Started Typing On - 01/03/2019

Started Typing Again On - 02/03/2019

Chapter 70- 'Wingless Butterfly'

~

Author's Pov:

"How could you?" Why now her laughing had died once remembering they'll leave New York in few days. Thank you. She placed her hand on her Managlsutra (Wedding chain) fidgeting with it, with a bright smile. What else could a sad soul ask for rather than little bit of happiness. Happiness which she got after coming to this honeymoon. But of course, Kiaan had broken her though with his voice.

He stressed the word as if she cheated on him. That's exactly what Jaanvi thought. Aren't you supposed to say this when you catch a murderer from your family or something? She stayed quiet, sitting on the bed with the luggage in front of her. He stalked towards her, completely humiliated and irritated for sure. Once standing in front of her, he glared unhappily. "I'm talking to you." He waved his hand in front of her eyes.

"And I'm ignoring you." She replied, making a face before going back to stuffing some clothes inside the luggage.

"No you're not. If you were you wouldn't be replying to me." He murmured, sitting in front of her, the luggage in between the two couple, creating space. "We're not leaving yet, why are you packing?"

"Oh I'm just putting these clothes I brought inside." She pointed at the dresses, tops and jeans she had brought for herself, some for Aditi and one top for Rashi. Her smile had explained Kiaan that she'll happily talk about the clothes rather than the Tina incident. He nodded, scratching his head getting bored. "I'm impressed you know." She chirped, giving him a proud smile.

He arched his eyebrows upwards, giving her a questionable look. Jaanvi rolled her eyes at him before muttering quickly, "I saw the lizard emoji you put after Tina's name. I'm impressed!" she folded the dress properly, making some space inside the luggage. In between creating some space, Kiaan noticed a black folder in her luggage, looking up at her curiously he noticed she was too busy counting up the clothes. Taking this as a chance he grabbed the black folder, putting it under his shirt when she turned away from him, walking to the closet.

"You're going somewhere?" She asked, holding some of her new tops in her hand as she walked over to the bed. Lifting her eyes up, she noticed his back was facing her but he didn't move an inch. It looked suspicious to her but she didn't go in depth because of packing.

"Yeah, need to call someone." He murmured, crossing his fingers, hoping she doesn't speak further on.

"Ha, ha, go on. Ruined my movie night and now you want to talk." She murmured, rubbing her nose in annoyance. Sinking on her spot, she looked away from him, continuing to her advance packing. Why do I love this taunting Queen? He questioned, walking out the room. Getting out of their bedroom he wondered where to go with this file. Living room? No. Jaanvi could come there. Dhruv's room? No. it's close to their. Mum and dad's room. Yes. He took determined steps into his parents room, closing the door shut and locked it quickly. Sitting on the soft mattress in Indian style, he opened the black folder with his heartbeats raising. Something must be in here for a reason otherwise Jaanvi wouldn't bring it here.

Opening it up with his now sweaty hands, the first thing he saw was photos of Jaanvi, his father-in-law and his late mother-in-law. A smile curled up in his lips, admiring how much Jaanvi had loved her parents to an extend to carry them around with her. The first picture was of her mother and father in their college years. They looked into each other eyes, smiling. He took the photo out carefully from the folder, holding it into his hands with a grin lingering in his lips.

"You've something special about you Ma. Something which you've passed onto Jaanvi. She has the same eyes as you, hose beautiful earthy brown eyes, like dirt but very addicting. Same smile like Papa. (Ansh) same face, but little more beautiful then you." He chuckled, putting his one hand on his ears asking for forgiveness. "You've died twenty-five years ago, yet papa loves you. You can still see it in his eyes, how he gazes down at your photo. I want to be like that. To look at Jaanvi like that." He whispered.

The next photo was of Jaanvi making a face, like she always does, typical Jaanvi. But this photo was taken on her first day of school, written behind the picture. 'Papa says this was my grumpy face on my first day of school because I didn't want to leave him.' "You're always grumpy." Kiaan muttered, shaking his head.

He skipped to the next page, noticing some pages with single words like 'Papa.' Or 'Ja-anvi or Ma' under the old, crunchy looking papers Jaanvi wrote in 2014, 'The first time I wrote papa, ma and my name. Papa told me he kept these papers as memory.'

Kiaan smiled awwingly. "I'll do that with our kids." He noted to himself, moving to the next page. The other pages were some of her awards she'd won. Some pictures of her sitting on a camel or horse. Some little letters some of her teachers gave her after she was finished with the years. Some art works, painting she'd drawn of her father, with the word 'SuperHero,' written on it. Around fourteen letters she wrote on her birthdays, for her mother. Thinking her mother would read them.

And the one that caught his eyes was his own card. Her sixteenth birthday card. "She k-k-kept it." He choked on his words, overwhelmed seeing his card in her folder which she supposedly kept with her at all times.

Flash Back-

It's been around ten months since Kiaan's family moved to New York. It was a Monday evening, after his football match instead of heading home he decided to visit the local post shop to find a card for Jaanvi. 25th October He thought, remembering Jaanvi's birth-date. Shoving his hands under his football shorts to make sure his credit card is there, he smiled feeling the card against his fingers.

The soon to be eighteen year old, walked into the Post shop, browsing through the cards. It's a girl. Card popped up, he chuckled lightly. Well, she is a girl but she'll murder me if I send this. He scanned his eye to the corner noticing a beautiful happy birthday card with a painting on the cover, he took it out, his smile fading. It wrote, 'Happy birthday to my loving Girlfriend.'

"She'll like it." He heard a girl's voice. Looking to his left he noticed a girl around his age. She eyed the card, taking it in her hand. "It's beautiful, take it." Seeing her uniform he realised she attends the same school as him.

"Nah." He shrugged. Looking around.

"Why?" She questioned, putting the card back from where he got it.

"She-she's not my girlfriend." He looked a bit ashamed. Nearly everyone his age, or even younger than him had been in over three relationship and here he's never been in one. A week ago he was asked out by an American girl, few months younger then him, beautiful, taller than Jaanvi, with a gorgeous heart but he wasn't into her. He wasn't into her. Not wanting to break her heart or offend her, Kiaan lied saying, 'I have a girlfriend. I'm sorry.'

"You lied to Gabby?" The girl's mouth went wide. Is she Gabby's friend? He thought. He walked to the other corner, trying to get rid of her. She walked beside him, looking at him in shock. "Why would you do that? Gabby is popular! She's beautiful. Her parents are rich. Jake, the hockey team's captain, wanted to date her but she rejected him. She never asks anyone out and you rejected her with a lie? Why?"

"Because she's not Jaanvi. Any problem?" He snapped. Why does he matter if I date Gabby or not? What should matter is I'm not interested, isn't that reasonable? One way or another, I don't want to be in a relationship. The girl's face curled up into a ball full of confusion. He walked away from her, looking for a card. Finding a blue and green card with roses and a lake, he knew she'd like it since she loves nature.

Kiaan walked over to the table, writing her a little note or wish you could say.

Dear Jaanvi,

A very happy 16th birthday. I hope this 'sweet' 16 is actually sweet. May all your stup-he cut that off, pretending to be writing this card from his mother's point of view.-your dreams come true. I hope you score the best in school, keep smiling.

From, Mr and Mrs Rajput.

He read the card again, double cheeking to make sure it sounded like his parents. It did hurt him a little for not writing his name at the bottom even though he was the one sending her the birthday card, but knowing their relationship with each other, he couldn't bring himself to own up to the card. She'll probably rip it away if she finds out I sent it. Nodding in satisfaction, Kiaan wrote down her address, posting away the birthday card.

Flash Back End

The strange thing was, they both had sent each other birthday cards the same year-well, her birthday is in October and his is on March, not quite the same year but a year after he shifted to New York. She received a sixteenth birthday card from him, and he received an eighteenth birthday card.

Kiaan carefully held the card in his hand, not wanting to bend the sides while putting it back into his space. He was surprised yet a little overwhelmed finding out she still kept it. He was closing the folder when he heard a loud knock on the door, followed but her soft yet loud voice,

"You're not thinking of sleeping there because I changed Tina's name on your contact list, are you? If yes, even though my ego doesn't want to apologise yet, I'm sorry. You know I can't sleep alone. And definitely not in your batman looking room." He could already imagined her making a disgusted, and unpleasant face gazing at their bedroom. Batman looking room? I don't even own-"It's so dark! The curtains are dark, the bedsheets are black and grey. The walls are so, uncolourful. So dull and boring, the best room to watch horror movies in." she muttered, clearing his confusion with her over descripted speech.

"Ouch." He murmured, narrowing his big eyes, now turning little as he placed his hand on his chest, feeling hurt and offended. "Ever heard of Orange is the new Black?" he referred to the new-not so new now-Netflix series, expecting her to be up to date with the word.

"Ever heard of bhikhari turning ameer? Nahi nah? Thought so the same." (Ever heard of begger turning rich-richer? No, right?) Jaanvi quoted back, just added her usual sassiness to the line. She pressed her ear to the door knob, wishing to hear him growl, or walk up to the door and glare at her, or even laugh. But she hear nothing. She step back, standing straight. Was my one that lame?

"Ohh." She giggled realising a scene from the last novel she read in her phone. I'm behaving like the Night Stalker, putting my ear into the door knobs to hear my victims. More like I'm the victim in this case. She folded her arms across her chest, annoyed with being locked out. "Getting out of there?" she slightly raised her voice.

"Yeah," he replied after his chain of thoughts were broken. "C-coming." He pushed inside the card in a hurry, shoving the folder underneath the bedsheet. He couldn't just walk out of the room with it, Jaanvi would definitely get angry. Fixing up the bedsheet, he stood up making his way to the door. Ok, look normal. Behave normal. He encouraged himself, not wanting to give Jaanvi any hint. Opening the door wide, he smiled warmly.

"I hear someone's been missing m---Wait." His pleasant signature smirk was washed away remembering her comments few minutes back. "Excuse me you wingless butterfly with no butter I may add," he started, giving her the eww look, earning a wide opened mouth from Jaanvi in shock. "-who did you call a bhikhari?" (Begger) He folded his arms across his chest, looking bigger than usual, making Jaanvi gulp. Unintentionally her eyes landed on her small frame compared to his.

"W-w-why d-did you say orange is the new black then?" She stuttered at first seeing him frowning, walking closer to her.

"Doesn't explain why you'd call me a bhikhari." He snorted, glaring at her. I'm sounding normal right?

"Yes, sorry, that's an insult to all the poor, poor bhikhari's." (Begger) she shot back, scratching her nose a little.

"If I'm bhikhari then your maha bhikhari!" (Big begger) he replied with equal annoyance. I mean, how could she? Does my clothes look like I'm a guy needing money? A poor guy wouldn't spend thirty dollars on-and that reminded him, "Oh yes, and then this bhikhari," he pointed at his frame, "spend thirty dollars on a birthday cake for your mum!" he spat, not angrily but in irritation. Now she's my mother? Not 'Our' ma! Wah! Wah!

She pushed away her hair behind her ear, glaring at him in anger. She held his wrist, firmly gripping it as she walked to the kitchen along with him. Opening up the fridge quickly, she closed her eyes for a while adjusting to the bright light from inside the cold fridge, she left his hand with a jerk. Taking the cake out which he brought. Putting it on the kitchen counter carefully, she turned it around where the price was written,

"You spent twenty-nine dollars and ninety-nine cents! Not thirty dollars you---" She snapped at him, narrowing her eyes at him in frustration. He moved back slightly, wanting to create some safe distance, away from this wild, angry cat. He hesitantly moved his finger pointing at her,

"So? It's only one cent away from making it thirty dollars."

"I don't care! Cent is cent!" Being an accountant justified her love for maths at times-when it was about money. She didn't like giving someone less money or taking extra. If the price was four dollars and ninety-nine cents she wants you to tell her the exact price, even though she'd still have to pay five dollars but that didn't bother her. Least now when she wants to prove her point against Kiaan. "Ek, ek cent kar ke we can make dollars! Uff! No value! Valueless human being." (By one, one cent we can make dollars!) She stated, taking a knife out to cut the cake.

Cutting a little piece, she held the chocolate, white creamed cake in her hand, putting it inside her mouth. "Wahh what a taste." She moans in delight, licking her fingers one by one.

Kiaan moved behind her, looking over her shoulders, seeing the cake sitting in front of him. One bite won't kill. He moved his fingers closer to cake, reading to touch the cream when she pushed his finger away. "Let me have some." He pouted, waiting for her to move away from the cake.

"Why?" she questioned like she didn't even want an answer. "I'm 'Maha bhikhari' nah? I'll have it alone." (big begger) she closed the cake lid, putting it inside the fridge.

"I paid for it."

"Did I ask you to?" she closed the fridge, putting her hand on her hips, determinedly looking at him.

"N-" he paused, knowing what she'll say next would probably be like 'exactly.' He stomped his foot on the floor, storming away from her with a frown covering his whole face. She lightly laughed before following him with a fake annoyed face.

"Who made women? I'll bloody kill that man." He muttered under his breath, loud enough for Jaanvi to hear. He jumped into the bed, moving to the other side of the bed, far away from Jaanvi.

"Umm, a man did, no? Adam and Eve?" she said after thinking for a while. "Kiaan, they must be so confident nah? Or maybe too intelligent to know they'll create life after having se--"

"And how is talking about their sex life going to help with my question? Shouldn't you be saying 'God,' rather than Adam and Eve?" He asked, cutting her off as he turned to face her.

"Well, doesn't everyone say god? I mean, that's the easiest answer isn't it?" Jaanvi questioned back quietly, putting her weight on one side of her body, facing Kiaan under the yellow light given by the lamp. "Who made us? -God. How did this happen? -God knows. What will happen now? -He'll do something. Always God, God and God. I just wanted to give an uncommon answer you know?" she explained, moving her fingers around to help him understand, even though it wasn't helping.

"Ok?" His answer came more as a question in return. He just wanted to get over with her blabbering already. God, I didn't think of her chatterbox mouth before I got married to this cat.

"Kiaan?"

"Hmmm." He rested his head under his palms, gazing her.

"How do you think Eve gave birth to her kids without a doc--"

"CHUP HO JA PLEASE." (Be quiet/shut up please) He shouted, putting his hand on his head, frustratingly pulling his hair. Wow, I did justice to my words when I said 'Human hair to pull,' on our wedding day. I wasn't aiming for this but oh well. Jaanvi thought, looking at him like he's gone mad.

"Why am I pulling my hair? I should pull your bloody hair." he muttered, glaring at her. It didn't take Kiaan to long to cage her underneath his body. Hovering over her he watched her frightened yet nervous state. "Shut your mouth or I will shut it."

She nodded, acting like she zipped her mouth and threw away the key, smiling nervously. "Why do you care what happened to Eve? She lived, she died and she gave birth. Why do you care? Are you planning on going back in time and becoming her doctor or something?" he asked, darkly staring at her. She nodded negatively, choking on her own saliva. "Then shut the fuck up." She nodded in agreement. Closing her eyes shut to pretend as if she's sleeping.

'How did Eve give birth without a doctor,' bloody same way the others do! I can't. I just can't deal with this living history book with unasked questions. He moved his face closer to her, studying whether she was a sleep or not. Kiaan knew she was pretending to be asleep but long as she zipped her mouth he was fine, or his brain was fine.

He got off, of her, laying back on his back, looking up at the ceiling. For two minutes there was a long silence until she asked another question.

"Wait! Does that mean all of us, the Asians, are white because Adam and Ever were white so---" her -now-mature-enough-question was rudely interrupted by Kiaan's hand on her mouth, shooting daggers at her.

"Eve is dead! Adam is dead! And this question better be dead soon or I'll murder you tonight so shut up!" he was beyond frustrated and couldn't understand from where she brought such questions. Why does it even matter? "We are Indian and I'm not a very nice, so shut up before I lock you up in that cupboard," he pointed at the cupboard, hovering over her scared figure. "And throw it inside some second hand shop." Noticing her mouth turn into the offended type 'O,' he said, "Yes, I will send you into a second hand shop with that cupboard. SO better shut up or you won't see the gorgeous sun tomorrow morning."

Is he psycho like Riteish Deshmukh from that movie called Ek Villain? But Riteish didn't rape anymore, hell, he was slapped by his own wife. And Kiaan is acting like a mad man! I'm just asking general knowledge questions! We should know about out pas-"Now shut up or you'll see the worst of me." She was on the verge of rolling her eyes but kept them straight and cold towards him.

"I'm leaving your mouth, but if you utter