti still held power over him.
Later that day when his company had been officially awarded the contract, his heart did a summersault in his chest. His ticket to California was booked for the next night and all the other arrangements had been made. A small smile played on his lips…he was going home…was going to meet his Mishti.
Panorama City (late another night):
Metro bus, route 265 was making its way across the San Fernando Valley. Less then a handful of passengers occupied the large bus. The people on the bus were either sleeping or staring off into space, after all it was nearly one o' clock in the morning. They were returning home after a hard and long days work in various parts of the city, some even outside the city. At the back of the bus sat a young woman clearly lost in her thoughts.
She looked tired to the bone; the toll of the day was clearly visible on her face. Her once tight and neat bun had strands of hair escaping from it, her uniform a wrinkled mess, her hands dry and rough, and her feet we aching. The surprising factor was that there was no tiredness in her eyes; her dark eyes were gloomy, distant and lost; the sadness apparent in its depths. Everyone on these busses had a story, each different from the previous…she had a story too.
She was the frail, sad, and lonely girl that stood on the side lines of life, watching everyone pass her by. She was the girl that stood behind the large pillar at the back of a room, hidden behind the darkness it provided. She was the girl that blended into life, the one that no one noticed.
She was the girl had held the burden of supporting her parents, financing her younger sisters education, and providing for her own family. She was the girl that worked not one, not two but three full time jobs. She was the girl who was on her feet from five o' clock in the morning until about two or three o' clock in the morning; nearly 24 hours. She was the one that had to make sure her bus didn't leave her or else her boss would fire her for being late…again. She was the girl who had no manage her home; the one who cooked but had no time to eat, the one who cleaned but with no one to help her.
She was once someone's Mishti, but now…now she was Geet Handa. No, she wasn't Geet Handa - she was Mrs. Geet Dev Malhotra.
The bus had finally reached her stop, Roscoe Blvd. Geet quickly gathered her things, and pushed out all the unnecessary thoughts out of her mind. Once she had stepped off the bus, she glanced at her watch…2:30am. Her eyes widened in shock as she broke into a full fledged run towards her apartment complex. She ran like a mad woman and made it to her apartment in three minutes flat. Fishing inside her purse she retrieved her keys into the lock and opened the door. She silently crept in, making sure to make almost no sound, only what couldn't be avoided. Geet put her things down on the sofa corner, took off her shoes and coat. She tiptoed into the kitchen to grab a glass of cold water before she headed off to bed. She was hungry, she was starving, but she decided against eating. By the time she took the food out, warmed it up, ate and cleaned up, she wouldn't have anytime to sleep before she had to be up for her first job. She thanked the Lord that she was doing the late shift and was required to go in at nine o' clock and not five o' clock. She savored the water, quietly put down the glass and began tiptoeing towards her room.
"So madam finally decided to come home?" came a voice in front of her.
In the dark she couldn't see his face but she knew who it was; it was none other then her husband, Dev Malhotra.
"I'm so sorry if I disturbed you," Geet said in a hushed voice, her eyes on the floor, not daring to look at him.
He had startled her when he called out to her.
"Why don't your head back to bed, I'll be there in a few minutes after I change."
She watched as the shaded figure wobbled towards her unstably. Her fears were confirmed, he was drunk, not that there was any doubt in her mind. There was rarely a night that Dev wasn't drunk. If Geet was lucky, then he was so drunk that he was passed out on the bed in the master bed room. If he was still awake, then only God knew what was going to happen.
"Going to take a shower?" Dev continued, "Trying to wash off all scents of your lover before your husband can tell."
"No, of course not." she replied to him, in a somewhat stern voice.
"Really? Then do you care to explain why you are thirty minutes late?" he pressed.
"I had a late table, so I left late and had to catch the last bus."
"Oh really?" he mocked.
Geet was hoping that he would let it go and not erupt in a rage, but her hopes were shattered.
"What do you think that I am an idiot?! That I don't know my wife is screwing every Tom, Dick and Harry?" he yelled.
"It's not like that, and you know it!" Geet said in her defense.
Dev came and was standing in front of her, his breath reeking of alcohol.
Geet tried to step back, but he grabbed the bare part of her arms with his strong arms and squeezed them hard, "So no you are going to tell me what I know?"
"N…no of course not." Geet said, as she tried to get out of his grip, knowing all to well what was ahead for her if she didn't get away.
"I'll show you, you two timing, lying little bitch!" he growled.
"No, please Dev let me go. I…I promise, it won't happen again. Please let me go," Geet pleaded as she tried to get out of his grip.
"Come on baby, I'm your husband. You can't stop me," Dev said with a glint in his eyes.
"Please…please…please…" Geet begged.
Her cries of help drowned out as Dev placed his lips on top of hers and began to brutally assault her, biting and hurting her. All the while he began pulling her towards their room, his hand still strongly on her arms.
Once in the room, she pushed her down on the bed and held her down with one hand, while the other worked to remove her clothes. The tears rolling down her face as Dev's hands roamed across her body.
A while later, muffled sobs could be heard. Geet lay with a sheet covering her and her husband, who had finally passed out next to her. Gathering the sheet close to her naked body, she inched out of the bed, making as little movement as possible. She managed to rummage around her small closet for a t-shirt and track pants. Slipping on a pair of flip-flops she grabbed her keys and left the house.
Dev was passed out, and would be for the next few hours or so. Night like this have happened in the past, and would probably continue to happen in the future. Geet headed to the one place that she could find some solace, the one place she felt safe…the pier.
At 3:30am she reached the desolate beach/pier she ran to the place that meant the most to her. She found the large wooden pillar where she had met him, where her life and begun and ended in one night. She threw her sandals into the sand a few feet in front of her. She stared at the night sky, glittering with stars, tears forming in her eyes.
"Where are you?! Why aren't you here?!" she yelled, "I need you! Why aren't you here!?"
Saying this she crumbled onto the sand, the tears now flowing freely.
Maan's flight had gotten in a few hours ago and he was exhausted to the breaking point. He figured he would get in as much sleep as he could this night before all the work on the project began. However, that hadn't worked out.
He had been sitting in his room, attempting to eat the dinner he had the kitchen deliver, but his appetite was shot. Leaving the food he took a warm shower and headed to bed, hoping that he would fall asleep; no such luck. He lay awake for over two hours, tossing and turning. His mind was on his Mishti, not shocking, but it was bothering him. Something inside him was telling him that something was wrong, and he needed to be somewhere else. His mind and heart were pulling him to thoughts of the night with Mishti at Santa Monica.
Glancing at the clock he saw that it read three o' clock in the morning. Letting out a frustrated groan her got out of bed and headed to change. He pulled on a pair of jeans and his old USC letterman's jacket, grabbed his keys and headed out, just forty-five minutes or so and he would be there.
Parking his car in the lot he stepped out. Looking around he failed to see a small car parked in the shadows by the pier. Maan made his way to the place that was calling to him. As he walked, a smile played on his face as he thought about the fateful night. He came to a stop at the beginning of the pier and just took in a breath of the salt air.
For some odd reason his body and heart were racing with emotions. On one side he felt a sense of worry and anticipation that something was amiss, but on the other hand his heart felt content and at peace. His body was tense and stiff, yet oddly calm and relaxed. He was feeling a bit of every emotion, sad yet happy, tired yet wide awake, worried yet serene. It was like the wind, the moon, the stars and the waves were all calling out to him.
As the smile played on his lips, he put his hands in his pockets, face the direction of the spot where he had met Mishti and closed his eyes; he could picture that night. He could hear her sniffles, her bangles, and her laughter. He could see the red outfit he had found her in, the bindi on her head, the blush on her cheeks. He could see her small body curled into a ball, just asking to be held.
As Maan opened his eyes, his gaze fell on a small figure curled up and leaning against the wooden pillar. As his eyes traced the petite figure, his heart gave a jump and it felt like his dormant soul was brought back to life……
hawa, aaj yun gaa rahi hai
Kyun fiza, rang chhalka rahi hai
Mere dil bata aaj hona hai kya
Chaandni, din mein kyun, chhaa rahi hai
Zindagi, kis taraf jaa rahi hai
Mere dil bata kya hai ye silsila
Kyun hawa, aaj yun gaa rahi hai
Gaa rahi hai, gaa rahi hai
ps: so....what do you guys think now? all thought Dev left Geet...hogaya naa kahani mein TWIST!
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