|the naive rebel|
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xli | the thorn laden path
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word count- 2094

Hey! Here's an early update. Next chapter will be up tomorrow (late night) I am on a roll, ain't I?

Proofread, but if you do find some errors-you know what to do. ;-)

Confession: I love writing Ishaan's point of views. They give me a different vibe. Inaayat's pov is more from my vision but Ishaan's help me play with scenarios that I have never dealt with and Third person's gives me a chances to play with words.

Question:

Whose point of view is your favourite?

Ishaan, Inaayat or Third person's.

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ISHAAN
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Denial.

Experiencing it is like smoking a cigar, you know it's injurious to health yet some thick minded people do it anyway.

Exactly, denial does nothing but grow like an alien species on your habitat, growing and nurturing and reproducing while you (& your sanity) are pushed to the periphery-suffocating you.

As we speak of how I decided to be a smart person and break the shell of my denial's egg, right now at this very moment-I want nothing but to slither back into the swamp of denial and die.

Question is how can I convert a very (emphasize 'very') awkward situation into a less awkward (normal) situation slash how the fuck can I run out of this room?

This room never felt so smothering and throttling and congested and overcrowded, but today it's all of those. The ventilation is poor or am I perspiring way too much, I don't know the answer to that. But, what I do know is how fine my luck is when I get to have a girlfriend and meet her way too uptight dad on the very same day.

Or wait, is she even my girlfriend, yet?

I could have claimed to that one if and only if her father hadn't disturbed our moment-virtually. He had called Inaayat and had immediately called her to the headquarters and soon after I was called to inform about the same.

They didn't know we were together when they had called, and I hope that piece of information remains as it is, because her father isn't very fond of me.

Scratch that. He hates me.

We had bad blood in the past, not too serious-I had just disobeyed him (a fucking lot) when I was recruited under him-includes: me partying late nights and I did even show up with a terrorising hungover on a workday, once..or was it more than once? If I ain't wrong I was also a very active part of his anti-club, and when he did find out about it, he had spewed fire on us.

Back then, I was a spoilt recruit. No comments.

Wanting a way out of this hell hole, thinking that my one hacking controversy cannot handcuff me to this job. I was a good student, engineering was going well, with distinction and this job and duty were out of my planned itinerary.

And then suddenly everything went downhill, dad had succumbed to his injuries while on the battlefield, mom had to bear all the responsibilities on her shoulders, Niharika was battling with her struggles and I couldn't have wasted my career or my life anymore. I got promoted to this branch, closer to home and my life changed.

The Ishaan he knew, and the Shaan now, were two very different people.

"So, Shaan we were working on the recent developments about the drug case."

Mr Pandey brings me back to the present, where I am locked with him, Inaayat and her dad-Mr Kapoor.

I had never thought so deeply about her father and his opinions about me, until very now. I realise I know he still sees me as a spoilt brat, a very frivolous officer. I am sure of it because the very moment he had seen me getting off my car-which was the same car his daughter had gotten off from, his smile had dropped into a sneer. A growling sneer.

And she calls me a bear.

Inaayat doesn't know about her father's and mine-related history and I hope she doesn't. That's way too demeaning for my ego. The capricious change, I had gone through will bewilder him, them.

"Why is he the in charge?" Here it is, the ire-slow-burn tale. Mr Kapoor passes a stink eye at me, while Inaayat has no idea behind the insolent tone her father had used for me. Mr Pandey is aware of our previous dynamics and can feel the electrifying air of hatred and despondency moving from Mr Kapoor towards me, like the process of electrolysis. Settling the mud, coating the cathode.

"Taraj." Mr Pandey is quick to stop him. He clears his throat trying to divert this scenario back to the drug case.

"Shaan, the recent developments-mainly the one where we know about the expected presence of the gang leader in the club. Next Saturday, right?"

I nod in affirmation. He continues planting scenarios and possibility and claims that he has an idea which can be a little risky but worth a try.

"I think we should conduct a sting operation."

"Aren't we doing that sir? Moreover, if you look carefully, we have the estimated date and a time for his arrival there. We can simply call it a raid?"

"Not easy, Shaan. If we do raid the club, it will help us catch the leader but not the goods in his possession. We have to track him, till we find the location where he keeps his good stocked. There ought to be an old factory, building or a place from where he runs the entire thing."

"So, what do you want me to do?" I ask him. The room is deluging in silence, hefty and sturdy and brawny. Enthralling and bewitching, he adjusts his seat. Taking measured breathes and pauses, he first looks at me and then at Inaayat, and I am certain that I'll be hating his idea.

"They have already seen you. I was thinking to send Inaayat. She can go there and plant the tracker on him. As you had reported, that she was the one who had extracted that piece of information from the waiter. I think it would be best to send her. Also, she is an active part of this case."

"No." Mr Kapoor and I simultaneously revolt, our replies echoing in the empty room. He turns his head towards me, questioning my reply and I only shrug in response. His attention then moves towards Inaayat, who is seated between us. Quietly yet thinking.

"We can think of some alternatives?" He proposes but I don't dare to say anything. Not because I am leaving this matter for her dad to handle, but because I know that she would be highly disappointed if we tell her to not take this up.

It should be her decision, and also if I tell her to not do it, she is going to do it anyway.

"Why?" Her tone is cold and wintry.

"It's a very dangerous task, I can't let you go there alone." Mr Kapoor tries reasoning.

"And sending me to Enslep wasn't dangerous?"

I mean, she has got a point. I sit back, enjoying the flustered look on her father's face. After all, he had embarrassed me quite a lot during my trainee days.

Inaayat claims that she is willing to do the task, and even though I am terrified, I do not stop her. She is stronger than I had imagined, and she doesn't even know that. Motivation plays a very important role in one's life and she tries finding positive things to motivate herself, even in the most negative times.

When a person is mentally so strong, they can even overpower a person with a humongous physical strength. You just need a good presence of mind to dodge the obstacles.

Mr Kapoor is highly dubious about this whole situation but he still gives a nod for it.

The plan is then sketched out, the communication methods, the procedure everything is being planned. Right from her entry to the way she has to put the tracker device on him till her exit. There would be cop vans outside the club-hiding while I'll be in the car monitoring the entire process.

If all goes well, we would be arresting the leader and his entire gang that night.

Only if everything goes well.

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Her laughter resonates in my car as she snorts and chuckles over the incident that took place before we left the office. Once we had exited the office, her father had stopped us and taunted me on my past deportments.

"I still wonder how you managed to reach this post." He had scoffed. Inaayat who was pretty clueless about our exchange had coaxed her dad into divulging all the beautiful memories of my past days.

"I can't-you ran an anti-club against him?" She snickers and I bang my head against the steering wheel, mortified.

"He acted like a villain in my promising days," I murmur sheepishly and her laughter doubles.

"Drunk texts- telling him how he resembled Hitler! Why didn't I get to know about all these sooner." She enjoys my miseries. I point at her laughing state and mumble a 'this is why' lowly.

She finally stops, rubbing her face and wiping off the tears, she faces me. "Okay. I won't laugh now." But she is already smiling and biting her lips to prevent bursting into other rounds of giggles and chortles and titters.

I raise my head, resting now my cheek on the wheel, as I reach out for her hand resting on her thigh. Her face softens and it makes me smile at her, warm and subduing.

Taking her hand in mine, entwining it. Drawing some weird, unknown, gibberish and blathering patterns. My fingers trace the outlines on her palm, as we sit there in silence. I ponder over things, deducing and calculating and cancelling and concluding them.

It's intimate and plush and easy, the comforting silence, it's natural and innate and dangerously pleasing.

"What are you thinking?"

"I am scared. I don't want you to go there, alone."

"You'll be there, Ishaan." She tries reasoning, her voice soft and sweet.

"I'll be outside. It's different. I can't forget that he is the same guy who is responsible for my sister's death and my mother's medical condition. I am scared. I don't want to lose you, when I just got you."

"I won't be able to forgive myself, if anything happens to you."

Her eyes shine, gleaming in the heavy darkness sheathing us. The layer of fear is dense and murky.

She immures my hand between her palms, before she comforts me, lures me with a faint promise, something we both aren't even sure of. She knows it's perilous but she isn't going to back down.

I know it's fucking precarious but she isn't going to listen.

"It'll be fine." Her voice is uncertain but firm. She wants me to believe it, heck I want to believe it. Just for once, for a moment. I don't want to think about losing her, I just need a moment.

It's a sham way of calming and enticing my heart and mind, fake. And yet, I want to be fooled and duped and hoaxed.

The rosy path of believing her words take me away from the thorn laden path planned for us in the upcoming days.

For once, I want to see the situation from the rose-tinted glass, fraud and cheap. Cause, the real arena is going to be everything but merry.

The time casts its spell, incantation as I raise her hand, kissing her knuckles. Softly, gently and leisurely.

And like the tint glass breaks, the spell refutes and confutes, her phone is ringing.

"Hello?" I am not able to hear the words but I know the caller is stressed and in grief.

"I'll be there." Inaayat's voice is scared, timid and filled with agony. The call gets disconnected as soon as she says those words. She looks at me, gulping and confused.

"We need to go to the hostel. Right now." Her eyes almost watering and we start on our way.

The thorn laden path.

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I am not kidding when I say, I have tears in my eyes. Next chapter is going to be hell painful for me to write.

Don't forget to comment and vote.

Until the next chapter,
keep dodging the bullets,
ऊ.