⋆ ——————— sitara ⋮ ⋆

I WAS DRAINED. I threw my bag on my bed and pulled out some comfy pants to change into. As soon as I was changed, I put on a face pack and jumped onto my bed, leaning on the headboard.

Two days back, I was casually discussing my work with Shaurya, how many communities in India don't even know what a pad is and use whatever they find instead of it. And how many women can't afford it because it is expensive. Our organization was solely founded to battle the unawareness and women's inability to afford them and supply organic and cheap pads to them. Four years and several outlets branching across India later, we were expanding further.

But then, Shaurya raised a good point. He'd said, "I understand that you started out as an all women organization to help other women. You say you want to normalize periods. Shouldn’t you be employing males as well to break that stigma? You are confining periods as a matter solely pertaining to women by employing only women, don't you think?"

His take on it was an eye-opener. I took this opinion to the office and turned the meeting into a chaos of opinions for and against it. Some wanted the company to function as an all-women firm and felt that if men were employed, it may reflect as if we women can't do well without men (which felt stupid to me). Some agreed with what I said. There were endless arguments on the opinion and we didn't come to a conclusion in the end.

But Aisha had said it was a really good point. My other friends agreed as well. That was a little comforting. On top of all this, there was a selection of employees who are to go to London soon for setting up the new branch. I was chosen. I wanted to go because I've never been anywhere out of India but my wedding was still undecided. I didn't want the dates to clash.

Or leave Shaurya for almost a month.

The London thing was in February and it was December now. I had a few weeks to decide and confirm my choice with the management.

I grabbed my phone and checked to see if Shaurya had left messages but there were none. I frowned. The good morning text I sent remained unanswered, more importantly, unseen.

I called him. The ring went on for a long time until I was sure he wasn’t going to pick up. When I was about to hang up, the call connected. “Shaurya, what the hell happened to you?” I asked.

“Sorry, I’m not feeling well,” He murmured, his voice beaten and worn out.

I sat upright immediately. “Why didn’t you tell me?” I demanded, already rushing to the bathroom. I put the call on speaker.

“After Ma passed away, I had no one to call whenever I got sick. It became a habit now,” He said and I stopped splashing water on my face.

“Well, I’m here now. You better make it a habit to call me whenever anything happens,” I said, scrubbing the face pack from my face.

I heard a weak chuckle from his side. “Do you need anything from the medical shop?”

“I’m having a bad headache and I’ve been vomiting a lot,” he mumbled.

“Okay, just keep the door unlocked and go to sleep. I’ll be there,” I said into the phone and hung up. I hastily wiped my face, took a change of clothes and threw in basic toiletries into a small bag.

“Ma!” I called, stepping out of my room.

“Aiyoo Rama, don’t shout like I am two galaxies away from you,” Ma said, glaring at me before going back to watching the TV serial she loves. "I didn't hear what this girl said to her. And now she is crying. It was a very important scene."

“Ma," I sighed, "Shaurya is sick."

That got her attention. She immediately asked me what was wrong and then ushered me to the kitchen.

“Sad that he is living all alone and eating outside food all the time,” She said, grabbing a few carrots and dicing them. “When you marry him, you better cook good food for him and keep him healthy. It’s your responsibility.”

“I know,” I said. She threw in a couple vegetables and then filtered some vegetable soup. I helped her pack it in a container. “If he is vomiting out this too, give him some honey and water. That will keep his energy levels high until his stomach recovers. You can’t give him tablets until he has something in his stomach.”

I nodded. “And um, Ma?”

“What?” She asked, packing the container in a bag.

“Can I stay over and take care of him? He is alone there and I can’t leave him like this,” I said, biting my lip. Ma took a few seconds to think about it.

“Fine, but let’s keep this between you and me. Your father doesn't need to know about this. I’ll tell him you are staying in Deepika kanna’s house,” She said.

I hugged her. “Thanks, Ma!”

I was almost out of the kitchen when she called me. “And Situ ma?”

“Yes?”

“No funny business,” She said and I nodded, going a little red.

When I reached the familiar compound of his house, I parked my car and rushed inside. As I had instructed, he had left his door unlocked for me. I tip-toed in and made a bee-line for his room. There he was, rolled in grey sheets, his head sandwiched between his hands. When I took a few steps closer, I found that his eyes were closed.

I pushed away the hair falling on his forehead and touched it to check the temperature. He had a mild fever and with the tiny dots of sweat on his forehead, I could tell his fever was breaking slowly. When I pulled my hands back, his eyes opened.

“You didn’t have to come,” He said in a croaky voice.

I rolled my eyes. “Fine then, shall I leave?”

He caught my wrists. “Don’t you dare,” he said.

"That's what I thought," I chuckled. “Ma made soup for you. Do you want to have some now or later?” I asked, tucking the sheets around him. He pushed it away, shaking his head.

“What?” I asked, when he pushed himself up from the bed. “What happened?”

He just shook his head and stumbled to the toilet. I heard the latch being dragged across before I could reach the door. By the sounds of it, I knew he was vomiting.

“Let me in, Shaurya!” I said, banging on the door.

More retching sounds.

“I am never going to talk to you if you don’t open this damn door!” I said. Who was I kidding, I couldn’t shut my mouth even if I wanted to. But, he didn’t need to know that. “I swear, Shaurya. I’ll never ever—”

The squeak of the latch sounded and I pushed the door open immediately.

Shaurya was bent against the wash basin, but that wasn’t the reason my eyes went wide and I turned red. It was because his shirt wasn’t on him anymore and instead it was in a heap on the floor.

“I stained the shirt—” he managed to get out before puking again. I went to his side and held his head as he vomited indescribable fluid. I rubbed circles on his back, the feel of my hand on his bare skin sending me into a frenzy. There were two scars on his back, a line-shaped one just above his waistband and another brown patch on the right side. Just right next to it, was a black mole the size of a dot.

He straightened up and his chest heaved as he breathed hard. “Anything in the queue?” I asked nervously.

He spat out the water he was gargling his mouth with. “In the queue?” He laughed.

I smacked his back lightly. “Why are you laughing? That was a serious question.”

“No, nothing in the queue, Madam. I’ll let you know if there’s development,” He swallowed a laugh, squeezing toothpaste on his brush. “I should’ve called you in the morning,” he admitted.

“Yes, you should have. I would’ve taken an off today. Would have skipped the torturous debate,” I muttered the last part almost to myself. I stood beside him and wrapped an arm around him.

“We make a good pair, don’t we?” I asked cheekily, looking at our reflection in the mirror. I was in a pink hoodie, barely reaching Shaurya’s shoulders as he brushed his teeth, shirtless. My smile was wide while his was covered in foam. My eyes were bright while his was tired. We balanced each other well, I observed proudly.

“You only realised that after you saw me shirtless?” He asked through the foam in his mouth.

“Of course not,” I said. “But this is a good look on you. You should try it a lot,” I added quietly. He spat the foam out and laughed before catching me in a headlock with his one arm.

"Ahh, let me go Shaurya!" I hit his back. He took his own time teasing me.

“Behave like a patient,” I said, freeing myself. After he was done, he went back to pick his soiled shirt.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll rinse it off and put it in the wash. You go take rest,” I pushed him out of the toilet.

“No way I’m letting you do that,” He said.

“You have no say in it,” I said, tucking him under the covers. “Are you hungry?”

“I’ll tell you after a few minutes. I can’t feel anything right now except the aftertaste of toothpaste,” He said, closing his eyes.

“How is your headache?”

“Like hell,” he murmured. I found the pain-relief balm Ma had sent with me and sat on the bed, lifted his head and pushed away the pillow. I guided his head to my lap.

Shaurya opened his eyes and stared at me from below. “What are you doing?”

“Taking your pain away,” I smirked and scooped a little balm on my hands and applied it on his forehead. I began spreading it evenly across the skin and then applied pressure to massage. He let out a satisfactory sigh and closed his eyes back.

I continued massaging his head in a pattern, watching his features change in the size of micro bits whenever I pressed a certain point. He shifted to make himself comfortable in my lap after I was done, turning sideways. I weaved through his hair slowly and watched him sleep, this time more relaxed. He always slept like a baby.

I traced his stubble, feeling the coarse hair graze my fingers. I admired him for a few more minutes before I grabbed my phone. I started answering the queries of the customers on Instagram silently, peeping out from the screen to check on Shaurya once in a while. His even breath fell warm against my legs, sending little shivers through my body. At one point of time, he pushed away the sheets.

He sweated and his body was cooling down. I twisted myself and reached the shelf to grab a towel. Gently, I blotted out the sweat on his body, smiling at how he was unaware of everything and peacefully sleeping.

After that, I got back to work on my phone. My eyes burned after staring at the screen for long and I had to put it away. Only then, I noticed the time. It was past six in the evening.

“Shaurya?” I whispered. He didn’t stir. I carefully shifted his head back to the pillow and slipped out to the kitchen. I warmed up the soup and spent a good ten minutes to find the soup spoon. I poured the hot liquid into a porcelain bowl and took it to Shaurya’s room.

He was awake. “Where did you go?”

“Just the kitchen. You need to eat something,” I said, placing the bowl on the bedside table and propping the pillow so he could lean on it. I handed the bowl to him.

“I thought you were going to feed me,” He said and I laughed.

“If you used the same energy to lift the spoon instead of talking like this, you would be able to feed yourself,” I said and he stared at me. I stared at him back.

He made a terrible pout and my gaze broke. “Fine, you big baby,” I grumbled, climbing on him and sitting cross-legged over his stretched legs. I blew on the soup and fed him.

“You aren’t supposed to sit on the patient,” He said.

I narrowed my eyes. “You are enjoying this, aren’t you?” I asked dryly. He chuckled and opened his mouth. I fed another spoon of soup.

“Just wait until I fall sick next time. I’m already having wonderful ideas,” I said, feeding another spoon.

“Be honest. You like this too, don’t you?” Shaurya asked me.

“Stop guessing the truth like that. Let me have a little fun,” I said, fighting a smile as I wiped the drop of soup I spilled on his chest.

"You could have lied and said No," he shrugged.

"For you to see through it like glass and mock me again? No thanks," I mumbled.

“I would love taking care of you if you fall sick, Sitar,” he said, drinking his last spoon of soup. I placed the empty bowl on the table and moved closer to hug him. He wrapped his arms around me as well and I could feel his lips press against my side. I weaved my fingers through his hair, which was now sweat-clad and damp.

Then I remembered his shirt still lying on the floor. I had forgotten to put it in the wash. I pulled away to go do it.

“Is it late already? Are you leaving?” He asked.

“No, you baby. I’m staying the night. Ma is okay with it. Only Ma,” I said and relief filled his eyes. My heart stung as I wondered how lonely it got here for him when I wasn’t here.

“Then, where are you going?”

“Your t-shirt—”

“Let it be. You’re not going anywhere,” He said.

I protested, "If I don't go now, I would have to scrape the dried-up vomit from your shirt."

"It's okay," he murmured and he held onto me tight.

I realised he could be very stubborn when we wanted to be. So I gave in and shifted so that we were both leaning on the headboard, my head on his chest, my arm wrapped around his waist and his around me, our legs tangled.

“Tell me a story, Sitar,” he whispered.

And I did.

⋆ ——————————— ⋆ glossary:

aiyoo rama: replacement for oh god, where rama is the name of an indian deity.

kanna: dear or son

⋆ ——————————— ⋆ PLEASE VOTE ☆ IF YOU LIKED THIS CHAPTER. THANK YOU FOR READING!