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Chapter Text

Ajay and Sonia are engaged.
Karan was happy for them, he really was. He found it funny how Ajay looked at him questioningly as though asking for permission. He found it funny how Ajay thought Karan was madly in love with his girlfriend and oh god how he felt for the boy. Oh boy was Ajay wrong. Every time the pilot looked at him with an apology written all over his face Karan felt like grabbing him by the collar of that sexy leather jacket and yelling at him that he loves him not Sonia (well he did love her just not in that way) but that’s exactly why he kept his quite, he loved Ajay and only wanted him to be happy and correcting his assumptions would not lead to anything but a lifetime of awkwardness. As Ajay slipped the ring onto Sonia’s finger his smile grew and grew causing Karan’s heart to swell up in his chest. Seeing Ajay so happy was all he ever needed. His heart clenched and the guilt of sadness settled in the pit of his stomach, a wistful smile on his face as he joins his friends in teasing a crying Sonia. That night he went to bed drunk yet sober, feeling somewhat defeated on a tear soaked pillow, the same guilt rising and tearing him down.

Chapter Text

Aslam stared intently at Laxman who was chewing on his bottom lip trying to get into character, it had some sort of weird effect on him. He just couldn’t stop staring, that was until Dj’s loud laugh snapped him out of his trance. Aslam felt different, it was inexpiable. He never hated Laxman, never wanted to fight Laxman all he wanted was for Laxman to leave him the hell alone but now a sudden yearning to be around the man rose in him. Most days spent with him went a little like this one, he couldn’t stop staring at Laxman and Laxman did everything in his power to avoid the tall boy. It hurt Aslam but he would never admit that to another being. The shayar (poet) in him came to life more often these days and he wrote better than ever before, something about his poems felt more raw and real. He would write everything he felt with one particular person in mind and a cup of chai in his left hand. He knew it was wrong, he had been told it was wrong to feel what he was feeling for another man but it didn’t feel wrong.

Chapter Text

Karan sunk into the chair of the college canteen and kicked his legs up onto the table, his fingers caressing the pages of Ray Bradubury’s ‘Fahrenheit 451’ as he immersed himself further into the book.
“Karan ‘badass’ Singhania ke haath mein kitaab? Am i dreaming?” Karan jumped, startled by Aslam's voice.
(A book in Karan ‘badass’ Singhania’s hand?)

“Are you a closet nerd?” Aslam’s fake gasps cause Karan to go as red as a tomato from embarrassment as he scrambled to shove the book into his bag.

“Shut up” Karan mumbled, “tum yaha inta subha kya kar rahe ho?”

(What are you doing here so early in the morning?)

“I could ask you the same thing,” he raised an eyebrow, then sighed and added “neend nahi aayi aur ghar baithe bore ho raha tha. Socha tha ke yaha aake thoda chai ke saath yeh shaayari bhi finish kalru”
(I couldn't sleep and got bored just sitting around the house. I thought i could get some tea and finish off a poem)

After downing three cups of chai in ten minutes and talking absolute nonsense Aslam rises from his seat and extends his hand out to Karan gesturing for him to take it.

“Chalo Karan”
(Let’s go Karan)

“Kahan?”
(Where to?)

“Library” Aslam almost whispered the word. Karan looked surprised to say the least, he looked as though he was going through an existential crisis to put it in better words.

“Dekh yaar, ab saat baje hain dho ghante tak koi aanwale nahin hain. Let’s go read, mein tumhe apni favourite shayari sunata hoon aur tu mujhe apni favourite books dikhana. Chalo na Karan please mere liye!”

(Look man, it’s seven am right now and no one will show up for another two hours. Lets go read. I'll read my favourite poems to you and you can show me your favourite books. Let’s go Karan please for me!)

Playfully rolling his eyes, Karan accepted his defeat and hesitantly placed his hand in Aslam’s.
They barely stepped into the library before Karan found himself being dragged to the poetry section. They tiptoed around the shelves until Aslam finally came to a halt and gently pulled out a book from the topmost shelf.

“Ae soz e ishq tu ne mujhe kya bana diya

(O love, what have you made me)

meri har ek saans munajat ho gayi

(every breath I take will be a prayer)

Firaq Gorakhpuri”

Aslam read that poem and something in Karan changed, he ignored it.

“My turn” Karan turned on his heels leading Aslam into a corner of the library.
“Oscar Wilde’s ‘The Picture of Dorian Gray’ you know when I was reading-” Karan continued to ramble on about the book and why he loved it. Aslam couldn’t help but notice the glint in his eye, something he’d never seen in Karan before or maybe he wasn’t paying enough attention to notice. He was like a child showing his friends his favourite toy.
They grabbed a few books each and found a comfy spot on the floor in the corner of the library hidden away from the rest of the world and entering exciting, new, better ones with their knees brought up to their chests, arms touching and backs pressed up against the wall behind them. They sat there taking turns watching the other glow with passion as they recited passages and flew to different dimensions and eras with a few simple words. Time was flying way too fast. It wasn’t until the billionth time that Aslam’s phone vibrated in his bag breaking their little bubble that they two bibliophiles realised they were an hour and a half late for rehearsals.

“Sue hume marne wali hain"
(Sue is going to kill us) Aslam managed to get out between harsh pants on his way down the stairs.

They stumbled into rehearsals ripping their hands out of the other’s grasp and mumbling apologies for their tardiness and something about traffic.
Aslam felt special and happy that he was getting the chance to know a part of Karan he hid away. Their stolen glances, flushed cheeks and discreet half smiles went unnoticed, or so they hoped.

Chapter Text

It was well past midnight when Karan’s jeep came to halt two streets away from Aslam’s house. Karan was sure to drop him after everyone else so they could continue their ongoing argument on who the greatest poet is. Aslam’s laughter faded as the car stopped and the sudden change in his manner didn’t go unnoticed.

“Kya hua?” (what happened?) Karan’s voice was filled with genuine concern.

“Kuch nahi yaar, bas phir se wohi same hindu muslim lecture suna padega,” (nothing man, just don’t feel like listening to the same hindu muslim lecture) he sighed, getting out of the car.

“Bahar chale?” (Let’s go out?) Karan asked rather hesitantly. “Dad is at home and I’m also not in the mood for a lecture about America and not being poor or whatever.” Aslam’s only response was to eagerly jump back into the car.

They drove around for an hour or so before stopping at a deserted park. The place seemed familiar to Karan but neither of them could figure out where the hell they were. Despite that they sat on the hood of the car and sang along to old bollywood songs sipping on chilled diet cokes and obviously a lit cigarette in Karan’s hand.

Maybe it was the blooming orchids nearby or the warm wind that brought everything back to Karan who made a mental note to slap himself in privacy because how on earth could he forget this place.

 It was their first year in college and the year was close to ending, the boys were already inseparable and they had just met Sonia and were still in the process of warming up to her. DJ, Sukhi and Sonia had all returned back home to spend time with their families and Aslam was out of town attending his cousin’s nikah (wedding) leaving a scrawny little Karan all alone. That was until Ajay came to the rescue, he wasn’t like the other seniors he was cool and didn’t mind hanging out with them. Ajay and Karan really connected through their love for jackets and south indian music.

It was a hot summer afternoon and the two boys were seated under a large oak tree in the deserted park debating a rather serious topic, who “rocked” extravagant outfits better Freddie Mercury or Prince but obviously either would be a second to Elvis.

“Mujhe tum samajh mein nahi aate ho Karan” (I don’t understand you Karan) Karan just shrugged and half heartedly chuckled in response.

“College ki adhee ladkiyaan tere peeche hai, juniors aur seniors bhi! Par tu kisi ko bhi bau nahi deta, kyun?” (“half the girls in college are behind you [want you] juniors and seniors too! But you don’t pay attention to any of them, why?”)

“Not interested I guess” Karan’s gaze shifted to his fingers and stayed there as he twirled them around out of discomfort. Well God seemed to be on Karan’s side today, before Ajay could question him more about his love life or lack thereof Ajay’s favourite song ‘Ennavale Adi Ennavale’ started to play and he demanded they sing along.

The sun was setting and a cool breeze was taking over and the boys swapped their sodas for beers. Ajay wasn’t much of a drinker but he had a beer or two every once in a while. “I’ve only kissed one girl” Ajay’s confession was out of the blue and took Karan by surprise.

“I’ve never kissed a girl, I think I win this round of ‘whose love life is less existent’” they broke into a fit of laughter, heads thrown back and eyes closed.

“What about boys? Have you ever kissed a guy?” Karan froze when he heard those words. ‘Oh shit does he know about Vikrant from tenth?’ ‘Did someone else tell him?’ ‘Do I give gay vibes?’ ‘Did I say something when I was drunk?’and a million other similar thoughts ran through his mind desperately trying to find an answer or explanation. He was so lost in the whirlpool of his thoughts he didn’t notice Ajay’s face inching closer and closer to his. It wasn’t until soft lips were placed against his slightly chapped ones, his body froze in place he wanted to kiss back but his body wouldn’t let him move so he did the one thing he could, he closed his eyes hoping the other boy would take it as a sign of approval. It was a short kiss, far too short for either of their likings and when Ajay pulled back Karan managed to gain just enough strength to pull him back in for another kiss. This time it was more passionate and there was no hesitation. Karan’s hands cupped Ajay’s face, thumb caressing his cheekbone, Ajay’s hands snaked their way around Karan’s waist pulling him closer and holding him tighter, both boys completely melted into the kiss forgetting all their woes, wishing this moment would last forever. Butterflies churned in the pits of their stomach as they pulled apart a little out of breath, Karan averted his gaze to the trees around them and Ajay just chuckled at the other boy and wrapped his arm around Karan’s shoulder. “Good singer and a good kisser” his smirk made Karan melt a little bit more. Karan kept telling himself not to fall, he kept telling himself that Ajay was probably just another college guy wanting to experiment but the warmth and adoration in Ajay’s eyes conveyed a whole different story, one of affection and longing. Maybe eyes are the window to the soul.

They left the park on Ajay’s bike, Karan’s forehead resting on his shoulder and fingertips tracing patterns onto his leather clad back. Karen’s dad was out of town as usual so they spent the night at his house, in his room and for the first time since his mum passed away he didn’t feel so alone and suffocated in this house. Ajay’s eyes refused to stop watching Karan and the younger boy's flushed cheeks and inability to look Ajay in the eye only made him more irresistible. Not a lot was said that night, but both boys had a surge of emotions running through them, drunk on beer and passion, their senses heightened, each touch lingering and for those following days and nights spent alone the whole world disappeared.

“Earth to Karan!” Aslam waved his hand in front of Karan’s face, snapping him out of his thoughts. “Sorry” he lit another cigarette and they sat in silence for a few more moments before continuing their conversation on absolutely nothing in particular.

Chapter Text

Karan watched as another plane flew by, he tuned his friends out and focused on the clouds moving across the sky, painting their invisible illustrations, a cigarette lit in his right hand. His thoughts ran deep and for a few seconds he forgot his friends were physically present with him, he smiled at an almost forgotten memory and lit another cigarette feeling Ajay’s disapproving glare burn holes into the side of his face. Karan breathed in, his eyes fell closed behind his dark sunglasses and once again was lost in a deep void.
“Oye!” Dj yelled as he smacked Karan out of his thoughts and howls of laughter filled the place as Karan rubbed his head.
“What?” he asked, lighting up yet another cigarette receiving disapproving looks from Ajay and Aslam this time.
“Do you believe in love, true love? Aslam is surprisingly a non-believer” Sonia’s question made Karan uncomfortable, an inexplicable tension set in the air that only he could sense. He turns to Aslam with a fake shocked face, he obviously knew Aslam’s real, “extended” answer, they had talked about this a few nights ago.
“Mujhe laga har shayar ek die-hard romantic hain, Aslam what is this? Are you not a real poet?” (I thought every poet is a die-hard romantic, Aslam what is this? Are you not a real poet?) Karan’s teasing only led to a newspaper being thrown his way as the others laughed but Sukhi could’ve sworn he saw a flash of jealousy in Ajay’s eyes as Karan teasingly winked at the blushing poet.
“I for one feel like love is duniya ki sabse khubsurat cheez hai! It’s truly beautiful, having someone by your side who accepts you and loves you for who you are” (I for one feel like love is the most beautiful thing in this world.) Sue's eyes were glued on Dj as she voiced her opinion.
“I agree” Ajay stated, wrapping his arm around Sonia and pulling her closer and placing a kiss on her cheek. “That’s because both of your love stories worked out, you’re one of the few lucky ones” Sukhi explained. Karan, Aslam and even Laxman nodded in agreement.
“It’s beautiful when it works out,” Laxman added. “par dil bas ek baar sachi toot gaya na toh zindagi guzar jaati hai ‘fix’ karne ki ya bhool ne koshish mein,” (It’s beautiful when it works out but if your heart truly breaks just once your whole life passes by trying to fix it or in attempts to forget it,) he sighed.
“Tera dil kis ne toda Pandey?” (Who broke your heart, Pandey?) Sukhi asked with a small chuckle. Laxman just rolled his eyes, a ‘tsk’ slipped through his lips signalling it wasn’t worth going into.
“Oh! Tell me your first love stories!” Sue suggested.
“I’ll go first. Uska naam Micheal tha. Hum ek hi high school mein the and we had the same classes too. Very sweet and tall, he had blonde hair and big brown eyes. He was on the basketball team. Hum do saal ke liye saath mein the. Then we went our separate ways for university,” (I’ll go first. His name was Micheal. We went to the same high school and we had the same classes. Very sweet and tall, he had blonde hair and big brown eyes. He was on the basketball team. We were together for three years. Then we went our separate ways for university.) Sue’s story was short and she didn’t really seem like she was into this Micheal at all let alone in love with him.
“Okay my turn,” Sonia took a moment to think. “His name was Kunal aur woh mera neighbour, then he moved to America or Australia I don't remember!” (His name was Kunal and he was my neighbour, then he moved to America or Australia, I don't remember!) she giggled slightly. Dj and Sukhi went on to talk about their first loves who unsurprisingly turned out to be their teachers from the seventh standard. Ajay teased them and the girls were disgusted.
“What about you Aslam?” Sue turned to him and leaned back into Dj’s arms. Aslam shrugged.
“My first and only love is and always will be poetry” Sue and Laxman laughed as everyone else rolled their eyes muttering about how cheesy that statement was and throwing snarky comments his way. Karan realised that most of his friends just brushed off their first love and just moved past it, he looked down at the smooth curb bracelet on his wrist and started to play with it. It was at this moment Karan realised he was a lover, Karan Singhania, a textbook bad boy is a fucking lover. The letter engraved into the bracelet brought back so many memories, a letter, more specifically ‘V’ overwhelmed him with emotion and here he was, being prompted to talk about it as though it was just a passing fling. He looked up to see all eyes on him, some furrowed eyebrows staring at him as though he just said something worrisome. Karan shrugged.
“Never been in love” he muttered, barely audible and his eyes shifted to the rocky ground beneath him. He could sense the jaws dropping around him, their reactions were laughable.
“What? You’re joking!” Sonia exclaimed. Karan just smiled and shook his head no. He was sure Ajay could see right through him to the fingers crossed behind his back as he blatantly lied to his friends. Ajay, unfortunately, does not have x-ray vision. Ajay felt his heart shatter. If Karan had taken off his sunglasses he’d have been able to see the effect he had on the pilot.
“Pandey! Tera turn!” Sukhi shuffled to face the man standing slightly off to the side in a soft lilac kurta. He shook his head no. The group immediately began to nag him, shouting incoherent sentences at him all at once.
“Tha koi,” (There was someone) he tried to brush it off and end the conversation.
“C’mon Laxman, thoda sa elaborate karo!” (C’mon Laxman, elaborate a little bit) Sonia encouraged and insisted he go on.
“Haan Laxman bolo na.” (Yeah Laxman, go on.) Aslam leaned slightly forward and smirked at him. Laxman sighed, realising there would be no way he could get out of this one.
“Naam tha Grace. Christians the aur hum Hindus, uske parents maane nahi. Kush?” (Name was Grace. They were Christians, we are Hindus, her parents weren’t okay with it. Happy now?) Laxman asked, raising an eyebrow. Sukhi nodded his head but ensured that everyone knew he was only half satisfied with that answer, everyone laughed at his childish behaviour. Karan on the other hand, laughed at the glint in Laxman’s eyes, it was one he would often see in his own when he accidentally caught his reflection in his glass windowpane, the light from his soft hazel coloured ceramic lamp illuminating the area around his desk as he picked up his pen in the dead of the night and wrote of the more beautiful moments in his life. They weren’t immaculate, beautiful pieces of poetry like Aslam’s writing was, they were simple recounts, twisted with the fantasy endings Karan had always hoped for but never lucky enough to be bestowed with. Those stories were for Karan, and Karan only. His little secret.

Chapter Text

Karan shrugged. “Never been in love” he muttered, barely audible and his eyes shifted to the rocky ground beneath him. He could sense the jaws dropping around him, their reactions were laughable.  

Ajay whipped his head around so fast his neck almost snapped. 

‘He’s never been in love. Never’ Ajay thought as his eyes dropped to the ground. An uncomfortably familiar feeling in the pit of his stomach, something one would describe as a mixture of fear, sadness and possibly a hint of anger. His mind pondered over the words as he tried to shake off the nasty feeling and focus on Laxman’s words as they flew past him. Then the realization hit him, he's next. ‘Fuck.’ Ajay knew he couldn’t talk about his actual first love nor could he lie to his friends, he’s too readable for that. A distraction was what he needed. 

“I know there is more to this story! Don’t worry Pandey ek na ek din mein figure out kar lunga” (I know there is more to this story! Don’t worry Pandey I’ll figure it out one day or another,) Sukhi exclaimed.

“Figure out baad mein kar lena, ab toh chalte hain. It’s getting late” (You can figure it out later, let’s go now. It’s getting late)  Ajay jokes, hoping he created a good enough diversion. The nods of agreement caused an internal wave of relief for Ajay. He chuckled as the others ran circles around him sporting goofy smiles and racing to the car, all except Laxman and Karan of course.  

Karan sauntered towards the car while using his hands to light yet another cigarette while Laxman awkwardly strolled behind them, taking the last available seat in the car.

‘Those goddamn cigarettes’ Internally sighing, Ajay hopped onto his bike and led the car to the nearest bar. Ajay avoided Karan, a change that went unnoticed for the night as Ajay’s heart tugged at Karan’s declaration of being inexperienced in love. Ajay knew what they had was more than a passing fling or ‘time pass’ as Dj would call it. He knew what they had was beyond their own comprehension, let alone those of who were on the outside looking in. He knew the pain of letting something go for the better when the better posed as threats that were seemingly empty until they were not. He was forced to leave Karan in the dark and watch on as he drifted further and further into it. Images of the letter he last wrote to Karan in his first year of training flashed in his mind, his biggest lie.

The sun was rising as Ajay sat in the large armchair directly opposite the large tv. His hands trembling as his blood boiled with anger, the home minister uttered absolute garbage.

“Flight lieutenant Shaheed Bashir was an incompetent pilot and we need to ensure that we give our future air force pilots more vigorous training with stricter coaches!” 

Those words drove Ajay over the edge as he shut the tv off and threw the remote, flinging it towards the wall. Panting as his rage took over him. His mother stopped her morning prayers to look over him with concern.

“Kya hua beta?” (What happened son?) she put a hand on his shoulder as he leaned back onto the wall. He shook his head, unable to form the right words to express his anger. 

“Ma, I’m going out. Mere liye wait mat karna, I might be late okay?” (Ma, I'm going out. Don't wait for me, I might be late okay?0 He grabbed his keys and ran out the door without listening to her response. She sighed, shaking her head in frustration at her son’s rush. Ajay let his hands and instinct guide his bike, shocked as he ended up at a place he hasn’t been to in a long while. The Singhania mansion, as he used to call it. He peered into the gates and cursed inwardly as a white car sits idly in the car park, men lined up like figurines next to each vehicle and at the entrance. Ajay sighs, parking his bike to the side he slowly made his way to the small alleyway on one side of the house and jumped over the fence. He tiptoes around the building to find the entrance to the kitchen, he punches in the code sighing in relief to find it hasn’t changed. He greeted the workers like old friends, as they were and slowly made his way up the staircase, hyper-aware of his surroundings. He found Karan’s room almost instantly and locked it. The small bit of anger he didn’t know was still hidden in him faded as he heard Karan’s voice coming from the bathroom, though muffled by the shower still as sweet as the first time he had heard it. Ajay smiled to the empty room as he wandered around it, analysing it as though it held some secret that he was obliged to figure out. The pictures on his cupboard caught Ajay’s eye, the shower turned off but Karan’s voice continued to pour out words, it was some old ghazal Ajay didn’t remember the name of. The door unlocked and out stepped Karan, dripping wet with only a towel hanging loosely from his waist and one in his hand rubbing his hair dry. He continued to hum, unaware of the pilot's presence.

“Didn’t take you for a bathroom singer” Ajay smirked, leaning against the table as Karan shrieked and covered his bare body with the towel. He rolled his eyes as they landed on Ajay who was laughing hysterically. He bunched up the second towel and threw it at the laughing man. “Not funny” Karan mumbled, crossing his arms. Then suddenly panic stemmed in him as he rushed past Ajay and looked out the small window, searching frantically.

“Did dad see you?” he asked, still in a state of panic.

“Oh yes! Humne ek cup chai bhi pe thi, saath mein, he’s very cool!” (Oh yes! We even had a cup of tea together, he’s very cool!) Ajay chuckled at his own humour.

“Very funny,” Karan stated sarcastically, moving to grab some clothes.

“I saw the news, you okay?” Karan’s voice was soft and barely audible, he was treading carefully. Ajay could only nod, he didn’t have the strength to talk about it yet but he didn’t want anyone to worry. “Didn’t know him very well. I have to go to the funeral later today.”

Ajay turned to the table and picked up the framed picture of himself, his heart fluttering slightly.

“I remember this day” he showed the picture to Karan.

“Yeah, it was the day you left for your first year of training right?” Ajay nodded

‘No, it was the day I realised I was madly in love with you but was too much of a coward to admit it’ He brushed the thought away.

“Want to go out? Dj, Sue Laxman and Aslam took the car to show Sue around. Sonia has some college thing and Sukhi got too drunk last night as usual so it will be just us, if that’s okay?” Karan internally cringed at his own question. 

“Yeah, of course” 

“Dad’s gone, we can use the front door now” Karan chuckled. “Rehearsals start at ten so we have two hours to chill”

“Funeral starts at half-past ten so I have some time too” he smiled back.

“Dosa at Chanti’s?” Ajay asked as Karan took a seat behind him on the bike.

“You read my mind” he replied, hesitantly moving his hand to rest on Ajay’s shoulder. Ajay smiled to himself as Karan’s soft touch dug up so many memories.

They sat across each other, gobbling down their breakfast while talking absolute rubbish.

“How long are you staying this time Jay?” Ajay’s heart fluttered, it had been too long since he had heard Karan call him Jay. 

“Three months” Karan raised an eyebrow.

“That’s long,” he said, confused.

“Yeah, forced leave. Something about not taking enough last year or whatever,” Ajay trailed off, lying never came easy to him. 

“So tell me more about this documentary,” Ajay asked, cringing at his horrible attempt to change the subject. 

“I’m sure Sonia’s told you enough,” Ajay’s eyebrows furrowed at his response. “Whenever she’s on the phone she’s talking about it,” Karan explained.

“Yeah but I want to know what you think about it” Ajay prompted him to talk about the documentary, knowing he would have strong opinions and genuine curiosity, truth be told he knew of nothing that happened while he was off protecting the country. 

“I think I’m starting to understand your patriotism,” Karan started. Ajay watched him closely, the topic seemed to ignite something in him. His eyes were fiery and filled with a passion he hadn’t noticed before. 

His time with Karan passed too quickly for his liking. Ajay stood right behind the family at the funeral, tears threatening to spill from his tired eyes, the anger returning rather quickly causing him to be shifty and quiet through it all. An urge to say something, do something rose in him and despite his efforts didn’t wither. He looked over at the familiar faces beside him, the same urge and anger in their eyes.

Meanwhile, back at the ‘classroom’ the group of friends sat scattered over the steps, thick scripts in each hand. Sue sat cross-legged in front of Laxman and Aslam, helping them.

“That’s really good Laxman, bas ab tum Aslam ke saath practice kaaro. You both almost have it perfect, just practice okay? I’ll go see what Dj and Sukhi are doing,” (That’s really good Laxman, now just practice with Aslam. You both almost have it perfect, just practice okay? I’ll go see what Dj and Sukhi are doing,) they nodded and turned to each other, knees just inches away from touching. Aslam started saying his lines, Laxman listened, biting his lip in concentration.

“Sorry!” Laxman blurted out in the middle of his own lines. Aslam frowned in confusion.

“Laxman woh line nahi hai,” (Laxman that's not the line) he shook his head innocently.

“No, I mean I’m sorry, like now.” Laxman attempted to explain. “Oh” was all Aslam said, still slightly confused.

“Maine tumhe jaise treat kiya tha, woh bahut galat tha. You didn’t deserve it. Maine kal raat ek kavitha padha tha-” (The way I treated you, it was very wrong. You didn’t deserve it. I read a poem last night-)

“Tum ek kavita ki waja se sorry bol rahe ho?” (You’re saying sorry because of a poem?) Aslam asked, interrupting with his eyebrows raised.

“Ye- No. I’m genuinely sorry. I’ve been wanting to apologise for a while but mauka nahi mila,” (Ye-No. I’m genuinely sorry. I’ve been wanting to apologise for a while but I didn’t get a chance to,) he explained, guilt evident in his eyes and posture as he leaned over his script.

“What did the poem say?” Aslam asked, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“It’s called Awake by Sarojini Naidu

Waken, O mother! thy children implore thee,

Who kneel in thy presence to serve and adore thee!

The night is aflush with a dream of the morrow,

Why still dost thou sleep in thy bondage of sorrow?

Awaken and sever the woes that enthral us,

And hallow our hands for the triumphs that call us!

Are we not thine, O Belov’d, to inherit

The manifold pride and power of thy spirit?

Ne’er shall we fail thee, forsake thee or falter,

Whose hearts are thy home, and thy shield and thine altar.

Lo! we would thrill the high stars with thy story,

And set thee again in the forefront of glory.

Hindus: Mother! the flowers of our worship have crowned thee!

Parsis: Mother! the flame of our hope shall surround thee!

Mussulmans: Mother! the sword of our love shall defend thee!

Christians: Mother! the song of our faith shall attend thee!

All Creeds: Shall not our dauntless devotion avail thee?

Harken! O Queen and O goddess, we hail thee!”

Aslam starred, stunned to silence, mouth hanging slightly open.

“You know the whole poem?” he asked, amazed. Laxman nodded, slightly embarrassed. Aslam smiled, memories of being called a lunatic for sitting on the terrace using all his efforts to memorise large poems flashed in front of him.

“My friend was practically in love with Naidu, I found the book under the bed last night and now I understand why. I never thought a poem would encourage me to do anything, ever. My friend was a lot like you, very sweet and loved reading and writing.” Laxman stopped himself from saying more and turned back to the script. It didn’t take long for Aslam to figure out the ‘friend’ was Grace. Aslam leaned over, his lips just millimetres away from Laxman’s ear.

“Apology accepted” he whispered, leaning back into his previous position. He missed the slight blush that crawled up Laxman’s neck. Laxman was grateful that Aslam looked away.

Across the busy duo sat Sue and Sonia sharing knowing looks and smirks between themselves.

Chapter Text

“Yaar Sonia, Ajay ko kya hua? Aaj kal bahut udaas lag raha hai, sab theek?” (Hey Sonia, what’s up with Ajay? He looks quite upset these days, everything okay?) Aslam asks as Sonia sits beside him in the car.
“Haan main bhi wohi soch raha tha” (Yeah I was thinking the same thing,). Sukhi agrees with Aslam. Sonia sighs, sharing a knowing look with Karan.
“Tum log news nahi dekhte ho kya?” (Do you guys not watch the news?) Karan intrudes into their conversation. Both of them hesitantly shrug, glancing confusedly at each other. Karan and Laxman scoffed, shaking their heads.
“Why would they Karan? They’re too busy looking at girls on the screen,” Sonia commented.
“Another pilot” Laxman started “his aircraft basically blew up in the sky.”
“Everyone is blaming bad training and Ajay told me he knew the pilot, they were friends” Sonia added. Both the boys mumbled a “oh”, faces dropping slightly as the extent of their ignorance hit them. Karan sighed disappointedly as he realised Ajay had lied to him, yet again.
“The bloody defence minister is going on and on about better training and other bullshit that isn’t true,” Sonia adds.
“Ajay ko zyaada tang mat karna. Tum sab jante hai woh kaisa hai. Give him some space, let him grieve,” (Don’t nag Ajay too much. You all know how he is. Give him some space, let him grieve,) Karan instructs them. They nodded understandingly, eyes slightly lowered as they try to empathise with their friend.

The car holts in front of Mitro’s dhaba and the boys snap out of their thoughts and switch back into their bubbly selves, jumping around Mitro and pulling her leg as she smacks them with whatever utensil she was holding. Ajay drops down across Karan, laughing at the antics of his friends. As they settled down to eat, Ajay cleared his throat as though he was preparing himself to say something. Everyone glances up at him expectantly as he takes a sip of water and goes back to devouring the meal in front of him.
“Guys as promised, since we’ve finished shooting, tomorrow and the day after we have off. No editing, or reshooting, nothing at all as promised!” Sue announced giggling as the boys erupted in cheer, complaining about how anymore shooting would kill them. Laxman only sighs in relief.
“Toh saturday ka plan kya hai? Ajay?” (So what’s the plan for saturday? Ajay?) Sukhi asks as the expectant look returns on everyone’s face. Ajay shrugs.
“I’m a little busy on Sunday, but I’m definitely on for Saturday” he says, not making eye contact.
“Busy?” Sonia’s eyebrows furrow.
“Yeah I told you right about the work I have to do for work?” He says eyeing her as she nods knowingly. The others eye them suspiciously as they sense the hesitance and confusion in his voice. Sonia’s face drops slightly as she leans in to give him a small kiss.
“What about tomorrow?” Aslam asks with hope in his eyes, sporting a nervous smile.
“Tumhe kahi jana hai?” (You want to go somewhere?) Sue asks, leaning over to look at him.
He perks up, and chuckles nervously before saying something he knew everyone would hate.
“Actually, Bookshop has invi-” he was cut off by Dj and Sukhi groaning simultaneously. He shot daggers at them and waited for them to stop protesting his request without properly listening to what he had to say.
“Baath toh puri karne do yaar. Elvin K Vin has been invit-'' (Let me finish, guys. Elvin K Vin has been invit-) This time he was cut off by Karan choking furiously on his food. Dj passed him some water.
“You good?” Karan nodded in response, before cautiously going back to his food ensuring his facial expression did not change as Aslam went back to talking.
“Yeah so, he’s coming and he’s literally the best Indian-American author. We have to go! Guys I promise ek ghanta lagega max please? I’ll get my book signed then we can leave cool?” (Yeah so, he’s coming and he’s literally the best Indian-American author. We have to go! Guys I promise it’ll take one hour max please? I’ll get my book signed then we can leave cool?) Aslam asks, leg bouncing in anticipation. Ajay chuckled slightly at his friend’s childlike pout and pleadingly furrowed eyebrows.
“I’m with Aslam on this one. I’ve read one of his books aur mujhe itna pasand aaya ke maine do hafte mein theen baar pad liye! Hume zaroor jana chahiye,” (I’m with Aslam on this one. I’ve read one of his books and I liked it so much that I read it three times in two weeks! We should definitely go,) Ajay states enthusiastically, agreeing with Aslam who perked up smiling widely.
“Indian-American? Naam se sirf American lag raha hai” Sukhi stated.
“Woh uska pen name hai idiot,” (That’s his pen name idiot) Aslam clarified. Sukhi furrowed his eyebrows and frowned.
“Pen name?” he asks, tilting his head to the side.
“It’s the name he uses to write, writers use pen names to hide their real identity or just for fun I guess. His real name is Vikrant Lal,” Sue explains, a hint of excitement overriding her voice. Karan kept his usual quiet as the others argued over Saturday’s plan.
“Wait, isn’t he that singer guy? He sang a really nice song, what was the name?” Sonia asks.
“Yeah he sang that parinda song, he wrote it also!” Aslam was beyond gushing at this point.
“Okay theek hai wahi chalte hain but uske baad club jayenge okay?” (Okay fine but we are going to the club afterwards okay?) Dj asks. Aslam groans but reluctantly agrees.
Karan sits on the edge of the cot, a cigarette in his hand yet again, staring at the bracelet yet again. Something he believed he’d not found himself doing in a while. Flicking the bud of the cigarette away he turned slightly to watch his friends sleeping soundly. Sighing, he lays back and stares at the stars trying to ignore the scenarios his creative mind was making of tomorrow and the chill that caught his spine.
-
The jeep halted once again near Aslam’s house as the afternoon sun burned brightly against the city. Karan sat in the driver's seat gripping the wheel as though it were a lifeline. The drive to the bookshop felt quiet, though that was not the reality, not with Delhi’s traffic and his friends in the back seat but those seemed to fade in the background in comparison to the voice in his head. The voice wasn’t saying anything in particular, just blabbering in panic.
“Tum log undar jao, mein, Sukhi aur Karan yahaan wait karenge” (You guys go inside. Sukhi, Karan and I will wait here) Dj said, observing the crowd outside the shop as Karan parked. Karan sighed in relief as the others headed inside, Aslam almost jumping with excitement, the smile never leaving his face.
“Why do we let him ruin our weekends like this?” Dj asked, grabbing the Marlboro box Karan handed him.
“Oh please, tune agree kiya kyun ki Sue ko aana tha” (Oh please, you agreed because Sue wanted to come here too) Sukhi said whacking Dj as Karan laughed when Dj gasped at the accusation.
“He’s not wrong Dj” Karan says, smirking at the blush that crawls up Dj’s cheeks. They sat in the car talking out of their asses, smoking one cig after another for almost half an hour before they ran out.
“Where’s Karan?” Sue asks, walking towards the car, the others trailing swiftly behind her. The crowd had disappeared and only a few people lay scattered around the parking lot, most of them worked there and were out for a smoke break and others were hopping into their cars or onto their bikes to leave.
“Woh cigarettes lene gaya” (He went to get cigarettes) Sukhi replies, taking another drag from the one lit in his hand. Karan emerges from the back of a car, throwing the new Marlboro pack in the air, playing with it as if it were a ball, as his hand lays on the door handle a voice rings in his ear and he instinctively turns back at the name called out.
“Chhote!” the voice called, surprised.
Karan tried to make sense of the figures that wrapped him in a warm, peculiarly familiar embrace. As they pulled back from their friendly assault Karan’s confused expression faded as he realised who he’d met with.
“Angad! Rohan!” Karan exclaims, pulling them into another hug, a huge smile on his face. The others watched from the car, confused by the whole ordeal.
“Kaise ho tum log?” (How are you guys?) he asks, pulling back.
“Hum theek hai. Tu bata, school ke baad toh tu gayab ho gaya tha,” (We’re good. What about you? You disappeared after school) one man with the turban asked, pushing Karan playfully.
“I’m fine bhai, woh number badal diya tha aur school bhi isliye tum logon ko contact nahi kar paya” (I’m fine bro, I changed my number and school too that’s why I couldn’t contact you guys) he replied.
“Vikrant ko dekhne aaya hai?” (You’ve come to see Vikrant) the man in the light blue shirt asks Karan. Karan chuckles nervously.
“No, my friends are fans” he reveals hesitantly. He turned towards the car.
“By the way this Sukhi, Dj, Sonia, Ajay, Laxman, Sue, Aslam. My friends and guys this is Angad” he points to the man with a black dastar matching his black shirt, “and this is Rohan.” He points to the man wearing a light blue shirt. They greet each other, a slight awkwardness in the air.
“Viku will be so happy that you’re here. After all you guys were so close,” Angad states.
“Viku as in Vikrant as in Vikrant Lal?” Aslam asks, connecting the dots, the duo just nod. His jaw drops.
“Do you guys have plans for today?” Rohan asks, addressing the group sitting in the car.
“No not really” Sonia answers absentmindedly before Karan could.
“Bhai log chale?” (Bros lets go?) A voice calls out loudly behind them, before Rohan could ask them to join them. The figure freezes in front of the group, slowly taking off his glasses. Aslam let out an indignant sound, something between a squeak and a moan.
“Karan?” he whispers breathlessly, barely audible and if it wasn’t for the silence no one would have heard him say it.
“Hi” Karan replies in the same unintentionally hushed voice. They stare at each other in disbelief, Karan suddenly felt hot and the sun was beginning to set.
Though evidently hesitant, the man pulls Karan into a hug and it doesn’t last as long as either man wants it to. Karan and Vikrant seemed quite shocked that they were in the other’s presence. A tingling sensation attacked them both and they felt the other’s warmth linger in their arms.
“Guys this is the infamous Vikrant Lal” Karan says, slowly turning to the car and trying to regain a cool, unphased demeanor, catching Alsam’s glare then awe filled eyes. Karan’s sunglasses were still kept on his face, obstructing public display of most of his emotions. They introduced themselves and Vikrant happily shook all of their hands.
“Well Chhote tumhare dost hamare dost hain toh hotel paas mein hi hai follow kar lo okay?” (Well Chhote, your friends are our friends so the hotel I’m staying at is nearby. Follow us, okay?) Vikrant didn’t give Karan the chance to decline the offer as he turned on his heels and stepped into the fancy car that halted in front of him.
Karan hopped back into his car. Aslam sat in the passenger seat glaring at him as Ajay’s and Dj’s bikes took off into the distance. Aslam’s glare was fixed on Karan, making him squirm in his seat.
“Is something wr-” Karan started.
“Why didn’t you tell us you knew Vikrant Lal?” Aslam was practically yelling. Laxman and Sukhi sniggered.
“Yeah Chhote why didn’t you tell us?” Sukhi teased while leaning over to pull his cheeks.
“I haven’t talked to him in years, I didn’t even know you were a fan.” Karan mumbled, swatting Sukhi’s hands away.
Aslam’s grumbles fell quiet as they entered Vikrant’s hotel suite.
“Can I ask you one thing? Aap Karan ko Chhote kyun bulate ho?” (Why do you call Karan Chhote?) Sue asks, grabbing the soft drink Vikrant handed her.
“Oh! He was really short when we met him and he’s also younger, we were his seniors.” Rohan explained. Karan rolled his eyes, throwing a pillow towards Vikrant as he crouched, over exaggerating how short Karan really was.
“I wasn’t even that short and I’m taller than you now!” Karan stuck his tongue out to tease Vikrant.
“Whiskey?” Vikrant asked, all except Angad, Aslam and Sonia nodded.
After the first glass of some strong whiskey the air sensed to be less tense. It was a little early for alcohol but it calmed them and let them loosen up and the non-drinkers felt more free too.
“So let me guess you guys were probably the cool kids and all the girls were after you. You wore leather jackets and played basketball huh?” Sonia asked, taking another sip of her cola. Karan chuckled as Rohan almost spit out his drink. Vikrant and Angad were practically rolling on the floor as the others just waited in confusion. Vikrant shook his head, still laughing and ran a hand through his perfectly coiffed hair. Angad calmed down enough to speak.
“No, oh god no. We went to an all boys boarding school so no girls and we were the lamest people there,” he revealed.
“Absolute losers” Karan added, playing with the hem of his white shirt, avoiding expectant stares.
“Karan was a loser?” Laxman asked in disbelief. The four school friends nodded, still recovering from their laughing fit.
“Karan, what have you done to make them think you were ever cool?” Rohan asked, ruffling Karan’s hair.
“I am cool, idiot” Karan shot back, slapping Rohan’s hand away. Angad rolled his eyes playfully.
“We were the musical kids but we did play soccer,” Angad revealed. “I played the drums, Rohan was the pianist, Karan vocals and guitar and Vikrant vocals too, we were terrible.” He laughed, downing his soda.
“What did you guys play?” Sue asked.
“Mostly covers, sometimes for a change we’d try to take one of Vikrant’s long poems and turn them into songs but that never went well,” Karan chuckled at the memories.
“Yeah,” Vikrant agreed, “we would just get tired and give up after two days of trying. Apart from that we would play anything and everything.”
“From Mohammed Rafi’s ‘Chaudhvin ka Chand’ to Paul McCartney’s ‘Twenty Flight Rock’. We’d skip lunch and hide in the music rooms, luckily the music teachers liked us enough to let us stay,” Rohan chimed in.
“Oh please! They liked you cause you were such a teacher’s pet!” Karan groaned.
“And you weren’t?” Vikrant asked, smirking.
“What?” Sukhi’s jaw dropped. “I cannot imagine Karan sucking up to teachers.”
“I didn’t!” Karan shouted defensively.
“Karan topped almost every class, most teachers loved him. He used to go to the library too and actually study! We had to stop him,” Rohan revealed, laughing.
“Rohan you’re an ass. I’ve kept all these secrets hidden for years and you’re just ruining my reputation,” Karan grumbled, hitting Rohan over the head.
“Woh tera already kharab hai tu fikar mat kar,” (don’t worry, your reputation is already ruined) Dj jokingly assured him. Karan couldn’t find another pillow to throw so he settled for flipping Dj off.

More stories were shared as the sun set, Karan groaned as Rohan continued to reveal his best kept secrets and as his friends laughed along, teasing him continuously, even Laxman had made a few remarks on ‘scholar’ Karan.
“I was never first! Okay fine, I used to get top five but never first!” He tried to defend himself but it was no use. Aslam chuckled, he’d never seen Karan this way, frustrated and annoyed, a little flustered and embarrassed evident from the slight pink hue on his cheeks.
“I was not a teacher’s pet! Teachers mujhe pasand karte the kyun ki mein quiet tha because mere apne class mein koi dost nahi the!” (Teachers liked me because I was quiet because I didn’t have any friends in my own class) Karan tried again but to no avail, the others just laughed him off.
“Karan, being a scholar is a good thing! You should be proud!” Aslam tried to encourage Karaan but ended up in a laughing fit of his own.
“Sorry, man I just can’t see you actually studying” he defended himself.
“Screw all of you,” Karan muttered, downing another drink.
“Okay Karan come on,” Vikrant abruptly said, standing up from his spot on the other side of the room. Karan shot him a questioning look.
“Dude! I’ve heard Delhi night life is the best and who better to help me check it out than my best friend and his friends?” Vikrant asked rhetorically, stretching out a hand for Karan to grab. Karan lifted himself off the sofa, disregarding the offered hand.
“I know exactly where we should go!” Dj exclaimed, practically jumping out of his seat. Hurriedly they all filed out of the luxurious suite, jumbled conversations thrown into the air, a still slightly star struck Aslam rambling words of awe to anyone who would care enough to listen.

They filled the air with howls of laughter and excitement as they entered the club, walls embellished with light blue paint, lights bouncing off the walls and music loud enough to make the ground beneath them vibrate. The group had settled on the edge of the dance floor, somehow Ajay and Sue had managed to drag Laxman into the crowd.

Karan stealthily snuck away to the bar to down a few drinks and be rid of the lingering confusion.
“Woah calm down tiger,” Vikrant joked from behind him. Karan had stiffened at the voice, unintentionally. He leaned against the bar, dangerously close to Karan’s bar stool.
“Hey,” Karan put his glass down.
“Hi,” comfortable silence followed.
“Kaise ho tum?” (How are you?) It was a miracle that Karan was able to hear the man’s whispers over the loud music. Karan only nodded, not meeting Vikrant’s gaze. Fingers playing with the bracelet.
“Tum?” (you?)
“I’m fine” Vikrant responded blandly. A million questions ran through the both of them, questions, statements, things that they wanted to say to each other, have wanted to for a while now but the air was fragile.
“You still have it,” Vikrant said, placing a hand over Karan’s fingers, addressing the bracelet he had gifted him when they were boys. Karan’s hand stopped fiddling under Vikrant’s hold.
Vikrant did not pull away, Karan didn’t urge him too though he still refused to look at him.
Karan, control yourself, Karan thought.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered to Vikrant, who stared at him, stunned and about to protest.
“I’m sorry” Karan continued, “I got all your emails and facebook messages, throughout the years. I couldn’t respond because I was a coward, I still am and the only reason I’m here right now is my friends. And I’m sorry that I left when you needed me most,” the words were whispered, in a way that it almost felt like a sacred confession.
“Are you done?” The question was almost sarcastic but it gave Karan the grain of confusion he needed. For the first time in lord knows how many years Karan looked at Vikrant, actually looked at the man. He noted how he had changed, for one he had a slight stubble, he was mature and his once curly, unkempt hair now perfectly styled but his eyes and that goddamn smile, those didn’t change, not even in the slightest. Maybe that’s what made this confrontation or conversation -whatever one would call it- all the more harder.
“We were children, we weren’t at fault,” Vikrant started, still in a low whisper, ”Don’t be sorry, I’m not. I wouldn’t change it, I’d only wish the good times lasted longer. Do you regret it? Us?”
“No.” Karan was surprised that Vikrant would even ask such a question, but he couldn’t blame him because Karan himself had similar questions.
“Did you resent me?” The words left Karan’s lips before he could stop them, but he needed answers. “When you didn’t email me for a while I thought you probably hated me because of everything, I know I never replied but,” he tried to give some sort of pretext for his question but nothing came out.
“In all honesty, for a while I did. I’ll admit that it was unnecessarily childish of me to do so but we were children. I learned that it wasn’t you I resented, it was more so what we had, I decided that it only caused pain to too many people but I got over myself soon enough or I just couldn’t stay away from you,” Vikrant retracted his hand after speaking, Karan had wanted to stop him from doing so but from the reflection of his whiskey glass he caught his friends making their way to them. Vikrant scooted away to make space for Angad and Sukhi between them.

The pub was now mostly cleared out and only a handful of other people remained.
“Tum dono kya baat kar rahe ho yahan akele akele?” (What are you both talking about over here all alone) Dj asked, dropping down onto a seat near the pale blue sofas. Sukhi clapped a hand down on Karan’s back before taking a seat next to him.
“Just reminiscing.” Vikrant stated. Karan turned in his seat to face the gang. The others also, ungraciously plopped down onto the sofas.
“Purane adat abhi bhi nahi chooti? They used to do this all the time, vanish into their own little bubble,” (Haven’t let go of your old habit? They used to do this all the time, vanish into their own little bubble) Rohan added with a chuckle, causing Ajay to eye the duo suspiciously. The group fell into a conversation on politics and freedom as Angad asked Sue about her stay in India.
Ajay glanced between Vikrant and Karan, Vikrant’s gaze seemed to be fixated on his friend and Ajay didn’t like that not when every time Karan happened to glance over at Vikrant his eyes would soften, in a way that he seemed upset, like he’d lost something. He’d felt that familiar pang of jealousy he would feel when other men would try to flirt with Sonia and she would respond, oblivious to the ulterior motives.

‘Jealousy.’ Ajay thought. ‘You have no right to feel jealous, you left remember? Why should you feel jealous, it’s not Sonia he’s looking at.’

“How did you get into poetry and writing?” Sukhi asked Vikrant, wanting to move on from this topic that had seemed to follow them for a while now.

“My uncle got me into reading classics and poetry and the more I read the more I wanted to write my own pieces,” Vikrant explained.
“It must be hard though, staying motivated with all the deadlines and things right?” Aslam asked.
Vikrant smiled. “This is becoming increasingly like an interview.”
Karan laughed, obviously drunk, he had been downing whiskey after whiskey as the others spoke.
“I’m sorry I-” Aslam began apologising before Vikrant intervened.
“No no! Don’t apologise, I’m more than happy to answer. I tend to ignore deadlines, most of the publishers I work with tend to hate that about me but writing is art and art can’t be rushed. Along the way I made some publisher friends and they’re more lenient with deadlines and I can push them a little,” Vikrant ended with a chuckle.

“What do you both do?” Aslam asked, addressing Angad and Rohan.
“I’m a lawyer” stated Angad.
“I own a chain of restaurants in Mumbai, family business. You all are students?” Rohan asked.
“Ajay is in the air force, Laxman works in a political party and well Sue is a filmmaker but the rest of us are,” Sukhi explained. Laxman visibly grimaced at the revelation.
“Air force?” Vikrant chimed, “That must be an interesting job.”
Ajay only nodded in response. Dj sparked another conversation on something, Ajay was a little too focused on Karan to really pay attention.

Karan downed another drink before standing up, or rather attempting to. He turned around and asked for another drink and grabbed it before making his way to the sofas and practically falling into one next to Rohan. Rohan put an arm around him.

“Karan, tumhe zyada ho gaya hain, ab bus karo,” (Karan, you’ve had too much, now stop) Sonia tried to reach over for the glass but Karan downed it before she could, she shook her head, sighing disapprovingly.
“Arey kaake kya hua?” (Hey bro what happened?) Dj asked playfully, the hint of concern quite present. They stared at him in concern as he laughed, Karan reached forward to grab Rohan’s beer off the table. Rohan was fast enough to interject and move the beer bottle away.
“No” Rohan’s voice was stern, treating Karan like he was a child as he was definitely behaving that way. Karan huffed and pouted angrily.
“Rohan,” he whined, “peene do yaar, aaj main bahut khush hoon! All my friends are here,” (Rohan, let me drink, I’m very happy today! All my friends are here,) he giggled, speech slurred as stretched out his arms, hugging their figures from afar. He watched unfazed as his friends laughed and rolled their eyes at his drunken antics.
Though it was all humorous, Ajay couldn’t help but be slightly concerned for Karan, sure he’d seen Karan drink and be drunk but not to this extent. His speech was slurred and eyes unfocused and he was giggling like a teenage girl in front of her crush, it was very out of character for him.

“We should go, it's getting quite late. Karan come, I’ll drop you home,” Ajay offered his hand to Karan. They had left the car and bikes at the hotel, considering the bar was barely a five minute walk.
“If he goes home like this his father will kill him,” Vikrant interjected, throwing Karan’s arm over his shoulder and pulling him off the sofa. “He can stay with me for tonight.” Karan slumped slightly against him, resting his head on Vikrant’s shoulder and though Vikrant was slightly shorter, he was quite strong and very easily managed to manoeuvre Karan up and out of the place. Ajay just retracted his hand slowly, biting back words and trying his best to hide the anger he felt.

They walked behind the rest of the group and though Ajay was walking with Sonia around him, all he could think of was the conversation brewing between his very drunk friend and the author. Vikrant watched as Karan tilted his head to watch the moon gasping quietly at its beauty, as if he’d not seen one his entire life, cuddling closer to Vikrant as the cool wind hit his cheeks. Vikrant watched as the moonlight gleamed through the trees and clouds and Karan basked in its glory.

Vikrant decided once again that Karan’s eyes alone shone brighter than any moon, sun or star he’d seen. Maybe it was the copious amounts of alcohol he consumed but Vikrant could still see the same innocence he met years ago in those eyes, though it was clear that it was not completely untainted, people had tried hard to ruin it but it fought through.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to drop him off?” Ajay asked, slowing his pace down to meet the two.
“Yeah, don’t worry I’ll make sure your friend is safe and sound throughout the night,” Vikrant reassured, playfully. Ajay smiled politely before waking off, teeth gritted as a sudden guilt consumed him when his eyes fell over his fiancé.
They said their goodbyes as they reached the hotel and Vikrant staggered into the lift and his room, dragging Karan along and placing him as gently as possible onto the bed. He waited for Karan to fall asleep, watching his chest heave up and down ever so slightly and a peaceful smile on his face, but as he tried to get up the drunk boy grabbed onto his arm and groaned, dragging him back onto the bed. Vikrant couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Karan this vibrant and happy. Joy was a good look on him, making him twice as attractive as he usually was, which Vikrant already thought impossible.

Vikrant softly traced the creases of his forehead, fingertips travelling down to his thick eyebrows then closed eyes that adorned thick and long eyelashes. He turned his hand and let his knuckles graze his cheekbones and nose then turned again let his fingertips linger over Karan’s lips.

‘No stop,’ Vikrant thought, ‘He’s drunk, you’re drunk.’
His fingertips left the air above Karan’s lips and moved to his neck, brushing against the exposed skin but his eyes stayed focused on Karan’s plump lips. He leaned over the boy, faces only inches apart, he could smell the alcohol in Karan’s breath and dropped his head slightly and closed his eyes.
‘No, don’t even think about it. This is wrong.’ He was warning himself.
He felt Karan shift under his hold but didn’t open his eyes, he couldn’t believe that he’d let himself do that to Karan. He opened his eyes and met with Karan’s, which fluttered from his lips back to his eyes then closed. Karan reached up and Vikrant bent down, their lips met in the middle. It was a passion filled kiss and they moved together but nothing about it felt sexual, it was pure, it held the same innocence and love they did for each other in their younger years. They pulled apart, out of breath, tears running down their faces as they smiled at each other revelling in this moment.

“Creep” Karan muttered as he rolled over, referring to how Vikrant had been examining his every feature only a moment or so before. Vikrant chuckled and collapsed into the space next to Karan, wrapping an arm around him, though they were happy in this moment and this time they knew as morning came they would have to return to their lives, and this moment would only be a passing memory.

They both wished that morning would never come and this night would be never ending.

Chapter Text

It was a little past 6 am, or that was what the clock in the room had said. The first rays of sun were gleaming through a crack in the curtains of the suite’s bedroom. Bits of the white sheets were dyed a dull merigold hue as the sun hit them. The chirpings from a flock of birds on a nearby tree managed to stir Vikrant into consciousness, a state where sleep clouded his eyes but he looked past it and he could feel the cool air conditioner blow softly through his hair but the rush of the hotel workers and public outside the door seemed to be distant. Vikrant shifted slightly, stopping as the sight before him took his breath away. Karan lay there, now facing him and Vikrant studied him yet again. His lips were ever so slightly apart, face relaxed, eyelashes brushed the tops of his cheekbones and the scraps of light made his complexion warmer, making him look like an angel given to this earth from the highest existing entity. Vikrant’s heavy eyelids fluttered close again, as the silence lulled him back to sleep.

Half past 6 and Karan was in a half-conscious state. The only thing he could truly process was the figure laid out in front of him. Vikrant’s chest heaved and the corners of his lips turned slightly upwards. The rough stubble which hid the dimples when he smiled and his once curly hair now lay in faltered lines, shaping the sun kissed face as the side of his long, sharp nose rubbed against the white pillows. His chin was titled ecuntating the sharpness in his jaw and his clothes were disheveled leaving his collarbone exposed and his strong arm stayed wrapped around Karan’s waist. The rays of the sun grew stronger by the second and cut through the translucent curtains, Vikrant glowed in the morning sun. To Karan it had seemed as though the man had been sculpted by the gods themselves and given as a gift to this undeserving world. 

Karan’s eyes wandered over the scene before him.

“Who’s the creep now?” Vikrant’s groggy morning voice interrupted his analysis of the man.  

“Your hand’s nearly on my arse so it’s still you,” Karan retorted, moving to get out of bed.

“Stay” Vikrant moaned, tightening his grip on Karan’s waist. Karan then realised how much muscle Vikrant had truly put on, he struggled under the man's arm eventually giving into the embrace. Vikrant pulled him in closer, ducking down to nestle his head into Karan’s chest, inhaling his scent and appreciating his presence, his ruffled hair tickling the tip of Karan's nose as the other man completely melted into him, moulding their bodies into each other. Then, all of a sudden Vikrant was the strange, taller, scrawny, curly haired boy Karan had met years ago.

1998

“Karan, I don’t wish to leave you here, I really don’t but I can’t leave you at the house alone and if i take you to all my meetings then you’ll miss so much school and I don’t want you to fall behind in your studies either” Rajnath Singhania mumbled on as Karan sat in the backseat of the white mitsubishi lancer, tuning in and out of his father’s reasonings, scratching nervously at the seat or the exposed skin of his leg.

“It’s okay papa. I understand,” Karan replied when he’d stopped hearing his father’s deep voice. It had been only the second time since Karan had been in a car since the accident last year, he was beyond nervous and the three hour journey after the tiring train ride felt hours longer than reality and his father kept glancing back from the passenger seat to watch his son worriedly. 

When they reached the boarding school, Karan’s new school now, they walked out around the campus and Karan was introduced to one of the classes that was going on for his grade, he smiled politely and followed the teacher and the student leading him and his father out of the room. As they toured the outside, Karan’s eyes were set to the trees and hills that surrounded the school noting that it would be the perfect place to sit and listen to some music, maybe even do homework. 

They had finally finished the “tour” and the son and father had been left alone in the grade 9 sleeping area to say their goodbyes. Karan watched fondly as his papa fussed over him and reminded him to take care of himself for the thousandth time that day.

“Papa I’ll be fine. I'm not a child,” Karan interjected his father’s fussing with reassurance. Rajnath just smiled at him and sat next to him, putting an arm around his son.

“I know Karan, my little boy is not so little anymore,” he teased, pulling Karan’s cheeks and earning a groan from the teen. “Papa stop, please.” Kaan chuckled and playfully swatted his fathers hand away. Rajnath sighed as he got up.

“I’ll miss you beta (son). Study well and take care,” he kissed Karan on the forehead and turned to leave.

“Bye Papa,” Karan muttered, upset yet understanding of the situation. As his father disappeared, he huffed into the empty room. Though he expected to keep to himself and focus on studying during his time here he could not help but feel nervous for this new beginning.

As he had promised himself the next day Karan ventured out into the surrounding greenery, they were allowed out into the area before sunset but few kids found the will to leave the sporting area and appreciate the beauty they were constantly surrounded by. He’d managed to find a fairly deserted area and sat on a patch of grass, leaning against a tree. Somehow he’d managed to carry out his Walkman - a gift from his mother, tapes, stationery and schoolwork he needed to catch up on, it wasn’t much considering they were only a week into the semester. 

He put on some music and began to do his work, stopping ever so often to rewind the tape or change it and hummed along quietly.

He changed the tape and picked up his work once again, resting the book in his lap. But just as his pencil touched the paper the song started to play and he froze. He thought he would be able to listen to the song but now he began doubting himself and his strength. The lyrics though very familiar seemed foreign in these new circumstances and Karan did not think himself capable to interpret them as he once used to. The lyrics started.

“Taaron ka mela bharaa hai

(The fair is full of stars)

Gagan mein

(In the sky)

Tu hai akela

(You are alone)

Akela

(Alone) 

Kaagaz ka sapna

(The dream of the papers)

Khila hai chaman mein

(Is open in the garden)

Koi na apna

(No one’s own)

Na apnaa

(Not yours)

Na apnaa

(Not yours)

Peena hai aansoo

(I have to drink tears)

Jeena hai aansoo

(There are tears to live)-”

Karan inhaled sharply, surprised as his earphones were pulled out. His eyes met unfamiliar brown ones staring at him in confusion. A moment engraved very differently in the two minds. Karan was annoyed that a moment of grieving- not that he would ever call it that, was so rudely disturbed and for the boy staring at him this was a moment to shoo away a junior from his spot.

“You’re in our spot.” The boy stated, Karan peered over the boy's shoulder to see two other boys behind him, taller than the one already towering over him waiting with their arms crossed over their chests.

“I don’t see your name written here,” he retorted, sighing when the boy looked back at the other two. “I’m sorry, I’ll just leave.” Karan apologised, remembering his mother’s words about being kind and his father’s lecture on not starting any trouble. 

“Stay.” This time it was a female’s voice, Karan freaked out at the thought of gaining a teacher’s attention but it was only another student. She stepped forward and flicked the boy’s forehead. 

“I’m sorry,” she started. “These idiots don’t know how to be civil. I’m Sunaina by the way. Kajal ma’am’s daughter,” she introduced herself with a sweet smile, a navy blue headband matching the school’s tie pulled her hair back, her clothes ironed to perfection.

“Karan” he returned her smile albeit half heartedly. She glanced over at the boys behind her, giving them a pointed look. They groaned and rolled their eyes but stepped forward and one by one introduced themselves. That’s how Karan met Angad, Rohan and Vikrant. 

“You’re the new boy right?” Angad asked. Karan nodded shyly. “It’s a little weird that you’re starting two weeks after school has already started.” Angad noted, shrugging.

“What are you listening to?” Rohan asked, motioning to his labelled cassettes. Karan gave them a nod of permission to go through them. They smiled like children in candy stores as they found some music which they themselves were very fond of as they rummaged through the few cassettes he had bought out. 

“I’m a little disappointed at the lack of ABBA music but I guess ‘Casablanca’ makes up for it,” Sunaina pointed out. Karan chuckled awkwardly.

“I have more cassettes in my room, I can bring them another time if you’d like” he suggested. They nodded eagerly.

This was the start of a beautiful friendship. 

Karan soon found out they weren’t the most loved people in the institution but he couldn’t care less. He dismissed the weird looks and stereotypical taunts from other students. Though they were his seniors, only by a year, he managed to fit into their strange puzzle.

 They would call him out in the middle of the night, sneaking him out through a back gate which was quite low and go out to see movies. They got him his first fake ID, first cigarette and first drink of booze. Most of all they provided a distraction from his grief, admittedly not the best way to heal but it was something. But they cared enough to notice Karan and were sensitive enough to not pry. If Karan had avoided a meal or more that day they would sneak in some extra snacks for him, they’d find out that he was a sucker for chocolate, when he would zone out of their conversation they would bring him back with a joke and leave funny notes in his textbooks if he woke up moody. They even snuck him into the music rooms during lunch time and would prance around performing and practicing their music , hoping it would cheer him up. Vikrant would read him some of the beautiful poetry that he’d written, Sunaina and Angad would recite and perform Shakespeare sonnets no one understood except themselves, Rohan was a history freak and he would indulge them in wonderful facts and stories and Karan would pick up the guitar and gladly adhere to Sunaina’s millions of requests. Karan had grown quite fond of Vikrant’s writings, many times they would hide away to have Vikrant read aloud his works and Vikrant found himself more inspired to write these days, a strange force pushing him to write about beauty and love, things he usually strayed from. It reminded Karan of his mother reading classic pieces of literature and sharing her love of books with him. The others would tease them, calling them a ‘lovesick couple’ unable to pry themselves away from each other. Vikrant would hide pages of writings in Karan’s belongings, hoping he would find them and Karan would have the biggest smile as he did, though the acts elicited homophobic slurs, taunts directed to Karan from other boys. Karan couldn’t help that Vikrant and he were dangerously affectionate towards each other.

They had all even found the courage to confide in each other. It was a Saturday, the half day of classes had finished and Karan sat alone in the back of the library, a place his friends, in fact many did not frequent. There were only two students in the library apart from him and they sat on the other end of the room, not in view of the boy. Karan sat cross legged in a corner, covered by a towering bookshelf and had a book in his lap and in that book lay a photograph of his mother, father and himself. His family. He could not focus on his classes that day nor did he wish to see anyone, a quite difficult task when in an environment of nosy teenage boys that sneer at everything. Tears threatened to spill but he didn’t allow them to, so they stayed buried within his eyes and blurred the images of a fond memory. It was Sunaina that had found him about an hour after classes had finished.

“Hey, who are you hiding from?” she whispered, taken back when he looked up at her, big eyes full of unshed tears. Her posture and expression softened and she took a seat next to him, examining the picture in the book.

“You miss them?” she asked. He nodded, not revealing the whole truth. They sat in a comfortable silence for about ten minutes before the boys stormed in, causing an outburst from the old librarian. It had taken the boys a moment to really read the room but apologised as they did and quietly sat down, forming a small circle on the carpeted floor.

“You’re like a perfect mix of your parents,” she stated, resting her chin on his shoulder.

“Homesickness is normal,” Rohan chimed in. “I’ve been in boarding school since I can remember and I still feel homesick sometimes. Both my parents are in the army so I barely see them but being here makes you cherish them even more.” The silence settled back in.

They played with the carpet on the ground and sighes, Karan ran his fingers over his mother’s smiling figure before speaking up.

“My Ma, she um” he struggled, swallowing a cry he spoke “She died in a car accident last year. I- I was in the car, I saw her take her last breath.” he finished with great difficulty and bowed his head at the small gasps of shock. Karan sighed as four sets of arms wrapped around him and he was surrounded by a comforting warmth. They reluctantly pulled back after a few minutes.

“I’m sorry Chotte,” Angad voiced his condolences. “My Grandmother died two years ago, my mum still cries sometimes. She helped raise me.”

“My Grandpa has dementia, we were very close and now he can’t remember me. He always thinks I’m mumma, and I’ve never met any of my other grandparents” Sunaina revealed. 

“I’m always afraid that my parents won’t come back and I wish that at least one of them would just stay and take over my Grandpa’s restaurants. It's less dangerous,” Rohan slumped forward, sighing as he thought of his parents. The silence settled in a little heavier this time, everyone rather unsure of how to comfort the others and let them know they weren't alone. They half-expected Vikrant to speak up but didn’t want to pressure him. After what had felt like eons but were a few minutes Vikrant sucked in a breath and spoke up.

“I didn’t know either of my parents, Ma died in childbirth and Dad when I was three. I feel like I don’t have the right to miss them. I love my uncle and aunty but I wish I knew my parents,” Vikrant confessed. Their silence was consoling, a way to allow themselves to grieve their losses.

“Well it’s nice to know that we’re all a little messed up na?” Angad chuckled. They burst into laughter earning a hush from the librarian. 

But soon the school year had come to an end and Karan was back home. He had never felt more suffocated yet alone, his father continued to distance himself. Karan didn’t think it was intentional, any man would be sullen and detached after losing the love he fought so hard for. Karan didn’t want to burden him with his own grief so he busied himself, over the break he learnt to drive from Ram Uncle their driver and his father had brought him a camcorder to muck around with. He found little things to fill the emptiness in his house. 

Karan was, for the first time ever, excited to go back to school, he wanted to escape the emptiness that filled his house. This year his senior friends would have a dorm room to themselves, a privilege reserved for students in grade 11 and 12. When he returned a day before classes started he found them in their usual hiding spot behind the school, Angad chasing around the others, cheeky grins on their faces.

“Ho kya raha hain yahaan?” (what’s going on here?) he yelled to gain their attention. They tackled him into a rough embrace.

“Angad’s in love!” Sunaina stated in a sing-song voice. She handed Karan a picture of a girl with long hair braided to the side adorning a lilac suit. Angad hid his face in embarrassment as the others continued to tease him. 

“So, how does it feel?” Karan asked, scooching closer to Angad as they sat on the grass. 

“What?” Angad asked.

“How does it feel to be in love?” Karan repeated, Angad smiled a little twinkle visible in his grey eyes.

“You really want to know?” Karan nodded eagerly. Angad sighed and let out a hearty chuckle before answering. “In the beginning it’s all butterflies and it makes your heart beat really fast but soon with time all you feel is peace, like when I’m with Preeti all I feel is peace and every problem seems small. It’s like nothing else in the world matters anymore.”

“Is it like what they show in the movies? Does everything happen in slow motion? Do violins play in your head?” Sunaina asked, eagerly moving forward.

“No idiot, it’s better than the movies,” Angad began to explain in more detail. Vikrant’s heart started to beat faster and faster as he ran his fingers through his curls, he’d felt all of this and so much more.

He looked over at Karan, a similar expression graced his face but his eyes stayed focused on the grass beneath them. Vikrant knew or at least had a strong feeling that Karan had felt all he was feeling too. 

‘Is this love?’ Vikrant asked himself. ‘But with a male? That’s wrong. But it’s everything Angad is saying and what all the romance novels say too, it must be love. There is no other explanation.’ 

His thoughts were interrupted by a low voice.

“Hey fags” the voice boomed. Sniggering from behind the voice came.

“Bugger off Abhi!” Sunaina shot back, rolling her eyes. Karan had heard of Abhi and seen him around, the teachers loved him but the students had a completely different perception. Karan heard from Vikrant that the year before Karan joined Abhi and his posy had harassed two students, the police were called but somehow (with Abhi’s dad’s money) they managed to get out of it but the two students left. Karan had always wondered what they did to drive out students from the school. Suddenly Abhi locked eyes with Karan, who looked away, uncomfortable and unsure whether he should be scared or disgusted.

“Hey you! Pretty boy, I’ve not seen you around in classes, why is that?” Abhi’s voice was sickly sweet, almost taunting them. 

“I’m only in tenth,” Karan said, not maintaining eye contact. Vikrant huffed angrily.

“Leave him alone Abhi” he ordered through gritted teeth. Abhi scoffed and turned to lock eyes with Vikrant, stepping over the others to trap Vikrant between himself and the tree he was leant against till their faces were only inches apart. It reminded Karan of how he’d first met Vikrant except he had taken Karan’s place and Abhi took Vikrant’s. But it was different, Vikrant’s eyes had pure disgust in them and Abhi was unreadable, it was an emotion Karan hadn’t quite witnessed or ever felt. He didn’t understand it.

“Or what? Listen Viku,” he spat “I think it’s really cute that you want to protect your new boyfriend but I’m sure he can speak for himself” he ended, smiling. The others sighed in relief as he walked away, his posy following closely behind.

Unfortunately for them his torment didn’t stop there.

After classes the next day, Karan made his way to the back of the school, and out to the grassy area they usually sat at to find Vikrant sitting there alone and staring off into the distance. Karan elbowed him in the ribs softly as he sat down, then nodded to ask him what he was thinking. Vikrant scooted closer to him and Karan felt his heart beat speed up.

“I couldn’t sleep last night,” Vikrant started, voice barely above a whisper. “I was thinking about what Angad was saying about love and all. Karan,” he sighed, putting his hand atop Karan’s, which was resting on his knee. Karan glanced at where they were touching. “I think I know what he’s saying. I’m sure I’ve felt it, the peace and rush, everything. I feel it with a person.” Vikrant used his other hand to lift Karan’s head and lock eyes with him but quickly retracted it after he did. Karan noted that he was blushing and his eyes held affection.

‘No,’ Karan thought. ‘Don’t keep your hopes up, let him finish’

“Karan,” he started again. “It’s you. You’re the person I feel it with,” Karan felt a wave of relief wash over him and he opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by a panicked Vikrant.

“Listen, if you don’t feel the same way I understand but I also know you feel the same way but I guess what I’m trying to say is I don’t want to overwhelm you. You’re still young and I understand but please whatever your decision is I don’t want this to ruin our friend-” Karan placed his lips on Vikrant’s cheek, shocking him into silence. Karan laughed fondly as Vikrant’s jaw dropped and his mouth formed an ‘O’ shape. Slowly his lips curled into the largest smile possible and Karan tucked a few loose strands of Vikrant’s hair behind his ear. 

“Probably shouldn't do things like that out here,” Karan chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. Vikrant nodded in agreement, then he stood up and grabbed Karan’s hand and led him through the halls, dropping his hand when other students were nearby and finally into his dorm room. Luckily they got to pick roommates and Angad was in the drama club with Sunaina and Rohan was in the literature club, they all did only band and philosophy club together.

“I’m not a child you know,” Karan stated. Vikramt furrowed his brows in confusion. “When we were sitting you called me young. Just because I’m younger and only by a year mind you, doesn’t mean I’m a child,” Karan explained. Vikrant just chuckled and closed the door behind him, taking a seat on one of the beds he patted the area next to him motioning Karan to sit. 

“Don’t worry, I just wanted to talk openly without the chance of other people hearing,” Vikrant reassured, sensing Karan’s tension at their isolation. 

“So this is a thing now huh? Us?” Karan asked, blushing and examining the room.

“Yeah I guess it is,” Vikrant kept his gaze on Karan, not wanting this moment to end.

“‘It’s a nice room, for a school dorm,” Karan muttered, finally taking a seat. In all honesty Vikrant hated the room but in this moment it wasn’t too bad.

Their first kiss was a few weeks into the semester, they had run into a bathroom stall to hide from one of the watchmen, this particular one strongly disliked them and had almost caught them trying to sneak out. They were pressed against each other, suppressing giggles and Karan’s head dropped into Vikrant’s mustard wool clad chest. They could finally breathe as the watchmen walked away from them and toppled out of the stall landing near a window in fits of laughter. 

“I think Ang and Ro are in the music room, let’s go,” Karan was about to walk away as Vikrant grabbed his wrist and pulled him back to the window.

“Kya hua?” (What happened?)  Karan asked.

“Full moon,” Vikrant pointed to the moon, gleaming brightly from far away above the trees. He softly tugged Karan back into the low light of the moon and Karan smiled fondly at it. Vikrant watched Karan as he watched the moon with big hopeful eyes. Vikrant decided that Karan’s eyes alone shone brighter than any moon, sun or star he’d seen. Karan blushed furiously as he caught Vikrant staring, Vikrant shuffled closer and took Karan’s face into his hands.

“Chaudhvin ka chand ho, ya aaftaab ho, jo bhi ho tum Khuda ki kasam, lajawab ho,” (Are you the full moon, or the sun? Whatever you are, I swear to God, you are beyond compare! -lyrics to an old hindi song) he whispered and Karan smirked.

“You are so melodramatic Viku!” he giggled but continued to look into his caramel eyes. 

“Can I kiss you?” Vikrant whispered. Karan played with the hem of his grey, knitted sweater before nodding. 

Karan didn’t sit around imagining things but this was not what he expected, he’d always thought his first kiss would be something straight out of a movie with rain, fireworks in a beautiful field of sunflowers but not in a unpleasantly smelly toilet in his school. The kiss itself however was better than any feeling in the world, sure he had to reach upwards a little and it was wet but still very very pleasant. He could feel tiny little sparks in all the places his skin touched Vikrant’s and a strange warmth engulfed him. They chuckled breathlessly as they parted and held hands as they snuck back to the dorm, Karan seemed to bunk there with them more often than not.

The year had gone by smoothly, which was a surprise considering trouble seemed to find the group. Karan and Vikrant’s little touches, winks and gestures went unseen for the most part and they always seemed to have a good cover up, thankfully. The holidays between his 10th and 11th year were too long for Karan’s liking, he spent most of it looking over the things Vikrant had written for him or emailing and calling Vikrant and some of it practicing driving and documenting nature. Vikrant would graduate this year and leave Karan behind at that godforsaken school for a whole year so he wanted to spend as much time together as possible.  

A few weeks into school, after classes for the day and dinner had finished and people were retiring to their dorms, Karan made his way through a crowded corridor. Suddenly he was dragged by his arm and collar into an empty room. Karan immediately recognised the sharp face, Abhi. He knew this was not going to end well, this room had not been used in years. Karan was roughly pushed onto the floor and Abhi turned back to lock the door. Before Karan got the chance to open his mouth Abhi landed a punch to his jaw and a kick to his gut causing Karan’s skinny figure to curl up in itself in immense pain. Abhi grabbed him by the collar again.

“Listen here you little shit,” he spat. “Whatever the fuck is going on between you and your faggot boyfriend needs to end. Now.” Karan was shocked that he knew but stood his ground.

“Fuck you Abhi!” he responded, wiping droplets of blood off his chin. The statement earned him a great deal of punches and kicks to his whole body and rather crude statements thrown his way. One particular phrase caught his ear though, he was thankful it did.

“You’re not good enough for Vikrant! You will never be!” Abhi’s voice boomed through the room between the beating he was giving and Karan froze. So did Abhi. Karan scoffed.

“And you are?” Karan questioned, voice strong though he was sure he would bleed out. “Take a good look at yourself Mr Abhi Sinha and ask yourself, will Vikrant, an angel like man, want a cruel, spineless bully like you?” Karan smirked sensing that he was getting on Abhi’s nerves. With one last punch, Abhi threw Karan farther into the classroom and walked out.

Karan managed to stagger to his friends’ room and was met immediately with three concerned boys leading him to a bed. They helped with his wounds, luckily Rohan had a first aid kit under his bed to avoid the school nurses and they gave Karan some water.

“It was that asshole Abhi wasn’t it? Answer me! Chhote?” Angad questioned, both rage and concern evident in his voice. Rohan handed Karan some chocolate, hoping it would cheer him up a little. Karan took it gratefully, his body had almost given out in the short walk to this room.

“I’m going to kill him,” Angad vowed through gritted teeth. Karan winced as Rohan applied some disinfectant to the wounds and his grip on Vikrant’s hand tightened. Rohan muttered an apology.

“No,” Karan replied as sternly as he could through a wince. “He’s not worth it Angs, trust me.” Angad just sighed disappointedly, and continued to mumble in rage.

Karan had his own dorm room now but he usually slept in his friends’ room, in Vikrant’s bed. Karan’s dorm mates were nice but he’d rather be here. When he was definite that Rohan and Angad were asleep he shuffled closer to Vikrant, who was unsurprisingly awake, too concerned to sleep. Karan groaned as he moved and Vikrant rubbed comforting circles on his arm.

“Viku? Can I ask you something?” Vikrant hummed in response.

“Did something happen between you and Abhi?” there was a short pause of silence before Karan spoke again. “You don’t have to answer.”

The silence that followed was long and Karan thought that Vikrant was not going to answer, he’d almost given up on his significant other until Vikrant sighed into the night.

“It was a mistake,” and that was all he said.

The following weeks were filled with worry and tension. Sunaina had taken every opportunity to glare and send daggers with her eyes to the boy that had assaulted her friend. If looks could kill then Vikrant would have been dead over a billion times by now and Sunaina would be in jail for murder, Angad, Rohan and Vikrant would be too. Abhi refused to even look at Karan but everytime they accidentally caught each other’s eye, either in the corridors or the play fields surrounding the buildings, Karan would be sure to send him a sinister smirk, reminding him that he knew his secret.

Just as Karan and his friends had thought that things were better they had taken a turn for the worse. Much much worse.

Karan and Vikrant were running around trees, laughing as they made fun of each other. Without warning, Vikrant caught up to Karan and trapped him against a tree, cautiously enough to not hurt either of them. An out of breath Karan let out a (manly) squeal and continued to giggle.

“Hi” Karan chucked, breathlessly.

“Hi” Vikrant responded, voice lower than usual and as Karan read his eyes he saw an unfamiliarly familiar expression. Then it struck him, he’d seen it in Abhi, when he had Vikrant trapped against a tree, somewhat resembling this current situation. Lust. But in Vikrant’s eyes it presented itself much more beautifully in a sense that there was no greed or obsessive ulterior motive behind it but there was love, something that seemed to lack in Abhi. Vikrant leaned down to kiss him, it was like no other kiss they’d ever shared. There was no hesitation, just pure passion and love. Karan wrapped his arms around Vikrant’s neck and Vikrant pushed his body against Karan’s, grinding their hips together. Karan felt every inch of himself burning, a foreign sensation took over him and he could feel a knot in his stomach as Vikrant’s hands moved down his body. Karan felt completely vulnerable as he whimpered, but strangely the vulnerability wasn’t clouded with fear as he trusted Vikrant completely. Karan was too far gone to properly register anything else but it seemed that Vikrant was somehow, miraculously still able to use his senses for things beyond themselves.

“Shit! Fuck!” Vikrant swore, pushing himself off of his lover.

“Kya hua?” (What happened?) Karan asked, disappointed at the sudden lack of contact. 

“Tumne suna nahi?” (You didn’t hear?) Karan shook his head no to Vikrant’s question.

“There was a camera sound and then someone ran. Someone saw us!” Vikrant explained. Karan gasped, head hitting the tree as he groaned in realisation.

“We’re fucked!” they stated in unison. Vikrant had tried to chase the unknown photographer but was a little too late and the person had taken off. 

“We have to maintain some distance for a while okay? Just until we can figure out who has the picture,” Vikrant cupped Karan’s cheeks as he explained. Karan, though disappointed and anxious and wanting nothing more to hold Vikrant and calm himself down, understood the gravity of the situation and took off before Vikrant into his own dorm room. 

The following few weeks were suspiciously, almost terrifyingly calm. Karan and Vikrant tried their hardest to maintain as much distance as they could. Vikrant missed their touches and secretive smiles and all the weird pet names Karan had come up with for him and from Karan’s vacant eyes he could make out that Karan missed it all too. 

The sun had set on a calm, uneventful Thursday evening, a little over four weeks after the photograph  incident.  Karan knew Angad and Rohan would be off at drama and literature club respectively so he made his way to Vikrant’s room, thinking now would be safe enough since nothing had happened for a while. Karan found the door closed but as he tried to open it, it wouldn’t budge. The school dorms did not have locks. He pushed harder and harder but to no avail. He banged his closed fists on the door, yelling over and over again for Vikrant and ignoring the odd looks he got. After 10 minutes he’d given up and stood in front of the door, ear pressed against it and contemplating whether a teacher should be summoned. As he’d gotten tired of waiting at the door and was just about to leave and call an adult, the door swung open and he toppled into a larger figure. Abhi. Karan stood outside the room and his concern for Vikrant grew as he struggled to see past Abhi’s well built figure. He ignored Abhi’s devilish smirk and tried to walk past him but before he could, Abhi roughly slammed him into the wall, his disgustingly smug smirk still plastered on his face, Karan wanted nothing more than to punch it off. Karan expected Abhi to swear or even spit at him but nothing of the sort happened, as he examined Abhi he noticed that his clothes and hair were disheveled, leaving his collarbones and neck exposed as his blue tie hung rather loosely and the top few buttons of his white shirt were not done up. Abhi laughed mockingly at Karan, he rolled his eyes, not wanting to deal with Abhi’s bullshit right now. Abhi retreated one of the arms holding Karan back and took something out of his back pocket. It was a photograph, it was THE photograph. Karan gulped anxiously and Abhi leant down till his lips were lingering near Karan’s ear, his hot breath making Karan writhe in discomfort.

“Tell you boyfriend I have copies,” Abhi whispered, shoving the picture into Karan’s chest then finally letting him go and walking away, into his own dorm.

Karan rushed into Vikrant’s room, closing the door behind him. Vikrant was lying on his bed, only in his black boxers. He slept facing the wall and the blanket barely covered his body and he was yet to notice or acknowledge Karan’s presence. 

“Viku?” Karan called out to him softly as he slowly inched towards the bed.

“Go away.” his voice was low but firm and he’d sounded like a rock had been stuck in his throat. He was crying. Karan’s eyes skimmed over the figure on the bed, a dark stain on the white sheets caught his eyes. It was blood, mixed with another translucent, white substance, Karan trailed the blood finding it the be dripping out of the edge of Vikrant’s only article of clothing, the beginning of ugly, purple bruises in the shape of hands were evident on the soft skin of his hips and purple bruises on the side of his neck and trailing down his body.

“You’re bleeding, let me help. Please!” Karan pleaded, standing merely a foot away from the bed, Vikrant quickly shuffled to cover himself up and ignored the pain shooting up his spine. He could hear and feel Vikrant suppressing his sobs.

“Leave Karan.” 

Karan hadn’t registered the situation completely, leaving him confused as took a seat on Angad’s bed. Unsure of what to do he began examining the picture in his hand, he remembers the moment so clearly, his arms wrapped around Vikrant, pulling him as close as possible, lips and bodies moving in sync, it had felt like a sacred act but this picture, even to look at it had felt blasphemous, almost dirty to hold. The picture had taken spirituality out of the moment, it ruined it. It ruined everything. 

“Get out Karan.” Vikrant spat, anger coursing through his veins yet he refused to turn around and look at Karan. Karan knew Vikrant’s anger was not directed at him but he didn’t want to upset him further so he kept the picture on Vikrant’s pillow, near his head and left without another word. As he closed the door he could hear Vikrant’s heart wrenching sobs, Karan’s own heart tugged and begged him to go inside and comfort his lover but his mind knew better and he left, wiping at the tears in his own eyes.

That night Karan could not fall asleep, he lay awake in his bed, staring at the blank ceiling trying to make sense of the scene, he eventually did. As he did, he’d wished he hadn’t or that the realisation had come earlier, early enough to track Abhi down and beat him to a pulp.

The next day, Karan managed to get out of class for a few minutes and venture up to Vikrant’s dorm only to find him in the same position as the night before but this time he was showered and fresh clothes on. Karan cleared his throat hoping it would elicit a reaction or acknowledgement from Vikrant, it didn’t.

“Angs told me you aren’t feeling well. Eat something, please, you’ll feel better.” Karan pleaded, leaving a cheese toastie, Vikrant’s favourite breakfast which he managed to hide under his shirt and bottle of water on his bedside table before returning to class.

Vikrant didn’t return to classes for another day, when he did he truly wasn’t himself. The first few days everyone just thought that he may still be feeling a little run down or sick but as it went on his friends could tell there was something more. Karan didn’t know why Vikrant was into writing, he was such a good actor that should be his profession instead. 

“Oye losers!” Abhi called out to them one day as the five were making their way back to the building for dinner time. Rohan wrapped an arm around Sunaina’s shoulders.

“Ignore him,” Sunaina whispered. But Abhi kept taunting them and calling out to them, determined to get on their nerves with his overused insults.

“Hey Rohan! How many times do you give it to the girl in a week? Be a bro and send her to our room sometimes!” Abhi shouted, earning the attention of other students in the field. Karan did not want to start trouble, it was nearing the end of the school year and all he wanted was to spend every breathing moment with them. He loved them so he couldn’t stand hearing someone hurl such vile and disgusting insults at them.

“Shut the fuck up Abhi!” Karan yelled, turning to face him. Abhi scoffed.

“Or what? You’ll call daddy on me? Or your boyfriend?” Abhi asked, mockingly causing an eruption of laughter from his clique. Karan rolled his eyes.

“Unlike you some of us don’t need to rush to daddy whenever we have a minor inconvenience,” Karan shot back with a smug smirk. 

“Karan let’s go!” Sunaina tried to pull Karan back but Karan resisted.

“Wait Naina, this just got interesting,” he sent her a reassuring look before turning to Abhi.

“Better watch your mouth Singhania or I’ll punch your teeth in. Like I did just a few weeks ago,” Abhi warned, grinding his teeth together and hands balled up into fists. Karan furrowed his brows and pretended to be thinking and then come to sudden realisation.

“Oh!” he started. “You mean the same day you confessed your undying love for Vikrant, a boy.” A flare of anger was evident in Abhi’s eyes. The gasps echoed through the field.

“Shut up” Abhi ordered through gritted teeth.

“What? Too scared to tell your friends that you’re anything but straight?” Karan spat.

“Karan stop,” Vikrant commanded but Karan ignored him, he could feel the anxiousness in all four of his friends as he and Abhi stared threateningly at each other. 

“Meethe ho na tum? Bol do. Just admit it Abhi!” (You’re sweet {meetha/meethe-derogatory term for gay people} aren’t you? Say it. Just admit it Abhi!) Karan probed, pushing Abhi over the edge. Abhi threw the first punch, but of course no teacher would see that. Karan fell to the ground but the smirk remained on his face. Angad, Rohan and Vikrant were too shocked to help, but Sunaina, the fierce fighter that she is, attempted to intervene only to be pushed back by a teacher, luckily for her it seemed like she was trying to break the fight rather than contribute. Abhi and Karan were interviewed separately by the teacher that had caught them, Janaki ma’am. She was strict and uptight, she favoured the sporty kids due to her nauseating and very very obvious crush on the PT teacher, there was no doubt that she would side with Abhi. 

He made his way to his own room and to his hrrible luck Vikrant was standing outside, waiting for him. Arms crossed over his chest, he leaned against the wall, he led Karan into an empty room.

“What is wrong with you?” he questioned, stressing the word “wrong”. Karan stared at the ground in shame. 

“Karan, he has the picture, you know that!” Karan tried to apologise but Vikrant would not give him the chance. 

“He’s cruel and vile, everyone knows that! Why couldn’t you just keep your mouth shut for once! If that picture is spread the-” Vikrant got cut off.

“I know Vikrant! I’m scared too but I couldn’t stand to hear those things being said about Naina,” Karan interjected, tired and not wanting to fight.

“We heard it too! But we controlled ourselves. He was trying to get a reaction out of us. He’s an ass Karan, he’ll do anything to get his way,” Vikrant explained, huffing in frustration.

“You didn’t think to ever give him a taste of his own medicine? I didn’t think okay? All of it made me very angry and sometimes I can’t control it. I’m sorry,” Karan apologised, trying to put an end to this fight, his eyes were already clouded with tears. Vikrant shook his head, disappointedly.

“No Karan, you don’t get it. You don’t know my life past those gates, if my family finds out then I’m done for. Daddy dearest won’t do anything to you, a slap on the wrist is what you’ll get at most. I just, I expected better from you Karan,” the words tugged at Karan’s heart but what came next out of Vikrant’s mouth was something he did not expect.

“I’m sorry, I can’t do this. You’re on your own now Singhania,” Vikrant pushed past Karan and left, leaving him to process it all. Karan could hear his own heart shatter and the millions of pieces falling to the ground, never to be truly picked up. Karan didn’t sleep that night, he couldn’t.

By the morning the news and the photo had been spread all throughout the school, Karan was cornered when he was moving from his first class to his second.

“I told you that I’d ruin you didn’t I?” Abhi reminded him before turning away with his followers close behind. Karan picked his belongings off the ground and left for his class. He paid no attention to the taunts, sniggers and remarks from other students. At break time he sat in the library and watched out the window, he watched his friends at the usual spot, laughing and carrying on as if nothing had happened, Karan knew his presence would bring the awkward tension back so he continued to avoid them and he was glad Vikrant had them to protect him and stand by his side. He watched as Abhi and his posy walked by them, very clearly harassing them, he watched as Rohan and Sunaina rushed up to physically fight them but Angad simply used the magic of his words to shoo them away. He stayed cooped up in the library after classes had finished, skipping dinner as he did lunch and breakfast too and very reluctantly made his way back to his dorm. He rolled his eyes as his dorm mates wolf whistled as he walked in, quickly he was shoved back into the door as he closed it, he soon realised there were four other people in the room, he only had two roommates. This game was rigged, he was outnumbered four to one. He struggled and thrashed around as much as he could as they pinned him down and forced a spiked drink down his throat, he didn’t remember what had happened. He was conscious but could not decipher any movement or anything around him.

He woke up to a loud alarm, with a headache, he looked down to see that he was fully clothed but there was a foul taste in his mouth, and his knees and jaw ached and were definitely bruised. He didn’t want to think of what happened though he had a vague idea, he looked into the mirror to see that his lips were swollen and the boys had gifted him with a black eye.

That afternoon he and Vikrant were summoned to the principal’s office. They sat outside his office in cushioned chairs, their anxiety hitting a new peak as Abhi exited the room. Vikrant sat far from Karan with his head turned away. As they stood in front of the principal, the picture was placed on the table. The principal ran a hand over the folds of her cream saree, the ones that were pinned to her shoulder, she sighed deeply before speaking.

“I know neither of you will tell me the story if I ask you to explain, though it seems self-explanatory.” She leaned forward and folded her hands together atop the table. 

“This is the first time anything like this has ever happened at this school,” her smile was somewhat genuine, not a trace of mockery. She relaxed slightly before leaning back again.

“This,” she said pointing to the picture, “I’m sure you know that it’s considered illegal, but the school board does not want us to be involved in any more legal issues. Action will not be taken unless either of you or your families would want to,” Both the boys shook their heads to signal that they too did not want any legal action to be taken.

“Mr Lal, you’re very close to graduating so all we’ve done is sent a warning under indecent behaviour. Don’t worry you will graduate. You can go but keep in mind to be careful next time,” she let him go with a small smile. Karan watched Vikrant leave, Vikrant had not even looked at Karan once. Vikrant let out a sigh as he walked back to his class, relieved that he would not have to explain anything to his family, he began to formulate a lie to feed them.

Meanwhile, in the principal’s office, the principal had motioned Karan to take a seat, he did very reluctantly. She offered him chocolate and Karan knew instantly that something was wrong.

“Mr Singhania,” she started with a sigh. “Your father called, unfortunately I was not in the office at the time, I was at a meeting so I couldn’t handle the situation. It was very wrongly and grossly transferred to Janaki ma’am instead of a deputy.” Karan closed his eyes for a second and slumped forward unsure of how to react. The principal reached out for the tissues and offered him one, he accepted it gratefully. She waited a moment before continuing.

“Now I’m not meant to say this but that Janaki ma’am can be a little bit of a priss,” Karan let out a watery chuckle at that statement. Her smile grew at his.

“She told him everything. He has informed us that he’ll be coming to see you, he told us not to tell you but I think you ought to be warned.” She spoke softly, her stern façade faltered a little.

“Thank you ma’am,” Karan sniffled. He wasn't crying but he was close to it.

“Karan if this causes a problem or raises any concerns in your household then I need you to inform me, just me, no one else,” his eyebrows furrowed at her offer.

“I’m sorry ma’am but, if you don't mind me asking, why?” he asked, gulping down a cry. She checked that the door was closed from her seat before smiling softly at him.

“The school isn’t obliged to help students in their private life but I truly care for my students and your safety is very important to me. Karan this is again something I shouldn’t be telling you but there’s a reason I’m unmarried, have confidence and strength. It will be fine.” She whispered very carefully to him and offered him chocolate another time before letting him go. He walked anxiously back to his classes, though his principal’s words helped a little he couldn’t help but be nervous to see his father. Karan was truly unsure of how he would react. The boys around him taking every opportunity to grope and harass him wasn’t helping his case, he tried to ignore it, he really did but he felt their hands linger even after they’d let go. He felt disgusted by himself. He would take out the anger on himself, using the blades of his pencil sharpeners to paint his thighs red.

Karan pretended to be shocked as he stood in front of his dad, he tried to make conversation and divert his attention but Rajnath was having none of it, he got straight to the point. It was break time, all the students were outside, Karan was standing with his father in an empty corridor, a few feet away from the foyer where they had just met. They spoke in hushed tones and Rajnaths’s voice emitted anger. Karan was disappointed by his father’s reaction. 

“You will be continuing the rest of your education in Delhi, you’re old enough to look after yourself now. I send you here to study Karan, so you can grow and be your own man and this is what you’re doing?” Rajnath shook his head, scoffing with a bitter laugh.

“Papa It’s not what you think,” he tried reasoning but it led nowhere. “I’m sorry Papa, it won’t happen again,” Karan promised.

“It better not happen again!” he huffed angrily. “This is not how your mother and I raised you! She would be so disappointed,” he added. Karan lowered his head, his father was wrong.

“Mumma believed in love,” he mumbled, it was barely audible.

“What?” Rajnath had heard him, this was his anger. Karan had genuinely thought his father had not heard so he innocently began to repeat himself.

“I said mumma believed in lo-” Karan was met with a stinging sensation on his cheek before he could complete his sentence. His father, who had never even raised his voice at him, just slapped him. This one slap hurt more than any kick or punch from any other person. Rajnath himself was shocked at his own reaction, he had a hand clamped over his mouth and his eyes were filled with regret. His anger was unreasonable and he’d understood that a little too late.

“Karan, I-I’m sorry I didn’t mea-” Rajnath struggled to form words.

“It’s fine dad,” Karan replied, shifting away from his father’s outstretched hand. Rajnath was just about to say something as the sound of throat clearing was heard, coming from the other end of the corridor. It was Sunaina holding a tray of food.

‘Shit! I hope she wasn’t here too long,’ Karan thought, he didn’t want his dad to be painted in a bad light when this was the first time he’d ever been slapped.

“I’m sorry” she started, her bubbly, infectious smile still plastered on her face. “I hope I’m not disturbing!” she walked further towards them and put the tray down on a nearby bench.

“Not at all!” Rajnath explained, greeting her with a smile.

“I’m Sunaina, you must be Karan’s papa,” she introduced herself. Rajnath nodded.

“He talks so much about his parents.” she states.

“Good things I hope,” Rajnath humors her as Karan just stares at the floor, shifting awkwardly.

After talking a little with Rajnath she turns to Karan and nudges him.

“I’ve not seen you at meals today or yesterday so I got you some food,” she said, voice softening as she looked at his sullen posture. Rajnath cleared his throat.

“Karan where are your manners?” he questioned.

“Sorry, Thank you Sunaina,” Karan replied nonchalantly. Sunaina and Rajnath just sighed.

“It was a pleasure meeting you Mr.Singhania and I’m sorry for disturbing you. I’ll go now. Bye.” She waved goodbye and left, they were silent till she was out of sight.

“You should go Dad, you’ll be late for your flight,” Karan didn’t look up at his dad, not even when Rajnath had hugged him.

“Apni padhai par dhyan dehna aur apna khayal rakhna,” (Focus on your studies and take care of yourself,) Rajnath whispered into the hug. Karan nodded and watched his father’s shoes turn and walk away. He ignored the tray of food and went straight to his dorm room. He collapsed onto the bed and sobbed into the pillow. He wanted to be with his mother.

On the last day of school Karan watched his friends walk across the stage and be applauded for completing their years at this school. He must’ve applauded the most. Sure he’d avoided them as much as he could even if it meant dealing with gross and homophobic teenage boys but he was proud of them. They had been through so much shit and they deserve to get out of here.

Vikrant had still not looked at him, not even when he’d gone to congratulate them. As Karan crept away to the gates to leave this life behind, he turned around to take one last look at Vikrant. Karan knew that Vikrant knew that Karan was staring right at him, but he dared not turn and meet eyes. It was ironic, the poet was making the lovers’ choice and the lover was making the poets’.

Karan and Vikrant sat across each other at the dining table of the suite. Vikrant had managed to convince him to stay for breakfast at least. They reminisce some more as they munched on muffins, fruit and chocolate chip pancakes.

“Do you remember Rohan’s weird mythology? How did he remember those stories?” Vikrant asked, Karan nodded laughing. 

“Hey, there were some good stories like the Orpheus and Eurydice myth, that was beautiful!” Karan exclaimed. It was a truly beautiful myth. Orpheus, a musician marries Eurydice, a beautiful woman and when she dies because of a snakebite, Orpheus ventures to the land of the dead in an attempt to bring Eurydice back to life. Hades, the king of the underworld was so moved by his music and grief  that he allowed him to take Eurydice back to the world of life under one condition, as they escape Orpheus defies that condition by turning back to steal a glimpse of her and dooms them. This elicited a friendly debate in the group. Rohan argued that Orpheus had made the better choice, the poet's choice to look back and cherish the good memories they had already built while Sunaina argued that Orpheus was stupid and should’ve made the lover’s choice to not look back. The debate nerve resolved.

“I better get going, I’ll be late to the sit-in” Karan said, standing up from his spot.

“Wait!” Vikrant stopped him. “I have something to share,” he left to rummage through his bags and returned with two coins. Karan looked at him skeptically.

“There is a wishing fountain in front of the lift, on this floor. These are special wishing coins. Make a wish with me Karan?” Karan couldn’t say no to those hopeful eyes.

“Ofcourse,” he obliged.

They left the room unlocked, luckily the floor was practically empty as all the tourists had already left early in the morning. They stood in front of the wishing fountain, opening their eyes as they’d finished.

Karan would admit that this was the first time he had felt peace and love in parting. His skin still tingled from the embrace the night before and the soft touches to the hand this morning.

“What did you wish for?” Vikrant asked, leaning over to whisper in Karan’s ear.

“I wished that hamare agle janam mein tum ladki ban kar aaoge so that no one will oppose us,” (I wished that in our next life you will be born as a girl so that no one will oppose us) he revealed, blushing with a soft chuckle. Vikrant chuckled.

“What about you?” Karan asked.

“I wished that agle janam mein hum jaise bhi hain, jo bhi hain hum ek dusre ko dhoond lenge aur humara rishta sab ko teekh lagega,” (I wished that in our next life however we are, whatever we are, we find each other and our relationship will seem right to everyone,) Vikrant revealed.

“I should go,” Karan says, hearing the elevator ding.

“Toh agle janam mein mile?” (So let’s meet in our next life?) Karan asked. Vikrant nodded. They both knew, somehow, somewhere they were meant to be. As they say, right person, wrong time.

Vikrant smiled and nodded. 

“Agala janam.” (Next life.)

Chapter Text

“Hey Karan, I’m taking a wild guess but if Ajay didn’t tell us about this sit in protest for his colleague he probably doesn’t want us to be here,” Aslam shrugged as they joined the crowd, eyeing the people to ensure Ajay wasn’t too close.

“You guys don’t know Ajay like I do and I think Karan’s right about this. We’re here for moral support that he needs, trust me,” Sonia reassured. Sukhi’s brows furrowed.

“How are we supporting him if he doesn’t even know we’re here?” He bit back his questions as Sonia shot him a look and they quietly continued merging into the crowd. They follow the crowd and come to a sitting point at India Gate. They sit, fidgety around the melancholy faces and hushed cries, unsure of how to feel themselves.                     

As he scans the grounds a sudden rage runs through Karan’s veins. Maybe it wasn’t so sudden but it spiked at this moment. He felt the same rage when he’d heard the news of the pilot’s death only a day before, not so enraged by his death but by the fact that no one could be held accountable. So many people who truly knew the pilot defended him and his character yet if the defence minister called him incompetent and useless the nation was to stand by and listen. They’re tired of listening to these lies when the proof was presented to them on a silver platter. Karan didn’t know his stance with a deity but he doesn’t know the one that created the earth can stand by and allow innocent lives to be taken for another man’s greed. As he glazes over the crowd again he locks eyes with Laxman sitting a little behind him, Karan spots the same anger and desire to fight in his eyes but he lowers them to the ground in shame or thought, maybe both.

As the sun begins to set Karan lights their long white candles with his lighter, eyes fixed on the flame as it moves from candle to candle.                                                                       

Sukhi studies the candle, the blaze dances around with the soft winds, a wonderful contrast to the thumping in his chest and tightening knot in his stomach.                   

Sonia thinks of the unthinkable. ‘What if it was Ajay?’ The low voice in her mind echoes. She plays with the ring on her finger. She knows nothing in the world could prepare any of them for that moment, nothing. But it wasn’t Ajay, the thought didn’t relieve her, it intensified the if. It could be Ajay any other time, it was Ajay’s dad twenty odd years ago. This one incident, this save doesn’t exempt Ajay from the dangers of his job. ‘Stop this Sonia,’ she closes her eyes momentarily as the voice sinks into her thoughts.                   

DJ watches from the corner of his eye as a single tear slips out of Sue’s left eye, she catches his eye. “Tum theek ho?” (Are you okay?) He knows the answer, he knows her. “Isn’t it sad DJ? He wanted to fight for his country but his own leaders let him down,” she scoffed bitterly at the irony.                                                                  

Aslam keeps his eyes fixated on the ground beneath him, numbing himself to the silent cries beside him and he can feel Laxman’s glaze fluttering on and off him but he dares not look back.

There is a hitch in the breath of everyone present as the police sirens move closer and closer. They don’t move. They can’t move. Moving means compliance.

They don’t move so the police make them move. Karan watches with horror in his eyes, men, women, kids clothes staining red from the hit of a baton.                                       

“Go all of you! Get out! I’ll get Ajay,” he dives into the crowd, ignoring his friends’ cries. He pushes through the crowd, ripping out of many grasps till he sees Ajay, writhing on the ground then he is struck too. Karan groans and yells, feeling the back of his shirt tear as he dragged across the concrete floor, but he can’t focus on those things. He can only see the blatant abuse of innocent protestors, their cause being torn to shreds because they dared question a person in power. As the officers’ attention retreats to another protestor, Karan crawls over to Ajay and throws himself over the limp but conscious pilot. Karan presses his lips together, holding in the sounds of pain wrought by more assault to his already wounded back. The picture of flight lieutenant Shaheed Bashir is tipped over, set ablaze by the candles lit around it. Karan wants to reach out and set it upright on the ground still ablaze, but he doesn’t move not until he effectively pushes the sources of hurt away from Ajay. Not until Ajay is safe.

Ajay’s arm is thrown around Karan’s shoulders and he’s softly but quickly pulled to his feet. They stagger out of the sea of screaming civilians, narrowly avoiding another attack. The further they move, the more the crowd looks like a swarm of ants, scattered as they run in and out of each other's paths. Karan examines the crowd, sighing as there is no sign of his friends. He continues to drag Ajay along but the swarm of bees in his stomach begin stinging his sides, the images of crying children and women infiltrating his minds. As they get to the main road he stops an autorickshaw.                                                  

“Bhaiya, dus minute rukhiya, jitna paisa chahiye main utna dedunga but please idhar hi rukhna,” (Brother, wait for ten minutes, I’ll give you as much money as you want but please just wait here) the driver of the rickshaw, frightened at the state of Karan and Ajay nods with fear riled enthusiasm. He maneuvers Ajay into the rickshaw and cups his face. 

“Jay, stay here, I’ll be back as soon as possible, okay?” He sighs at Ajay’s unresponsiveness. “Bhaiya inko bahar mat aane dena,” (Brother, don’t let him out) the driver nods and Karan turns away, running back towards the khaki and camouflage crowd, ignoring the pain in his limbs that soared out to the rest of his body, pulling uncomfortably at his core.

He swam against the harsh khaki waves, his eyes scouring the floor. His heart shattering to a million pieces as the cries of young children echoed in his heart, he picked them off the floor, one in each arm moving staggeringly to the shore of the violence before diving back in. The kids levitated towards him, holding out their arms for him to hold as he dug them out. He hunched over them, becoming a shield for them, determined to not allow any weapon to hit them. He holds them close as he topples over, his arm guarding their heads from the rough concrete. As he searched the herd again to find no one more vulnerable than the other he kneeled down before the kids, who stood with their backs straight against the brick wall, wiping the tears off a crying girl’s face.

“Don’t go anywhere, your parents will come find you,” he instructed, the kids nodded, wiping at their tear stained faces as their eyes searched fervently for their families.

“Thank you,” a few hoarse voices mumbled out as he stood up, Karan just nodded, grateful to see most of them were spared from bruises.

As he runs back to the autorickshaw, the scene, if they were not in the current situation would’ve been quite laughable. The driver was standing guard, battling a panicked yet zealous but weak Ajay. Karan sped up his pace, yet again ignoring the spur of sharp pangs in his body.

“What’s wrong?” he yelled, panting as he stood behind the driver.         

“Dekhiye na sir, woh wapas jaane chahte hain,” (Look sir, he wants to go back there) the driver informed as Ajay attempted to break his way free.                                               

“Aap baithiye main dekhta hoon,” (You sit, I’ll look after him) the driver reluctantly moves from the entrance and sits in his seat, Karan quickly replaces his spot, gasping at the sight of blood dripping down the side of his friend’s face.                                                           

“Karan move, get out of my way I have to go! I can’t leave, please!” His speech was slurred and he was thrashing weakly.                                                                                       

“Ajay no. You’re hurt, we are going to the hospital. Don’t worry, it’ll all be fine,” with that Ajay gives out in Karan’s chest, heart wrenching sobs that tug at Karan’s heart. With the little strength he could muster up, Karan nudges Ajay inside and sits quietly by him, allowing his friend to blubber into his chest for the remainder of the ride. He sends out a text, telling the others to make their way to their own houses, that he and Ajay are okay.

His knees bob up and down in the hospital waiting room, the nurses eyeing him and his blood drenched shirt with concern but he refuses the medical attention. He shoots out his seat as the doctor exits and the doctor gives him a sympathetic smile.                   

“Nothing serious physically but he’s in shock, he probably didn’t expect this outcome. You can take him home,” she informed, walking off to tend to her other patients.

It’s dark as they walk out, they enter the same auto they came in. The way home is quiet, even the sounds of Delhi are dull and muted. Their senses are numbed by their thoughts, Ajay looks out the small window, his eyes trained on the ground travelling beneath them. Karan watches him, watches the man who held out for so long, finally breaks, Karan knows that Ajay needs to break to feel all that he needs to feel.

They stagger into the house, Ajay still leaning into Karan, Maa watches knowingly, with a heavy heart and concerned smile as they trudge up the stairs and into Ajay’s bedroom. He lies down with his legs hanging off the side and lets himself go, Karan sits silently on the bed by his feet, watching as Ajay's lips tremble. When he opens his eyes again, they land on Karan immediately, as though they were searching for him, Karan, who seems as nonchalant as ever but Ajay knows better, they lock eyes and he can see the eruption of thoughts in his eyes. Karan takes the watchful gaze as a sign to leave.                         

“Stay, please Karu,” he pleads as the other’s hand lands on his door handle. His entire being seems to falter at the words, nonetheless he walks to the other side of the bed and lays himself down. Ajay turns and buries himself into his friend, the familiar comfort and love that he didn’t know he was longing for engulfed him. His fear didn’t melt as he hoped he would but the sweet whispered consolations were enough for him to relax and eventually fall a slave to slumber.

A heat lingers near Karan’s face and pulls him out of his sleep. The warmth is concentrated at his lips but spreads to his cheeks and nose, he knows this kiss and he doesn’t want to pull back, albeit the knowledge of its impropriety and the deceitful thoughts that followed, it felt right no matter how wrong it was. Karan pulled back, almost falling off the bed as he did. Ajay is wide eyed and disappointment airs from him even in the dark of the night.

“You’re tired Ajay, go to sleep,” he mutters, pulling the sheets closer to him as he turns away from the distressed pilot.

‘Ajay’s hurt and he just needs comfort, he’s not thinking straight. He doesn’t want to hurt you,’ Karan reminds himself as his tired eyes stay open, anger trying to course its way through his veins. Ajay’s breath is hot and uneven on his back, he can feel blood dried onto his ripped shirt, the pain has dulled slightly but he pays no mind to it at all.     

“You’re hurt,” Ajay states, voice more stable than before.                                               

“I’m fine, you need rest.” Ajay says no more and continues to stare at Karan’s bloodied, crimson back with tears stinging his eyes.

Laxman is pulled back as he’s reaching out for an already out of sight Karan.                 

“Let him go,” It was Sonia, her grip was easily breakable but her eyes firm and unreadable. They run, shoving and pushing against officers but jogging as carefully as they can past other civilians so as to not startle them.

They are standing at the edge of the violence when Laxman sees it. The familiar white car and beard. He stares pleadingly at the car, waiting for this man he once treated like god to step out and put an end to this injustice but all he receives is an indifferent glare at the panicked crowds. The ignorance in his eyes as he rolls the window up disgusts Laxman, his stomach flips. Laxman feels his heart tug with an indescribable pain, every moment in his life that he had listened to that man was now tainted with a growing revulsion. Tears prick the corner of his eyes as the car runs away. He hears his name dully in the background, muffled by screams of pain.                                                                                     

“Pandey chalo!” (Pandey let’s go!) As the calls stop Laxman is pulled out of his trance to be met with a horrible sight. It was Aslam that had been calling out to him, running back to get him out. Now, Aslam lay cowering on the floor as officers surrounded him with repeated attacks. Laxman saw red, his skin was heating up and his jaw fell slack. Before he knew it, Laxman was running towards them, his legs moving at a pace he didn’t know he was capable of. His arms seemed to have a mind of their own as they pushed away the officer and grabbed his baton, using his own weapon to fight back. The image of a balled up Aslam flashing against the red as the officer fell to the ground in pain. The tears burn as they roll down his cheeks. Aslam is pulling him back, begging him to stop.

“Laxman please, let’s go!” Aslam’s hands are sweaty and cold but he’s standing and trembling voice continues its pleas before Laxman eventually drops the baton.                                   

“Pagal ho gaya hai kya Pandey?” (Have you gone mad Pandey?) Sukhi yells as they catch up to the others. Laxman stays silent.

The car is parked a little further out on the streets but they make it out, mostly unscathed.

“We should wait for Karan and Ajay,” Sue voices as they hop into the car, Laxman leads Aslam into the passenger seat before reluctantly moving to the back, leaning against the car as though he was standing guard.                                                                             

“Are you okay?” Sonia asks Aslam, throwing Laxman a suspicious glare, they all lean forward to examine Aslam’s wounds.                                                                                   

“I’m fine,” Aslam mumbles, watching Laxman stare into the distance from the side mirrors of the jeep.

They wait for an agonizing 36 minutes or so -not that they were counting- before they received the text. DJ drops Sonia and Sukhi off first.

“I can’t go home like this,” Aslam mutters as DJ is about to turn into the lane near his house. “Ammi ko heart attack aa jayega.” (Ammi will get a heart attack.)                           

“You can stay at mine,” Laxman offers as Aslam reaches for the door handle. “I live alone and I know first aid too so I can fix you up. If you want.”                                                   

“Yeah okay,” Aslam shrugs, attempting to hide his reddened cheeks and the sound of his heart beating out of its cage with anxiousness or anticipation, he’s not completely sure himself.

“Laxman’s been weirdly quiet today,” Sue mutters as her and DJ watch Aslam and Laxman stutter up some stairs. They’re the only ones left in the car now.                                   

“He’s Laxman, he’s always weirdly maybe even suspiciously silent.” DJ retorts. “Do you think any of this has changed him at all? The documentary? This news? ”                         

Sue jumps into the passenger seat. “Mujhse kyu puch rahe ho?” (Why are you asking me?) DJ shrugs, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as they open and close like a goldfish, trying to find an answer. “I guess I trust your judgement, I don’t know…” he trails off, shrugging.                                                                                                                 

“Laxman. He’s a goddamn puzzle. It has to have changed him, I mean he wouldn’t even sit next to Aslam in the beginning and now look,” she responds, nodding her head to the pair still struggling with the door of Laxman’s apartment. DJ hums.                                           

“I want him to change,” DJ admits, “It’s crazy Gulabo. Pehle toh main uska chehra bhi nahi dekhna chahta tha ab usse main apna dost mantha hoon and I don’t want him to leave.” (It’s crazy Gulabo. I didn’t even want to see his face before and now I think of him as a friend and I don’t want him to leave.)

Aslam limps into Laxman’s small apartment. It’s unexpectedly neat and cosy, not that Aslam knew what he was expecting. A grunt escapes his lips as he plops down rather carelessly on the sofa but Laxman motions him towards the only bedroom and he complies, playing with the bed of his nails as Laxman disappears.                                 

“Shirt utaro,” (Take off your shirt) Laxman instructs, reappearing in the door frame.   

“Huh?” His eyes land on the wipes and water in Laxman’s hands before he can further embarrass himself.                                                                                                           

He peels off his blood stained lavender kurta, grunting as it scrapes against a wound.       

“It’s table salt and water, it might sting a little,” he warns before moving closer. There is a silence that follows, a few hisses from Aslam but that’s all. The silence is neither comfortable nor awkward.                                                                                                   

Alsam follows Laxman’s movements through the mirror propped against the wall, Laxman didn’t know he was being watched, his eyes were weary and strained.                             

“Are you alright?” Aslam asks, noting a hesitance and sadness in his movements. 

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”                                                                                   

“Tum ro rahe the. Wahan, sit-in mein,” (You were crying. Over there, at the sit-in,) Laxman stops in his tracks, hand frozen just above the skin of Aslam’s neck. Aslam watches the mirror intently, watching as Laxman’s dry eyes fill with tears again.                                     

“We should be glad that you weren’t hit in the head or anywhere fatal,” Laxman states, moving again. He moves to Aslam’s chest.“Lean back a little,” Laxman instructs.       

Aslam observes the shaky movements and the tear glazed eyes as they flutter, examining his chest. Suddenly Aslam feels self conscious, his body breaks into a hot sweat and he’s reddened. As Laxman’s fingers touch him, accidentally, the heat lingers.

“Do you want to take these off or pull them up?” Laxman tugs at Aslam’s pants and Aslam is frazzled. The heat crawls up his neck and to his cheek, his chest flushed.                 

“Um, I’ll just pull them up,” he mumbles quickly, rolling up the end of his pants to reveal his pale legs, now bruised and the red and purple bruises stand out brightly.           

Laxman drops to his knees in between Aslam’s legs, biting his lower lip, face frowning in concentration as he grabs a new wipe and runs it over a fresh bruise. The image creates a tightening knot in Aslam's stomach. The knot tightens and he feels a strange pulsing in his lower abdomen as Laxman’s hand moves higher up, he stifles a squeaky moan and involuntarily releases a noise from his throat.                                                                     

“Is it too painful? Do you want me to stop?” Laxman silently questions the taller man’s pain tolerance before hesitantly lingering back to the bruises as Aslam stiffly shakes his head. He moves to the other leg. The pool in Aslam’s stomach deepens, making him extremely warm and on edge. Aslam closes his eyes, throwing his head back and trying to think of anything but Laxman on his knees for him at this moment.

The floorboards creak as Laxman stands up, Aslam fakes a cool, unbothered façade. Laxman doesn't look his way once , Aslam wonders if Laxman has the same anticipation he feels. As a wipe rubs the corner of his left eye, Aslam's right eye stays focused on the man above him. Laxman's hot breath is brushing into his curly locks.

"I'm sorry." Laxman mutters awkwardly, releasing his left eye and moving towards his jaw, breath now tickling Aslam's neck.                                                                                                                   

"Kya?" (what?) Laxman looks up at him through his lashes.                                                   

"I'm sorry for everything" Laxman repeats.                                                                             

"Why? You've already - "                                                                                                     

"I know. I just... " he trailed off, shrugging.                                                                   

"Today must've been difficult for you," the question comes out as a statement, but Aslam saw the way Laxman watched the car window roll up and leave, he saw the tears of agony and betrayal running down Laxman's face as he thrashed the officer. He saw the struggle of acceptance behind every tear and the thoughts of shame and confusion crawl in and out Laxman's head.                                                                                                             

"They brainwashed you Laxman, I know your intentions now and they're not cruel. You were just misled," Aslam reassures as Laxman turns to put the bandages and wipes away. He hums in what was meant to sound like acceptance but came out as defeat, Aslam sighs.

"They showed me kindness and I got carried away. Here, you can wear this," Handing Aslam a kurta, Laxman brushes off his statement. Aslam leans forward and grabs Laxman's wrist.                                                                                                                                   

"Stop berating yourself over something you can’t control Laxman, " the words are whispered. They hold a gaze, the air between them seems suffocating and the place where their skin touches radiates heat to the rest of the plain room.                                           

“S-sorry,” Aslam stutters, pulling back. Laxman’s wrist pulses with Aslam’s lingering warmth and his arm stays frozen a few centimetres away from his body.                           

“Should I take the sofa?” Aslam’s voice is muffled by the kurta he’s pulling over his head.

“No. The bed is big enough for both of us,” Laxman says, grabbing the bottle of water on the nightstand.                                                                                                               

“Oh okay,” the air is still hot as Aslam shifts to one side of the bed.

The lights are turned off and something heavy lingers in the air precariously. Their backs face each other on the bed.                                                                                               

“I’m sorry,” Laxman is beginning to sound like a broken record. Aslam sighs. Turning he places a hand on Laxman’s shoulder, an acknowledgement, hopefully good enough to stop the burgeoning contrite. He retracts his hand in a slow manner, displeased with the lack of response.

As Sonia makes her way to bed, the events and her thoughts of the day falter her actions and take her mind elsewhere. As she lays awake deep into the night, her head spins and she picks up her phone wanting to talk to the only person that could comfort her. Her heart swelled with desirable expectancy as she wrote out her text.

I miss you. The text reads.

'No one needs to know,'  she reminds herself.

Ajay’s phone never buzzes that night.

Chapter Text

Aslam groans as he sits up in the unfamiliar bed, the dull pain shoots up his back and legs. Laxman’s touch still ghosted over the sensitive skin. The room is empty, his bloodied shirt is folded neatly at the end of the bed. Aslam's sigh lands heavily in the air.

He needs some hot chai.

He ends up at the canteen, glancing often at the ancient clock, waiting for the perfect time to leave and stealthily break into his own house. The morning wind is harsh against his cheeks and nose, the chai warms his throat as it runs down. His body is still haunted by Laxman’s rough palms and fingertips, and his mind by the regret, guilt and shame in Laxman’s eyes. There is an ache in his chest that was most definitely not wrought by a wound. He hums in surprise as a baby blue shawl wraps around him, it breaks him out of his thoughts.

“Hello!” Sonia greets him with a witty smile. Ordering another two cups of chai he brings her under the shawl with him.

“What are you doing here?” She asks, her eyes grazing over the bruise on his left temple. He shrugs.

“Waiting for the right time to go home,” he mutters, inhaling the sweet smell of freshly made chai placed carefully in front of the duo. She gave him a puzzled look.

“I stayed at Laxman’s. If I went home like this Abbu would have had me on house arrest for the rest of my life.”

“Laxman, huh?” she mutters in response, her tone not decipherable. 

“What does that mean?” He asks in confusion.

“Nothing!” she raises her hands in defence. “It’s just, you know, weird. You and Laxman.”

Aslam rolls his eyes, his hair tickling his neck as he shakes his head.  Aslam shifts as her gaze is fixed on him, but there is nowhere he can hide as the shawl imprisons him to her gaze.

“He’s changed though, I can feel it,” She says after a small pause, dropping her chin against his chest. He nods as nonchalantly as possible.

“Sue ka kamal hai. Taqdeere badalegi woh ladki,” he mutters proudly. (It’s all thanks to Sue. That girl will change destinies.)

Sonia chuckles as she remembers Aslam reading her palm a week or two ago. Then scoffs at how quickly everything could change.

There is a silence that is neither comfortable nor uncomfortable. Aslam tries to pull away from the thoughts of the night before. Sonia secretly studies his expressions.

“It’s okay, you know? It’s okay to question it all, to not really know who you are,” she says. Aslam tries to pretend that the words are odd but understands her completely.

“Well then, who am I Sonia?” He asks, trying to be playful yet does not meet her eye.

“You know who you are,” she smirks before continuing, “Maybe I know too.” She sits up proudly, her smile widening with his. There is a small chuckle before they fall into the silence again, overpowered by the wind.

“I see the way you look at him. It’s okay Aslam,” she cups the other side of his face, moving closer.

“Sonia you’ve gone mad,” he states, picking at the wooden table.

“Have I? I didn’t even take a name Aslam but you thought of him,” she says, raising an eyebrow as he pulls away from the hand on his face. 

“It’s not right.”

“I don’t know about right and wrong. But I do know that we feel what we feel for certain people because we were made that way and I know most people don't see it that way but it’s not something we can help,” she says, her voice an unattainable balance of stern and soft. He wonders what she means by “we”. 

The silence is now unbearably uncomfortable.

“Ajay kaisa hai?” Aslam fills the silence. (How is Ajay?)

“I don’t know, usko hi dekhne jaa rahi thi,” she informs but she slouches and begins picking at the skin surrounding her painted fingernails. (I don’t know, I was just on my way to see him)

“Kya hua?” He asks, nodding at her tick, knowing something was on her mind. (What happened?)

“Is it wrong that jab main sochti hoon na iss sab ke baare main, I can’t help but think just what if it was him?” She knows better than to hide things from Aslam. He shakes his head. (Is it wrong that whenever I’m thinking about all of this, I can’t help but think just what if it was him?) 

“Sab sochte hain bas koi bolta nahi hai.” (Everyone thinks of it, but nobody says it out loud.)

She hums as he pats her back. An ache in the chest is a commonality that goes unspoken between them. Sonia’s guilt overwhelms her, she’s on the brink of tears as she glugs down the chai.

“I should go,” she picks up her bag but leaves the shawl with Aslam. Before walking away she looks at him with a soft smile and teary eyes.

“Think about what I said Aslam.”

He nods.

Aslam is left to wonder about all that has happened today and it’s barely eight in the morning.

“Good morning.”

Ajay opens his eyes to a suspiciously chipper Sonia holding a cup of chai. His body throbs with dull aches and the absence of warmth beside him deepens it.

“Karan?” he asks groggily. Sonia’s smile drops a little but she holds onto it as she shrugs.

“How are you feeling?” It’s Ajay's turn to shrug. She places the cup on his table and kisses his cheek.

He cringes as Sonia takes a hold of his hand. His actions from last night are all coming back to him. He heard her questions and answered them. The skin where their hands touched lacked warmth, the cold bit deeper than the morning weather.

She is stiff and controlled in her movements and words too, it felt all wrong. Yet they sit there, telling each other- lying that it was all going to be okay.

Karan limps into the ‘classroom’ to find his friends already sitting there with sullen faces. He tries his hardest to straighten out his leg as he walks to sit by Aslam. The poet turns to greet him and Karan is surprised by the bruised face.

“Tujhe kya hua?” He grabs Aslam’s chin softly, examining the cleaned wounds. (What happened to you?)

“Sab Pandey ke wajah se hua hai,” Sukhi interjects, Aslam shakes his head. (Everything happened because of Pandey)

“Laxman hit you?” Karan is more confused.

“No man. Sit.” Aslam moves his bag to the other side.

“Laxman hai kahan?” Ajay asks, his eyes fixed on the right arm of Karan’s jacket. (Where is Laxman?)

“I woke up and he wasn’t there,” Aslam shrugs. 

“You stayed at his place?” Sukhi’s face furrows in confusion. Aslam nods nonchalantly.

Karan shifts uncomfortably under Ajay’s gaze, burning holes into the side of his face. He leans back with gritted teeth as the edge of the step grazes a cut. 

“Karan, how is your back? Should we go get it checked?” Ajay asks, studying the pained expressions on Karan’s face. Karan does not look at him but sighs as Aslam looks up worriedly.

“What happened to your back? Is it as bad as your face?” Aslam asks, noticing the wounds on Karan’s face were not cleaned properly.

“Worse.” Ajay comments.

“Karan hospital chale? It could get infected!” Sue urges. (Karan let’s go to the hospital? It could get infected!)

“It’s fine. I’m fine. I showered it clean, it shouldn’t be too bad,” Karan deadpans.

“It’s horrible,” Ajay mumbles only so that Sonia beside him could hear it, she frowns in concern but doesn’t say anything. Karan grumbles something inaudible, his eyes stayed focused on the graffitied wall on his left. Aslam watches the unease in Karan’s movements and looks back at the wall and the week old spray paint cans lying underneath it.

“Wanna help me finish it?” He asks Karan quietly so only he can hear with a smirk.

“It’s not finished?”

“As artists we get to decide when it's finished!” He announces proudly, standing with an outstretched hand.

“Artists? I think you mean vandalizers.” Karan retorts, taking his friend's hand. 

Together they try their hardest not to reveal their limps as they move towards the wall and toss each other cans, occasionally stepping back to admire their own work.

Sonia follows Ajay’s jealous gaze to the colourful wall. Something in her sinks to the pit of her stomach as she watches the ugly emotion take over Ajay’s eyes. 

Ajay takes Karan’s distraction as an opportunity to ask the others a question and divert himself from the pangs of a feeling Ajay is not ready to admit to, as he sees Karan smiling and laughing with Aslam.

“Why didn’t you guys stop Karan from coming for me? He got really hurt.” Ajay rips his eyes away from the two at the other end of the area.

“Stop him? Usne chance kaha diya. Announce kar ke hero ki tarah bhagthe chale aaya tere paas,” DJ explained. (Stop him? He didn’t give us the chance to! He announced it and started running towards you like some sort of hero.)

Sonia and Sue nodded in agreement. 

“Aur Laxman ko bhi kuch ho gaya tha. He was frozen for a solid minute and then ran to protect Aslam? I don’t know. Yesterday was very scary and ajeeb,” Sukhi added. (And something happened to Laxman too. He was frozen for a solid minute and then ran to protect Aslam. I don’t know. Yesterday was very scary and weird.)

“Where is Laxman? As soon as he’s here we can go do something fun. I think we can all use a little bit of diversion,” Sue grumbles, slouching into DJ’s shoulder. The others hum in agreement.

“Speak of the devil,” Sonia mumbles, nodding at the top of the steps as they turn to see Laxman stagger down them.

It goes quiet for a few minutes. Even the laughing duo drop their paint cans as they turn to see Laxman standing awkwardly, rubbing at the nape of his neck.

“How are you worse than yesterday? Pandey?” Sukhi asks, referring to the fresh splotches of blood on his clothes and skin and the stream dripping from the corner of his mouth. Laxman’s eyes drop to examine his brown shoes.

“Taufa hai,” he begins, still staring at the point of his shoes. “Party se, chodne ke liye.” (It’s a gift from the party, for leaving.)  

There is a long silence before Sukhi erupts into cheers and soon the others follow, tackling Laxman into a bone crushing hug. Laxman groans and cannot help but feel nervous. Aslam is watching from the painted wall, waiting for Laxman to look at him as his heart swells in his chest with pride.

Laxman does eventually muster up enough courage to look at the tall man from under his lashes. Frowning as he met with an expressionless face. But it cracks. 

Laxman’s cheeks redden as Aslam’s small smile cracks into the largest smile he’s ever seen Aslam adorn. Aslam nods when he realises Laxman is waiting for a reaction. It’s a subtle nod but Laxman was focused and caught it.

The slight nod, the sweet, toothy smile and the red of Aslam’s cheek’s contrasted with the blue on the wall behind him was all perfect to Laxman. It felt as though someone had taken everything in Laxman’s life and shifted it a little to the right so that everything fell in place perfectly. Now that Laxman was taking that smile in it was hard to look away. 

Laxman swore that this moment was probably his life’s happiest. 

“Acha chalo Pandey khush khabri ke saath kuch meetha khilado. Aur drinks on Laxman tonight!” DJ announces as he and Sukhi race to the vehicles parked a few metres away. (Okay let’s go, Laxman buy us something sweet for giving us such good news. And drinks on Laxman tonight!)

Sue laughs at their antics but joins their race. Sonia grabs the keys off Ajay’s fingers.

“You’re not driving, not in this state,” she concludes, throwing Ajay’s bike keys to Karan. 

“DJ, car keys.” Karan tosses the keys to the car to DJ. Ajay pouts.

“He’s limping too!” Ajay complains but they all ignore his whining and continue their march towards the vehicles.

Ajay groans internally as they pull up at the movie theatres. His head is throbbing and the flashing colours and over the top musical numbers in the typical bollywood film was certainly not the ideal situation to be in.

As they walk into the building paying no mind to the looks they receive for their bloodied faces and bandaged bodies, Karan musters up the courage and puts aside the guilt that was pulling him into two different directions as he walked up close to Sonia. There is a sternness in her expressions and body language which makes Karan question whether Ajay had told her about the incident the night before. 

“Sonia?” he whispers as they’re walking towards the ticket stations.

“Kya?” She answers coldly, slowing her pace a little so Ajay wouldn’t hear them despite the pilot being lost too deep in his own thoughts. (What?)

“Hum kya kar rahe hai Sonia?” (What are we doing Sonia?)

“Movie dekh rahe hai,” she stated. (Watching a movie)

“Sonia,” he trails off, knowing she was well aware of what he meant. She sighs heavily. 

“He needs to let it all go for a day. Ajay loves movies and he needs a distraction.” 

“No he doesn’t. You know he won’t be distracted.”

“He’s my fiancé Karan. I know how to handle this,” she says through a gritted, phony smile, emphasising Ajay’s relation to her.

“Exactly, you of all people should know that he doesn’t want a distraction,” Karan reasoned. 

“This is not about his wants, he needs to take a break. Take time off before taking the next step. Explaining this to you is useless, you’ve never consoled a soul in your life.” She sighs in frustration, picking up her pace to catch up with Ajay, leaving a stunned, slightly offended and confused Karan stopping dead in his tracks till Laxman lightly pushed him forward. 

To Karan’s luck, he ended up sitting between Ajay and DJ. The movie in Karan’s opinion was bland, the others seemed to be enjoying it enough to be totally taken into its world, though Laxman seemed preoccupied with Aslam’s changing expressions to be paying any real attention past his chuckle to make it seem as though he was watching the movie. 

Karan stiffens as Ajay leans over to him. Karan tries to shift closer to DJ.

“Are you angry at me?” Ajay asks as quietly as he can, eyes still glued to the screen.

“No.”

“Then why are you avoiding me?”

“I’m not. Watch the movie,” Karan acts as though the movie is captivating. Ajay turns to watch the plain expression on Karan’s face.

“Is it because of last night? Did I make you uncomfortable? I’m sorry I-”

“It’s okay Ajay. I’m not angry or upset. We don’t need to talk about last night. You were upset, it happened in the moment. It meant nothing.” Karan whispers back, not sure if he had meant what he uttered. Ajay turned his attention back to the screen as he sunk into his seat, chewing popcorn in a sad, almost pathetic manner. Karan slumps forward, the inability to lean back irritated him more than he’d like to admit.

Ajay’s face remains sullen as they walk out of the theatre.

“Hey Karan,” Sonia calls out to him, grabbing the arm of his jacket as they’re walking to the car, they slow their pace, allowing the others to walk ahead of them.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be that way before. I’m just confused and frustrated, I don’t know what to do” Sonia explains, hugging his arm as they take slow steps.

“Hey it’s okay. I know this must all be so hard on you. Can’t imagine how it must feel to see someone you love in such a terrible position,” Karan consoles.

Karan winces as Sonia’s arms wrap around him, pressing onto his back. She pulls back in concern.

“Sorry.” 

He smiles her concern off.

As he nears the bike, Ajay is waiting there with his hands folded onto his chest, facing the car parked by it. Karan’s smile drops.

“If you’re not gonna let me drive, at least let me sit behind him,” Ajay pleads. Sonia shrugs and takes her seat in the jeep. Karan tries not to showcase his reluctance as he moves onto the bike.

Karan drives in silence, tuning out the random cheers and laughter from the others as all his senses are focused on the arm around his waist and the other curling forward to rest dangerously high on his thigh. He knew Ajay meant nothing by it, if anything it was just a reflex. 

As they are driving Ajay's gaze drops to Karan's hands, gripped around the handlebar. The corner of his lips turn upward into a smile as he notices that his friend's wrists are bare, the silver bracelet that was beginning to rust was gone. Ajay didn't know why the bracelet irked him so much but he was glad to see it gone.

Somehow, somewhere in the chaos of the ‘classroom’ Sonia had caught Karan wincing with every movement and convinced him to take off his jacket only to find dark red and brown patches decorating the back of his neatly ironed white shirt. The colour of Laxman's kurta was also almost nonexistent as a dark red painted it.

That’s how Karan and Laxman ended up shirtless on the sofa in Sue’s room. Sukhi sits directly in between them, avoiding the sight of blood and scars and trying to calm the queasy feeling in his stomach.

DJ and Ajay snigger as Aslam goes on a rage about the need to make sure wounds are cleaned properly and Sonia flinches every time Karan or Laxman wince at the sting as Sue tries to clean the wounds out.

The happenings of yesterday felt unreal, almost cinematic. Karan watched Ajay smile and it filled his heart, though it did come with the cost of Aslam’s rageful concern.

Chapter Text

Karan sighs as he waits for the front gates to open and allow his car to drive out. The sun is harsh on his neck but the day was dull and there seemed to be a heavy nothingness lingering in the air even before the day truly started. He squints as the gates open, Ajay’s bike parked right across his house as his face was scrunched in what Karan could place as anger and his lips move quickly but the person or people he may have been talking to were hidden behind a large tree. 

Ajay catches Karan’s eye as he drives closer and hurriedly whispers to the person behind the tree. They turn and leave, taking long quick strides. 
“Hey, tum yahan kaise?” Ajay asks, starting his bike again with a nervous chuckle. (Hey, why are you here?)
“Main wahan rehtha hoon Ajay,” Karan states blankly, pointing back to the building behind them. “Mujhe puchni chahiye yeh sawal. Kaun tha woh?” (I stay over there Ajay. I should be asking this question. Who was that?)
“Ajnabee. He was just asking for directions and I was here waiting for you. Let’s go?” (A stranger.)
“Yeah.” Karan sighs. 

“Oi Mr Singhania!” Sue yells out, waving her hand before Karan’s face, snapping Karan out of his daze. He flinched and the cigarette grasped tightly between his fingers fell to the ground soundlessly. 
“Huh?” Karan managed out, flustered. 
“Are you okay? Is your back hurting again?” She asks, suddenly on the edge of frantic. Karan sighs, pulling out  another cigarette.
“No, I’m fine. Just thinking about something, that’s all.” He lights the cigarette. “What were you saying?”
“The documentary’s editing is all done and I was wondering if you guys would like to watch the final cut? Tomorrow night maybe?”
Excited shouts of agreement echoed the walls. Sue beamed proudly, thinking of the stark contrast to four weeks ago where their blatant refusal and animosity towards Laxman had brought her spirits down.
“Is this an exclusive for the cast and director or can I be present?” Ajay asked, raising his hand as though he were a child in school. 
“Of course you’re welcome to watch with us Ajay! I did want to keep it a surprise but we could use the second opinion.” Sue explained. Ajay smiled widely, excited to watch his friends in something they all seemed to be passionate about. He found it strange though, how much the last four weeks or so had changed his friends, how much he himself had changed whether the change was for better or worse, only time can tell.

Aslam turned from his wall of art to watch the flames of the fire light the dim area of the classroom. On the other side of the fire sat a laid back Karan, a cigarette between his lips while the smoke and blaze danced around his sunken face, expression blank but eyes full of thought. 

Aslam frowned. 

“Kya hua?” He whispered as he slowly lowered himself by his friend, gritting his teeth. (What happened?)
“Kuch nahi.” The bland reply was expected. (Nothing)
“Aaj kuch khoya khoya sa lag raha hai. Sab theek?” Aslam tries again, following Karan’s gaze to the rest of their group stationed a little further away from them, drinking and dancing their night away. (You look a little lost today. Everything okay?)

Karan sighs deeply, his eyes slowly flickering between Sonia and Ajay and the flames as they dance in each other’s arms, their feet floating effortlessly around each other. The guilt was eating him away, a sneaking suspicion that Sonia knew but not enough courage to talk about the night of the riots again. 
Aslam follows his gaze, eyes landing on Sonia, Aslam thinks about their conversation yesterday and cringes, unrecognised emotions set in the pit of his stomach as his eyes move to Laxman almost instinctively. He quickly looks away to find Sue glancing between himself and Laxman for a brief moment  before turning her attention back to DJ. 
Out of nowhere Aslam feels uneasy, his legs urge to get up and run. 

“Can we leave?” Karan turned around to face him, eyes covered with his large sunglasses but a hint of desperation seemed to escape into his voice. 
“Sure, come I know a place. Leave the keys, we’ll walk.” Aslam happily obliged, it had been far too long since he’d had some one on one time with Karan. 
“Wait, what if someone notices?”
“Karan I’m sure everyone here is too drunk to tell their left from their right. Don’t worry about it, let’s just get out of here.”

Karan slipped the keys into the pocket of DJ’s discarded jacket and happily staggered off with Aslam hoping no one had caught them sneaking off till much later. 

Sonia watched with drowsy eyes as Karan and Aslam snuck away, hands lingering around each other’s warmth. Her eyes scan the classroom looking for a plain beige kurta lazing around the steps. She finds him, watching the pair sneak away, Laxman’s eyes are glassy and she can sense the longing as his eyes move back to the ground beneath him. 

After a few minutes of walking Aslam groans and leans against a wall as Karan smirks.
“Okay maybe we should’ve taken the bike!” He groans, ignoring Karan's smug ‘I-told-you-so’ expression.
“Where is this place? I thought it wasn’t too far away,” Karan asks, leaning against the wall beside Aslam.
“It isn’t.” Aslam raised his hand and pointed his index finger to a building just a little down the street from where they were resting. “It’s that building.” 
Karan hummed, intrigued. The building resembled maybe a library or a small bookshop but the lights were most definitely off and as Karan stood before the building his confusion grew, the door was locked.
“Aslam, it’s closed.” Karan stated, turning to face the poet next to him. Aslam’s face graced a large, mischievous smile on his face as he moved closer to the locked door and leaned under to pull out a small set of keys from a random nook that any person not looking for it would have definitely missed. 
“Are you sure this isn’t considering breaking and entering or something?” Karan asked, his head turning side to side, ensuring that no one caught them. 
“Chill, we’re not gonna get caught or in trouble,” Aslam said, flinging the door open. Karan hesitated, shifting uncomfortably as he urged his feet to move. Aslam looked back for a mere second before stepping back to stand with Karan. 

“Kya main tumhe different lagta hoon?” The question left Aslam’s mouth before he could rethink it. Aslam didn’t mind it though, it was only with Karan that he didn’t carefully consider his words before spitting them out. (Do I seem different to you?)
“Different? How?” Karan cocked a brow, still facing the building.
“I don’t know.” Aslam. hesitated for a second before continuing. “I was talking to Sonia yesterday and she said something along the lines of not being like other people and knowing who you are or something and I don’t know what she really meant.” Karan hums, taking in and absorbing all the words that Aslam said.
“I don’t know about different but you are special. I don’t know how one differentiates between normal and different but I do know one thing.”
“And what is that one thing Mr Singhania?”
“You've inhaled too many spray paint fumes. I’ve heard they mess up your head.” Karan giggles as Aslam rolls his eyes, the playful smile gives him away though and he pulls Karan into the small building. 

They limped around the large harwood shelves, fingers grazing the spines of different stories. 
“Hey, this is Vikrant's book.” Aslam stated, picking out a book from one of the shelves. “I’ve read this one, though many people said the ending felt incomplete. I mean it wasn’t as climactic as I was expecting either.” 
Karan scanned the front cover of the book, the salient image of the cover featured two silhouettes standing facing each other, leaning against a window with the moon shining above them and images of the silhouettes sitting near a large oak tree and laughing or holding hands under tables scattered around the rest of the cover. Karan smiled, a wave of nostalgia hit him. 
“Kuch kahaniya adhoore hi behtar hain Aslam.” (Some stories are better left incomplete Aslam.)
“You’re quite the philosopher today.” Aslam jokes, sensing something heavy in Karan’s voice. Karan just shrugged and moved on from the topic.
They continued to browse around for hours before finding a cozy spot where Aslam read some poetry that he absolutely loved and some he wrote himself and despite the growing pains in their legs the hours felt like mere minutes. 
“You should really send this to a publisher.” Karan urged.
“It’s that good?” Aslam asked insecurely.
“It’s fucking genius. If you don’t send it soon I will steal it and send it out someday for you.” Karan threatened playfully. Aslam's face turned red as he chuckled nervously.
“I’ll think about it I guess. We better get home it’s two am.”
“I don’t want to leave. It’s nice here, peaceful.” Karan complained.
“I know but I think we need all the energy we can get if we are going to watch the documentary tomorrow. It’s going to be a hard watch, especially with everything going on.” Aslam sighs heavily but stands and offers Karan a hand. Karan takes it gratefully, groaning as pain shoots up his back.

They walk in a comfortable silence, taking in the beauty of empty Delhi roads, before reaching a road where they must depart, Aslam raises a brow as Karan turns to him.
“I’ll drop you home and then walk to mine.” Karan explained.
“No need,” Aslam put his hands on Karan’s shoulders and turned him around. “Go home.”
“But your house is further away, let me drop you!” Karan argued. 
“No! I’m not a child. Now go!”
Karan groaned, dropping his head back like a child being denied chocolate. Aslam is about to speak again but he’s interrupted by a light shining right into their eyes, the light gets closer and brighter and stops right before them. 
“Karan? Aslam?” 
“Laxman? What are you doing on the roads at this ungodly hour?” Aslam asked as Laxman pulled the bike up next to the pair.
“I could ask both of you the same thing.” Laxman retorted. Aslam cocked a brow. Laxman sighed in defeat, a tinge of pink crawling up his neck. “Okay, I wasn’t able to sleep, I thought a drive might clear my head.” 
“Right.” Karan chuckled. 
“Do either of you need a lift?” Laxman asked both of them, but Karan smirked, noting that Laxman’s gaze was fixed on Aslam. 
“I think Aslam could use one. You know his house is pretty far off. I’m only a five minute walk away.” Karan said as the other two struggled to pull their eyes away from either. 
“Uh, no it’s okay. You should continue your ride.” Aslam muttered.
“Get on the bike Aslam.” Laxman’s voice was almost demanding but still held a softness to it.
“Bye Karan, text me once you reach home.” Laxman said and started the bike again and Karan waved to flustered Aslam muttering his goodbyes to the unlikely pair of friends. 

“So what were you really doing out at this time?” Aslam asks as Karan is out of sight. Laxman chuckles nervously.
“I really couldn’t sleep. Something about watching the documentary tomorrow makes me nervous. It’s stupid.” Laxman replied, brushing his own statement off.
“It’s not. If it helps I'm nervous too, so is Karan.” 
Laxman just hums in surprise.

Aslam gasps as he’s lurched forward, his hand instinctively grabbing onto Laxman’s muscled shoulders. Laxman can’t be sure if he saw the speed breaker or not anymore, but he quickly mutters an apology, blushing furiously when he realises that Aslam is not gonna take his hands back and as much as he feels like he should mind it he cannot bring himself to. 

“Oh.” Aslam mumbles as Laxman doesn’t stop at the usual drop off place but takes the turn into the smaller, empty lanes.
“Koi nahi hai na raste main, tumhara ghar ke samne hi drop kar dunga.” Laxman stated. (There’s no one on the road, I’ll drop you off in front of your house.)
“Okay, take a left here.” Aslam directed. “Here we are.”
Aslam hasped as the bike came to a sudden stop, his chest pressing flush into Laxman’s back.
“Thank you.” Aslam muttered, slowly peeling himself away from Laxman and off the bike.
“No problem.” Laxman waited as Aslam walked to his front door. Aslam looked back as he knocked, butterflies fluttering the pits of his stomach as the door opened unveiling an annoyed, possibly angry Amanullah. He was about to say something before Laxman caught his eye, he stared. Laxman smiled politely, nodding to greet him, Amanullah forcibly smiled back. 
“Namaste Uncle ji.” Laxman greeted in a strained voice, hopping off the bike and bowing a little. Aslam bit the inside of his cheek, holding a laugh back.
“Salaam alaikum beta.” Amanullah returned the greeting, a genuine smile now gracing his lips.
“Abbu yeh Laxman hai, Laxman yeh mere Abbu hain.” Aslam introduces them to each other, chewing on the inside of his bottom lip, his mother steps out from behind his father. (Abbu this is Laxman, Laxman this is my Abbu.)
“Beta, andhar aaie na, chai pee kar jao.” His mother invited gracefully. Aslam stood in stunned silence. (Son, come inside, drink tea and go.)
“Nahi, Maa ji. Ab toh bahut dher ho gayi hai aur main aapko takleef nahi dena chahta hoon. Phir kabhi.” Laxman rejected politely. (No Maa ji. It’s really late now and I don’t want to trouble you. Another time.)
“Arey, pehli baar aaye ho hamare ghar, aisa khali hath kaise bhejenge tumhe. Aslam tum bulao apne dost ko.” Amanullah interjected quite enthusiastically, nudging the still stunned Aslam towards Laxman. (Arey, you’ve come to our house for the first time, how can we send you away empty handed. Aslam call your friend inside.)
“Andhar aao na Laxman.” Aslam said slowly, turning to face Laxman. (Come inside na Laxman.)
“Nahi uncle ji, please aise formalities mat rakhiye. Main zaroor phir kabhi aaonga.” Laxman pleaded with Amanullah. (No Uncle ji, please don't keep such formalities. I’ll come again for sure.)
Amanullah turned to his wife and whispered something, his wife agreed in a hushed tone.
“Beta ek minute ruk jao, kahi mat jaana.” She demanded, before turning around and whisking off into the kitchen without giving Laxman even a second to refuse. (Son, just wait for a minute, don’t go anywhere.)
Aslam stood watching Laxman and his father indulge in polite small talk. It felt like watching a dystopian film. 

His mother returned, handing a small plastic cover to his father who stepped out and quickly hurried towards Laxman.
“Yeh lo, iss mein kheer hai. Kha lena, aunty aur Aslam ki babhi ne banaya hai.” (Take this, this is kheer. Eat it, aunty and Aslam’s sister in law made it.)
“Uncle ji iss sab ki kya zaroorat hai?” (Uncle ji, what’s the need for all this?)
“Aisa khane ko na nahi kehta hai.” Amanullah scolded. (You shouldn’t say no when offered food.)
“Thank you Uncle and Maa ji. Main chalta hoon. Bye Maa ji, bye Aslam.” (Thank you uncle and Maa ji. I’ll go now.)

Aslam just waved as his parents said goodbye. His mouth was still agape in shock as he closed the door behind him. Amanullah turned to his son. Aslam gulped.
“Aise dost banaya karo. Dekho hindu ho kar bhi kitna susheel hai. Tumhare dosre dost ki tarah nahi.” Amanullah said in a calm tone, referring to the drunk mess Karan and Sukhi were in a few weeks ago. (Make friends like this. See despite being a hindu he is so well mannered. Unlike your other friends.)
Without another word the family went back to getting ready for bed. Aslam was stunned, his family had assumed he was with Laxman the entire night and trusted him right off the bat that they had not even cared to ask Aslam where he had gone.

Karan watched as Laxman and Aslam disappeared into the empty night. HIs legs ached as he continued the short walk to his house, hoping to spot an autorickshaw. He walked and walked for what felt like hours.

He leaned against a tree, sighing in relief to find his house just across the street. Still he continued to lean against the tree for a few more minutes but before he could stand a large hand holding a white cloth came across to clasp his mouth and a metal clunking sound echoed in his head. He turned to catch the person or people that had caused this ringing in his ears but his vision blurred and the last thing he remembered was a metallic taste in his mouth before his surroundings turned dark and he fell limp into unsurprisingly strong arms.

Meanwhile Ajay and Sonia had just snuck into the Rathod household. 
“Are you sure your hostel warden won’t notice?” Ajay whispered as they slowly climbed up the stairs.
“No trust me, we’re good.” Sonia said, bringing him in for a  cold kiss.
“Jump.” Ajay wrapped Sonia’s legs around his torso and carried her into his room. Sonia felt her heart beating in her throat, the usual butterflies nowhere to be seen. She gasped as Ajay lowered the both of them to the bed.

‘Liar.’ A voice whispered. Her memory is coated with a slender waist, a butterfly tattooed high on the ribcage and strawberry flavoured chapstick.

“Riya.” Sonia moaned the name as Ajay found the most sensitive part of her neck.
“What?” Ajay asked, pulling back and sitting beside his fiancé. Sonia has tears rolling down her rosy cheeks, the air around them is icier than ever. “Sonia, are you okay? You’ve been acting odd since my previous visit, you’ve shut me off and I know I’ve been distant too but work has really been stressing me out, let’s talk baby.”
Sonia lets out a choked sob, lunging forward to hug Ajay, he brings his hand up to play with her hair and wraps the other around her waist.
“Sonia? What’s wrong baby?” He asks, his own voice thick, knowing the air sat wrong in the room and that something between them has faded, praying that what was left wouldn't turn sour and poison the beauty of what’s left of them.
“I love you Ajay, I always will.” She manages through sobs.
“I love you too Sonia.”
“I can’t do this anymore.”
“What?”

Chapter Text

A small groan escaped Karan as he barely regained consciousness. There was a gust of wind that blew his sweat slick hair closer to his forehead and the ache in his back and head deepened. His dry throat ripped out another strangled groan as he attempted to move, only to find he couldn’t. 

He squinted as a singular bright white light shone straight into his eyes, confusing him further. The muffled, struggling voices around him run over his head and sound like babies babbling gibberish amongst one another, though one sounded painfully familiar. The darkness is clawing at him, bringing him back into a state of unconsciousness but he needs to fight it, he needs to leave this place.

A rough pair of hands are placed on his cheeks, cupping his face and lightly nodding him awake, a cool metal on one finger bringing him some relief, the presence of other figures lingered around his chair. Karan pries his eyes open to see who was holding him so softly in such a situation.

“Karan.” The voice was distant and somewhat muffled but it was enough for Karan to feel safe. 

Ajay.

He allows himself to fall unconscious again as his head drops back, Ajay’s hand moving down to what he assumed was the material holding him down. 

‘Ajay’s here. It’ll be okay.’ is Karan’s last thought as he lets the darkness take over. 

Ajay manoeuvred his bike through the small lanes, his heart thudding in his chest since the phone call this morning. His friends from the air force had been quite enthusiastic but he couldn’t help notice a slight nervousness lingering in their tones, making him uneasy.

He shudders with the sight he’s met with in the shed. 

Karan. Tied up to a wooden chair but unscathed for the most part.

“Are you all mad!?” He seethed at his friends who now stood behind the large metal table, shivering in their boots from his sudden wrath. “I don’t care about who did what!” Ajay rages as they rush to justify the scene. “I’ve told you before that Karan has nothing to do with any of this. If his dad finds out we’ll all be in jail before we can even devise a plan to get justice for Shaheed. I’m going to take him home.”

As if on cue, Karan groans and everyone's attention snaps to the chair.

“Karan.” It’s a soft whisper at first and the other frozen figures only move slightly towards the chair as Ajay rushes towards it, crouching before it, calling his friend a few more times before moving to release him. Ajay didn’t know if anyone in the room was protesting his actions and frankly enough did not care enough to know, he threw Karan over his shoulder and left the small room.

Karan groaned as Ajay slowly lowered him onto his bed. 

“Doctor ko bulau kya Maa?” He asks as Mrs Rathod’s frown deepens. (Should I call the doctor Maa?)

“Pehle hua kya hai? Yeh toh batao! Behosh kyun hai Karan?” (Firstly, what happened? Tell me! Why is Karan unconscious?)

“Maa abhi main aapko kuch bhi nahi bata sakta hoon. Please samajhne ki koshish kijiye!” (Mum I can’t tell you anything right now. Please try to understand!)

“Mujhe nahi bata sakte ho toh doctor ko kya bataoge? Karan ke uthne ke baad dekhte hain ke doctor ko bulana hai ya nahi.” Mrs Rathod sighs in frustration and turns on her heels, stomping out of the room. (If you can’t tell me anything, what will you tell the doctor? We’ll see if we have to get a doctor after Karan wakes up.)

Ajay sighs, fingers curled and pulling at his hair as he sits next to Karan’s limp thighs. Tears welled in his eyes but he refused to cry, his back seared with pain and his knees and ankles throbbed not completely healed from the protest. He uncurled the fingers in his hair and brought one hand down to rest his chin in, the other falling limply in his lap and he bit his nails, deep in thought about everything that could’ve gone wrong, everything that could have happened that day or today or any day. His voice gets caught in his throat and his stomach flips at the thoughts of how everything could take a turn for much worse now. 

A pained moan from his unconscious friend broke the glass that enclosed his thoughts. Ajay’s head turned so fast  it was a miracle he didn’t get whiplash. Ajay holds his breath for a second before Karan settles down again, slowly breathing out; he clamps Karan’s hand on his own and kisses his cold knuckles. 

Ajay resolves to watch Karan, their fingers intertwined above the cotton sheets as the minutes tick by as slowly and quickly as possible. His trance shatters as Mrs Rathod comes in with medicines and a phone number written on a paper. She spares the duo a single glance before sauntering out of the room. Ajay sighs, eyeing the framed photos of him and his mother and his friends by his bedside table as he wonders when he can be rid of these secrets. Suddenly, a flint of light hits the edge of the engagement ring laying hauntingly by the frames. Ajay drops Karan’s hand quickly, like it was laced with poison and the guilt overwhelmed him.

“I can’t do this anymore.”

“What?”

“I can’t do this anymore, Ajay. Please.” Sonia is holding back a sob and Ajay just sinks into the bed.

“Okay Sonia. We don’t have to do anything if you’re not up

to it. Do you still want to sleep over though?” He asked innocently, offering up a pillow.

“No Ajay. I can’t pretend anymore. I can’t do it anymore.”

Her eyes plead him to understand, please him to forgive.

“Sonia, I don't understand. What’s wrong? What happened?” He asks, gathering her face in his hands, she huffs, unable to look at him. “Sonia come on, we can fix this-”

“How? Convincing ourselves that time will heal it all or just ignore who we are for the rest of our lives!” She hisses, on the edge of tears. Ajay blinked, he brought his hands back to his lap and turned his face to them.

“I-I don’t-” He cut himself off with the shake of his head.

“You still love him. You never stopped and you could never love me the way you love him.” She pauses to control the shake of her voice. “And my heart also belongs to another. We were fooling the world and more importantly ourselves.” She scoffed.

“Riya?” Ajay questions.

“Was my roommate last year, she’s in Bombay now. Waiting for me.” She reveals hesitantly. “We were only friends till the night before she had to leave.”

“So she’s the reason you’re looking for universities in mumbai?” He asks with a thick voice. Sonia nods tearfully. 

There is a long silence, guilt, helplessness and anger lace the fragile air around them.

“You said yes to the proposal?” He sighed, glancing at her, she cocked a brow. “Fooling the world and ourselves?” She nodded, pursing her lips.

“I will always love you Ajay, you will always be my Pucchu.” Sonia watches fondly, wiping her face as Ajay lets out a watery chuckle. “But I can’t live this lie and you know deep down that you can’t either. I will always be there for you just not as your life partner but your best friend, I promise.” He lurches forward and she welcomes him with the warmest arms and embrace. Their sobs are imbalanced and tiredness eventually takes over.

Ajay woke up to a cold bed and the ring laying flat on his table.

Ajay is snapped out of his memories of the night before as Karan groans, slowly stirring back to consciousness.

“‘Ugh fuck.” He moans trying to sit up.

“Shh Karan. It’s alright, lie back down. Are you okay? Do you need a doctor? How are you feeling?” Ajay asks, rushing up to help Karan lie back down.

“Damn let a man wake up before bombarding him with questions.” Karan groaned, gratefully accepting Ajay’s help.”Theek ho, bas a little woozy.” He replied, blinking rapidly. (I’m fine, just a little woozy.)

“Okay. Do you need anything? Water? Something to eat?”

“Nahi. I’m fine.Theek hoon Ajay.” Karan urged. (No. I’m fine. I’m fine Ajay.)

Karan blinks and breathes out, his figure shudders against the headboard. Ajay awaits the dreaded but unavoidable question. He can see Karan’s eyes calculating and thinking, replaying every detail thoroughly before his lips open and close. Ajay bites the inside of his lip.

“Stop doing that. You’ll bleed.” Karan scolds in a somehow nonchalant tone. Ajay releases the inside of his lip and rubs the back of his neck sheepishly.

Karan blinked again, groaning internally as the lines in his vision stayed blurred. He pinched the bridge of his nose with his eyes closed, opening them after three long breaths but to no avail, so he played the day again, the event that led him to Ajay’s room. He remembered very little details that were tainted and unclear. Even with the edges bleeding into each other, Karan could make out Ajay’s tense and nervous posture sitting close to his hips. 

“Toh?” Karan cocked a brow, watching expectantly as Ajay avoided his gaze. (So?)

“Toh?” Ajay asks back, his voice coated in strangled nonchalance and avoidance. (So?)

“Achcha. Toh mujhe basically kidnap karke mujhe wajah bhi nahi bataoge? Prefect.” Karan mutters sarcastically, his head thrumming with every word and breath. Ajay sighs in defeat and takes Karan’s rough hand into his own. (Okay. So you’ll basically kidnap me and not give me an explanation? Perfect.)

“Karan, iss duniya main tumse zyada mujhe koi samajhta nahi hai.” Ajay lifts his other hand to cup Karan’s left cheek. “I’m sorry. Yeh sab hona nahi chahiye tha and I’m really really sorry. Lekin tumhare sawalon ka jawab abhi nahi deh sakta hoon.” (Karan, no one in this world understands me more than you do. I’m sorry. None of this should have happened and I’m really really sorry. But I cannot give you the answers to your questions right now.)

Now Karan is the one that finds himself unable to meet his friend’s eyes.

“You once said that you’ll always stand for the right thing Jay and I expect that much from you. But if anything happens to you it will break us. All of us. Especially Sonia and Maa. Just promise me that you’ll be alright and whatever you’re doing will not cost you yourself.” Karan ignored the thrumming as Ajay sat in silence, a small half smile gracing his lips.

“I’m going to make everything right Karan, no matter what it takes.” Slowly the air around them turns smooth, the slightest movement threatens a crinkle in the moment. The warmth of Ajay’s hand on Karan’s cheek is sweet, like the flames of a fireplace on dark, lonely winter nights. And when Karan can finally meet his eye it’s like everything falls back into place, the last piece of the puzzle is found. 

‘Sonia was right. It’s him. It will always be him.’ Ajay melts at the thought. Everything he ever needed was right in front of him, who wouldn’t completely melt at that sight. 

But of course, the air was broken as his bedroom door flung open and Ajay’s hands dropped back into his lap.

“Karan beta you're up? Ajay bataye kyun nahi? Karan tum theek ho na? Kya hua tume?” Maa asked hurriedly checking Karan’s temperature. (Karan son you’re up? Ajay, why didn’t you tell me? Karan are you alright? What happened?)

“Maa main theek hoon. Kuch nahi hua hai mujhe. Bas chakkar aake gir gaya.” Karan lies and he knows Mrs Rathod can see right through it but it’s the least he could do to ease her mind. She sighs and hands him some water. (Mum I’m fine. Nothing’s happened to me. I just got dizzy and fainted.)

“Sue ka phone aaya tha. Woh sab wait kar rahe hain tum dono ke liye.” She explains and gives Karan a sweet smile that calms Karan’s wounds. She gives Ajay a sharp look before leaving the two boys alone again. (Sue called. They all are waiting for the two of you.)

“Fuck!” Ajay throws his head back. “The documentary! Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Oh yeah. We should get going, I’m fine, don’t worry about me.” Karan mumbled, throwing the sheets off himself. 

They’re all seated on and around the couch in Sue’s apartment, breaths held and legs bobbing with anticipation. Karan watched as Sonia’s red eyes avoided his own and she played with empty, ringless fingers. 

The documentary starts and in the beginning it’s weird seeing himself on a screen but Karan slowly delves into the story that he almost forgets he’s looking at himself. And it’s intriguing, infuriating and inspiring in all the right ways. 

When it ends Karan is more angry than he should be. He thinks all of it was nothing, the state of this country today does not do justice to their deaths. Red clouds their vision, they can almost hear it rush by them but nothing was happening and it made all of them uneasy with impatience. 

“Well that was intense.” Ajay mutters. “Wow Sue, you really know how to tell a story.”

There are mere “hmphs” in agreement. 

Sue leans over to Ajay.

“I think they all need a drink.” Sue whispers, Ajay stifles a chuckle.

“Not their fault you know, it’s your fault actually.” Ajay jokingly blames her and she throws him a playful punch to the arm. 

They end up in an empty bar, awkward and tense silence creating a fragile air as Ajay and Sue look at each other cluelessly. 

“So?” Sue clears her throat. “What did you guys think? Any thoughts? Feedback?” There were a few beats of silence.

“It was really good Sue! I think you did justice to their stories. Let’s drink to that! Sue you’re a genius.” Ajay complimented.

“Thank you Ajay.” Everyone raised their glasses but seemed to be on their own train of thought. As they drown their drinks, Aslam and Laxman share a look, a silent agreement that DJ and Sukhi mirror. But Karan had one question whirling round in his head.

‘What do I have to do with any of this? Ajay obviously knew the people who took me last night so what links me to whatever issue Ajay has going on?’ The thoughts lingered and he felt helpless. Then he makes a decision, he’s going to get to the bottom of everything and he’s going to fix it, whether he’s involved or not.

Chapter Text

Ajay was furious. He didn’t know how else to phrase it. Although he had just watched a heart wrenching documentary and had his engagement broken, all he could picture was Karan’s limp body tied to a disgustingly creaky, wooden chair. It felt like a bad dream, watching a half conscious Karan struggle against merciless bindings as he stood by, in shock for a few moments before rage filled him again.

He hated the feeling. He was never one to get angry quickly and on the rare occasion he was, he would walk away, breathe and come back to the situation at hand with a calm mind. But these days anger seemed to consume him, he couldn’t think straight, he couldn’t breathe. The anger had taken over.

He pushed open the creaky door, letting it fall shut as he huffs exaggeratedly to show his anger. The air felt cold and bit at his skin as eyes stared at him, filling him with heat that further boiled the blood running through his veins.

“Ajay-“

“I don’t want to hear anything, Sumit. I’ve told you a million times to leave Karan out of it. And you didn’t listen to me.” Ajay stated coldly, moving towards the metal table towards the centre.

“But Ajay he co-”

“He doesn’t know anything!” Ajay states angrily, beginning to feel like a broken record on replay. “And if you were going to suggest using him as an incentive then like I said, his dad would have had us in jail before we can even begin to get to the bottom of all this.”

“So what do we do now?”

“I don’t know Maya, but we need to be quick.” Sumit voices, his sharp eyes furrowing in concern. She tucks her brown hair behind her ear and starts shuffling through the papers drawn out on the table, Sumit joins her staying weary of Ajay.

“Rohan, do you know anyone that can get us into the defence minister’s office?” Ajay asks, walking to the tall man leaning against the opposite side of the table.

“No, I think we’re better off circling him throughout the day, it’s possible we won't even find anything in his office.” Rohan explains in his gruff voice. Ajay opens his mouth to say something but the creaking of the shed door sends everyone on high alert. Maya reaches to grip the gun in her back pocket and Ajay begins to softly nudge towards the back corner of the room, where more weapons were kept on the chair his friend was tied to yesterday. They share curious glances as the door opens ever so slowly.

A familiar cologne wafts in the air and the door slowly reveals Karan, in the most dramatic manner. Karan stood there in place of the door, a cigarette in one hand and his head titled as he took in the little shed. Maya still has her hands on the gun and Ajay is the only one that relaxes at the sight of Karan.

“Karan? What are you doing here?” Ajay asks, walking up to close the door as his friend walks in, crushing the butt of the cigarette with the heel of his shoes.

“You’re very easy to follow.” Karan states. “Hi, I’m Karan but I think you know that.” Karan nods to the three tensed strangers that kept staring at him. He walks forward into the room but Ajay reels him back with a firm grip on his upper arm.

“Yahan kya kar rahe ho tum?” Ajay asks through gritted teeth. (What are you doing here?) Karan pulls his arm out of Ajay’s grip.

“I won’t ask any questions. I just want to help Ajay.” Karan demands in a low voice, the three onlookers still staring at them. Ajay sighs, placing a soft hand on Karan’s shoulder.

“Karan, it’s not right. You shouldn’t be here. Go home, now.” Ajay pushes past him and walks towards the large table.

“I’m staying, whether you like it or not. I know that what you all are doing has something to do with Flight Lieutenant Shaheed Bashir.” A chill fills the room. “I want to help. I can be of help. My dad knows the defence minister, if there’s something fishy going on then we can get to the bottom of it and I can help! You wouldn’t have kidnapped me otherwise.”

The mention of his dad bought a confirmation that everyone but Karan felt as he continued to convince Ajay and the strangers as Ajay pressed his palms into the table with closed eyes.

“I think you’d be a great help.” Sumit perks up, finally realising that Ajay had been telling them the truth the entire time. “Won’t he Ajay?”

“Thanks.” Karan mutters sheepishly, a little confused but mostly anticipating Ajay’s reaction. “Ajay?”

Ajay sighs heavily and pushes off the table, pushing right past Karan and slamming the shed door on his way out.

“Let him cool off for a bit.” Rohan says as Karan begins to turn to the door. “I’m Rohan, welcome to the team Karan. And I’m sorry about our last encounter.”

“Sumit.” Sumit reaches a hand out to Karan and Maya finally lets go of the gun to cross her chest.

“I’m Maya.” She says with a courteous nod, still somewhat suspicious. Karan shakes Sumit’s hand and nods in acknowledgement to the other two.

Maya glances at Rohan questioningly and Rohan, who suddenly felt inclined to not doubt Karan anymore, just shook his head and got back to the paperwork. Sumit brought Karan around to the table and started to catch him up on their plan so far.

As slyly as she could, Maya took some papers off the table and folded them away into another desk’s drawer, Sumit gave her a nod of gratitude.

After catching Karan up on their current but non-solid plan Rohan goes out to check on Ajay. He circles the entire area a couple of times before giving up.

“He’s not out here. I think he left.” Rohan informs the other three. Karan sighs and grabs his keys.

“I know where he is. I should go talk to him.” Karan says, stopping as he reaches the door. “Thank you.” He says giving them one final nod as he walks out.

Ajay sulks, his tailbone sinking into the grass and spine softening, the ducks in the nearby pond swimming and ducking themselves into the water ever so often. It’s still a little early into the day but the sky is dull with clouds hovering everywhere.

He doesn’t care to know how long he’s been here till he can hear Karan’s footsteps slowly approaching him from behind.

Ajay doesn’t look at Karan when he’s sitting down, he simply grabs the glass of chai placed by his folded knees and begins sipping it.

Minutes of unbearable silence go by and Ajay gets agitated with every second. Ajay snaps. It’s not anything remotely violent, he groans and lets out a breath grabbing the cigarette that Karan had just placed between his lips right out of his mouth.

Karan frowns, Ajay never smokes.

“Tumhara problem kya hai? Kyun kar rahe ho yeh sab?” Ajay lashed out.(“What’s your problem? Why are you doing all of this?”) Karan was a little taken back, he knew Ajay would be hesitant and protective but never did he guess his friend would be angry. Ajay sighed, he knew it was wrong of him to yell and Karan’s soft expression reminded him of just that. “Karan- I’m sorry I shouldn’t yell but you shouldn’t be doing this. You shouldn’t be involved at all, it’s all so complicated and I don’t want you to get caught up in this.” Ajay explains. Karan places a comforting hand on Ajay’s shoulder, and the pilot feels the warmth spread from his shoulder to his collarbone and directly to his chest where his heart lay, beating in full force. The light squeeze sends an electric current through his body and for some reason it all takes him back to the first time he and Karan became friends. And this realisation of his love surpassing friendship for Karan makes all this so much harder.

“Ajay,” The pilot’s heart beats faster at the softness in his own name. “Every difficult journey we’ve had since we met was possible to get through because we had each other. You can’t push me away now, I won’t let you.” Karan says, knowing full well that Ajay needs him. Ajay stays silent, letting Karan’s words float in the air before they settle into his mind. Karan’s phone buzzes in between them, lying coldly on the grass.

“I'm just afraid of how this will all affect you when it’s over.” Ajay admits.

“I know my dad knows all the people involved and maybe he knows something. I grew up around those people, I know them and their games. If it affects me then so be it, all of this is so much more than just one person. It’s about people who make a difference. You taught me that we have to be the change we want to see.”

Ajay looks at him with softened eyes.

“Who are you and what have you done with my best friend, Mr. Karan ‘there is no hope for this country, main America chala’ Singhania?” Ajay jokes while taking a sip of his chai, the heavy air between them melts away with the soft sound of the wind. (Who are you and what have you done with my best friend, Mr. Karan ‘there is no hope for this country, I’m off to America’ Singhania?)

“Woh sudhar gaya.” Karan replies wittily. (He’s reformed.) In that moment, when their eyes finally meet everything feels warm again, it could be that the sun had come out of its hiding or just the warmth that radiated from their souls and smiles.

“Sab kuch badalne wala hai na?” Karan asks innocently, struggling to understand the severity of everything going on around him. (“Everything is going to change right?”)

Ajay can only nod with a despondent smile. “Everything is already changing Karan.”

They sit in a familiarly comfortable silence, just watching as the world goes by as Karan’s phone buzzes again. Ajay peers at the name that flashes across the screen, he bites the inside of his cheek as Karan glances at it but doesn’t bother replying just yet.

“So when did you and Aslam start being so cosy with each other?” It comes out more as a statement than a question. “I mean you both are friends I know that but you’ve grown noticeably close.” Karan’s brows furrow as Ajay shrugs, moving his eyes to the grass beneath them. “Don’t act so innocent Singhania sahab (sir), I’ve noticed all the sneaking off during parties, painting- actually vandalising walls together and he even handed you his little poetry diary, which he never shows anyone. And now he’s texting you every ten minutes.” Ajay mumbles and he could continue but Karan’s smug and amused expression halted his words.

“Oh Ajay, no need to get so jealous, you’re still my best friend.” Karan teases, trying to hold in his laughter.

“I’m not- I was just asking. I don’t-. You know what, forget it.” Ajay turns his head away from Karan as a smile lingers on the corners of his lips. “You’re enjoying this a little too much don’t you think?” He questions as he can hear Karan chuckle.

“Gosh you’re so jealous. I wonder how Sonia handles you.” Karan mumbles, still laughing. Ajay shrinks.

“I don’t think that’s happening anymore.” He looks over to Karan who has stopped laughing now, “Me and Sonia I mean. It’s over.” He watches, one by one confusion, shock, worry and understanding cross Karan’s face.

Karan hums, simply connecting all that he had observed with Ajay’s words. “Yeah I know I proposed and everything. Don’t get me wrong, we still love each other but not in the way we thought we did I suppose.” Ajay explains, the silence turns heavy and sombre.

“Whatever it was, was meant to happen na? Kismat (kismet) or some shit like that.” Karan mumbles, Ajay hums in agreement.  “You gonna be okay?”

“Yeah it was a mutual decision. Sort of.” Ajay lets out a breathy half-chuckle as he remembers the way Sonia had knocked some sense into him as he desperately clung on to their woven fantasy. Karan doesn’t ask what it means, knowing Ajay will tell him eventually, when he’s meant to know. But he’s unsure of how to process this confirmation of the doubts he had, he had always thought that Ajay and Sonia were perfect together and that they could work through it all together.

Ajay shifts closer, leaning his head against Karan’s shoulder as his eyes fall closed, taking him back to the last time they were sat like this.

Ajay had to leave in five hours. Air force training was not going to be a walk in the park and he was quite aware of that, he was more so nervous about leaving everything behind.

He was sat the edge of the bed looking directly out the large window, his best friend less than a metre away from him, lying peacefully under a pile of blankets. It takes Ajay a moment to rip his eyes away from Karan and back to the view ahead of him. Lately his stomach flipped in a vile way when he thought about Karan, about how he was making Karan feel. But what was a man who couldn’t figure out his own feelings meant to do in a situation as such. Ajay knows one thing, if he were Karan, he wouldn’t have tolerated this.

“Kya hua Ajay?” Karan asks in a groggy voice that Ajay has heard and admired countless times. (”What happened Ajay?”)

Before he can even think to respond, Karan sits at the edge of the bed as well, leaning forward, elbows on knees. “I know your life is going to change in five hours but this is your dream. Follow it.” Karan says, reading Ajay’s silence like a song he’s memorised all the verses of.

“Maa akeli pad jayegi na?” Ajay’s guilt will never cease, Karan can sense it. (”Maa will become lonely won’t she?”)

“Maa ka khayal main rakhunga. Aur Sonia ka bhi.” Karan promised in plain words. (”I will take care of Maa. And Sonia too.”)

Ajay looks at him with surprise in the dark. He’d not thought about Sonia, let alone mention her yet. It’s a sore spot, though neither of them mention it. Ajay knows what he’s done, he put his best friend on the backburner for a girl, a rather pretty and intelligent girl. He knows that Karan is slowly reclining back into the shell Ajay found him with, the sunglasses stay on even when he’s alone with Ajay, the smoke breaks are more frequent and he stops talking, only responds with as little as possible. It’s all because Ajay is abandoning him, just like many others have.

Of course Sonia was not to blame, Ajay was. Ajay knew that he crossed the line between spending time with your new girlfriend and completely abandoning your old friend. It started off slowly, pulling away a little too quickly from hugs, then it grew, ignoring Karan’s messages and calls, ditching him at parties to follow Sonia around but it really hammered into Karan’s heart when Ajay had spent the most difficult day for Karan ignoring and avoiding him. It was his mother’s death anniversary, a day usually filled with tears, alcohol and lots of memories that sometimes made Karan tremble in pain. And Ajay knew everything that he did and he knew how much it hurt Karan but his fear pushed him. His fear damned the best friendship he’s ever had, as fear does usually.

“Speaking of Sonia,” Karan starts. “ Shouldn’t you be with her now? Whisking her off for a night out.”

‘Like you used to do with me.’ Is heard but not said.

Ajay tries to find a twinge of bitterness but it’s not there, there is a question, so easily fitted into the words that you’d miss it if you weren’t looking for it.

“Tum Maa aur Sonia kha khayal rakhoge?” Ajay repeats, avoiding the other question. (”You’ll look after Maa and Sonia?”) Karan nods sincerely. “Aur tumhara khayal kaun rakhega?” (”And who will look after you?”)

Karan’s smile is only half present. “Mera fikar mat karna Ajay, main apna khayal rakh saktha hoon.” (”Don’t worry about me Ajay, I can look after myself.”)

Ajay cringes, he wants to tell Karan that he’s afraid of leaving him behind and he’s afraid of the butterflies he gets when Karan just holds his gaze and the way his heart yearns for Karan’s affection but his mind has been taught that this was no way of life. He has to look past these feelings, he has to move ahead and not get caught up in what was meant to be just an experiment.

It was just a little bit of fun between two close friends, that’s all.

He tries desperately to convince himself of that.

“Karan, you’re family. I’ll always worry about you.”

And for the first time in a long while, Karan really looks at Ajay. With warm eyes that were vulnerable again, no glass shield protecting him or his emotions.

Yet Ajay still couldn’t read him, not the way he used to.

“I’m gonna miss you yaar.” Ajay says, seeking something back from Karan. There’s a small smile in return, a hint of bitterness, Karan was only human after all.

“Go see Sonia one last time, she’ll be happy if you do. I’ll cover for you if you need me to.” Karan says, shifting further to the other side of the bed, Ajay was afraid he’d fall off the side.

Ajay, with furrowed brows, shifted closer to Karan. Sure, he should be with Sonia but why wouldn’t Karan believe that he wanted to spend his last few moments in Delhi for a while with him. Ajay was the one who asked him to stay over, Ajay was the one who asked him to drop him off at the station as well.

Ajay thought back to Sonia, and a part of him did hold her dear but could anyone take Karan’s place in his life? No, what Karan and he had was far more special than any word in any language can describe or label and now here he was pushing all that away from him. And Karan was just watching him walk away.

He shuffled as close as he could to Karan, wrapping his arms around one of Karan’s and just letting his head rest on Karan’s shoulder. Ajay fingers slowly dancing around Karan’s forearms as the younger man tensed for a moment before relaxing into the pose of comfort.

“I’m going to miss you too Ajay.”

Ajay wanted to be here tonight and for now that was that.

Ajay shudders at the memory and everything that happened after it.

Ajay knew he had a decision to make. He spent 52 weeks of training both avoiding and submerging himself into his situation.

He couldn’t ignore the sensations that rose in his chest when he thought about Karan but it was just a small part of him that was aware, small enough for him to push down and away before it grew unbearable.

Somehow the topic had come up between his training group, the topic of same sex relationships, Ajay remained quite. He listened as his peers shunned and mocked relationships he couldn’t find anything wrong with.

Rather it made him think about how they would be treated if Ajay acted on his impulses. Something clouded Ajay’s heart and mind at that moment and the decision was made.

Sonia was all he was allowed to see in his future.

And he wanted to tell Karan first. So he picked up a pen and though he had not called or written to Karan since he left Delhi, he had this urge to tell Karan about his love for Sonia.

Now looking back, he knew it was a goodbye letter. But he returned from training and Karan was at the station with Maa and Sonia. A wide smile plastering his face, like nothing at all had happened they embraced each other. An unspoken hope that their friendship had not been compromised but in their hearts they knew nothing could ever be truly like before.

For Karan it was a confirmation letter. A letter that told him he was nothing more than an experiment, something “new” to try. That’s all he will ever be to most people, but most of all to Ajay.

He was happy that Ajay had found love but some part of him had wished it was with him. The letter was a sour memory no matter how much Karan tried to fake that it was a fine one. He had the letter, towed away with the rest of the memories he had with the pilot of their days together.

Karan knew who and what he was by the time Ajay had returned and it was too frightening to think about, so he stowed it away into a part of his mind that he never unlocked.

But he had a choice here, the pilot had won his heart and he wanted to be something in Ajay’s life and nowhere did Ajay say he would be gone. So he became Ajay’s friend, he tried his best to at least.

Everywhere Ajay went Karan followed. Supporting him in everything and calling for him and being by his side and much to Karan’s surprise, Ajay reciprocated. And with enough practice they were able to pretend well enough. It was nerve wracking.

Yet here they were again, treading the thin line between what they felt and what they were told was meant to be.

Chapter Text

The team are welcoming to Karan. As welcoming as they can be with the given circumstances. Ajay made them promise they would not tell Karan the details of his involvement, he had to be the one that broke it to Karan, only he could convince Karan that it wasn’t his burden to carry.

And Karan kept his promise, did not ask any questions, just kept his head down as Ajay and his friends went through the motions of it all.

But of course, that is not to say they didn’t have their moments of disagreement.

“I just don’t think that’s the most efficient plan.” Karan states firmly.

“So you’re calling us stupid?” Rohan accuses angrily.

“No! Not at all!” Karan defends, throwing the silent Ajay a look of helplessness.

“Listen Singhania, we spent that past month and a half making this plan.” Maya states. “A month and a half of following these people around, learning their schedules in and out! A month and a half of sleepless nights and tiring days! You do not get to waltz in here and tear it down. Gosh you didn’t even know Shaheed.” The pain in her voice is greater than the anger.

“It’s not stupid! It’s a great plan.” Karan states, afraid to tell them how taken back he was not only by the plan but also Ajay’s willingness to go along with it as well. They were going to murder people, and sure it worked in the past, but things had changed now, they had to work harder.

“But?” Sumit probes.

“But what happens after?” Reluctant realisation dawns on the group of pilots. Karan continues. “We’ll be taken to jail. Life imprisonment or the death sentence for killing these people. The media will talk about us for a couple of weeks, people will riot for maybe a day or two, then what? It’ll be forgotten after the next scandal.”

“But at least they’ll all be dead, they won’t be able to hurt good innocent people like Shaheed again.” Sumit argues.

“And what makes you so sure that the people that come after them won’t follow their paths? I can’t even imagine the anger and rage you’re feeling, I didn’t know Shaheed, but I know these people and I know the influence they come under. I grew up around them. It’s a relentless cycle, it won’t change, not even with death.” Karan counters.

“Then how do we change this cycle? Since you know it all rich boy.” Maya says with a scoff.

“We have to figure that out together.” Rohan says, understanding Karan’s take much quicker than the others.

“Killing them is only a temporary solution.” Karan states.

“What if it was me?” The question slips Ajay’s mouth before he can stop it. Karan’s stood towards the side of him, leaning away from the table as Ajay rested his arms on it. With the expression on Karan’s face Ajay can tell it’s not the first time this scenario had dawned on the younger man. Ajay felt the room melt away for a moment, it was just him and Karan in this moment, anger confusion and fear danced like towering flames in Karan’s eyes and Ajay had received his answer.

“Okay so what’s the new plan?” Ajay drops his eyes to the table, pretending the question had never even crossed his mind let alone roll off his tongue.

“Well, we have a lot of information. All the research you guys have done, we can tail them.” Karan suggests.

“And then what?” Maya asks, still unimpressed.

Rohan gives Karan an encouraging look. Karan thinks hard, breaking into a sweat under the looks.

“They must have some paperwork about it.” He mumbles. Sumit snickers.

“You think they have paperwork for this?” He asks in a crude tone.

“They most definitely would.” Karan stated. Sumit’s raised brow probes him. “They have paperwork for very deal, legal or illegal, it doesn’t matter. Paperwork is to keep themselves safe in any situation. Helps with shady overseas businessmen too.”

“So?” Maya probes.

“So we raid the offices.” Ajay completes. Karan nods.

“Easier said than done. How do we get in rich boy?” Maya asks.

“We could become guards.” Karan states bluntly.

“Uniforms?” Rohan asks.

“You kidnapped me can’t you steal a couple of uniforms?” Karan shrugs. Ajay sniggers. “That was a joke. I know a guy who’ll stitch them for us within a day or so, he’s quiet. I’ll say it’s for a college fest or something. “

The plan is still quite risky but if they’re caught at least, it wouldn’t be a matter of their lives.

“I assume you guys have some sort of protection?” Karan asks.

“Protection?” Sumit raises a brow. Karan nods.

“You know, a weapon of some sort. Not necessarily to use but just in case.”

“Yeah, we do” Maya points to a locked cabinet tucked under the desk. “But only three.”

“That’s enough.”

“I’ll get my own.”

Ajay and Karan say at the same time.

“Woah calm down. You’re not coming with us. It could be dangerous.” Ajay states.

“When I said I was in Ajay I meant all in.”

“And if someone recognises you there?” Ajay questions.

“No one will, and we will be there after hours so no one will be there to recognise me.” Karan argues.

“No. You’re not going. Don’t argue with me on this Karan.”

“You don’t get to decide what I can and cannot do. I-” Karan is cut off by Maya clearing her throat.

“Can you both finish your couples quarrel later?” She asks with an annoyed grunt, tucking a piece of hair the fell loose from her bun behind her ear. “Let’s finish planning and once you both figure out who will be joining us, we can assign jobs.”

There’s about another hour of planning or so, it’s a wild unsettled plan but Karan wasn’t going to let Ajay throw all his dreams away. He can still fight for what is right while being a pilot.

“You don’t have to do this.” Ajay says as they’re walking towards the group once they reach their university.

“Don’t I?” Karan asks with a muted sigh. “I have my own motives too. I know my dad has some place in all of this, I figured that much out. But I want to ground him, before he gets too involved with the wrong people.”

“You’re here to save him?” Ajay mutters, both their paces slowing down. Karan nods.

“I’m no saviour. It’s just- He’s all I have left. He’s not a bad father you know. He just lost his way after mum’s death, and I think in a way with mum I lost my dad too. This will help me show him that I’m still here. That I’m still his son you know?”

Ajay nods, the wind suddenly knocked out of his chest. He wondered how he was going to ever tell Karan the extent of his father’s involvement now.

Karan lets out a breathy half-chuckle. “I’m sorry, don’t know why I said all of that.” He pauses, clearing his throat. “Oh there’s everyone.” He mutters quickly picking up his pace.

Sonia meets Ajay’s eye as he follows behind Karan. She sends him a concerned questioning glance. He smiles sadly, reaching her first to embrace her before she can ask him anything.

He wanted her comfort, her familiarity, she offered it endlessly.

Karan plopped down next to Aslam, who was throwing a ball back and forth with Sukhi, he intercepts their throw, catching the ball and throwing it the other way to Sue, leaving Aslam and Sukhi with offended jaws gaping at his audacity. Karan and Sue just chuckled now taking over their game.

Laxman smirked, stealing the ball mid throw to pass it to Ajay.

“Laxman!” Sue and Karan yell in unison.

“Taste of your own medicine.” Laxman shrugs nonchalantly as Ajay bounces the ball back to him.

Aslam grins at the way Laxman fits with them now, no one questions his presence even with the documentary’s shooting all done.

Soon evening falls upon them and they make their way to the only place that is willing to feed them for free, Mitro’s dhaba. It’s a quiet weekday night at the dhaba as Mitro beams, inviting them all into her abode, twisting Sukhi’s ear, giving Aslam’s forehead a little kiss with love and blessing the engaged couple and expressing her excitement for their wedding. Sonia and Ajay shuffle awkwardly but spare a smile for each other.

Karan has never been openly affectionate with DJ’s mother, but he melts when she reaches over to him anyway, always pinning him as the silent one and coining him with Aslam and Ajay as an “acha bacha” (good kid) for his silent, uncomplaining nature.

He sighs, feeling content amongst his friends and their connection. Mitro overfeeds them and berates them about not eating enough, she swats away their protests and forces a third paratha onto all their plates.

He steps out to wash his hand when Sonia joins him. A reluctant yet desperate look on her face. Karan glances at her nonchalantly.

“He told you right?” Sonia asks, they glance haphazardly towards Ajay before quickly turning away. Karan nods.

“Are you okay?”

She sighs heavily with a nod. “I will be. I’m worried for him. There’s so much going on for him right now. I’m glad you’re there for him.”

“I’m here for you too,” Karan dries his hands then moves closer to her. “You’re as much my friend as he is.”

She holds his face gently with one hand, rubbing her thumb over his cheekbone as he smiles at the affection. “I know.”

Sonia knows there were so many times where Karan was with her through all her troubles, just silently being the shadow of support that she needed, especially when Ajay was not around.

He was the first one to make her laugh after her grandmother had passed, he drove her all the way home when her family dog, Shonu was sick and would calm her down when she gets anxious about Ajay not calling her on their usual scheduled time.

He never saw her as separate from the guys, never giving her the “bhabhi” (sister-in-law) treatment as the others did in the beginning. And it was clear his care and concern were so much more than his promise to Ajay, it was genuine and real from Karan’s own heart.

“And don’t worry, my lips are sealed.” Karan promises. “No one will hear anything from me before the both of you are ready.”

She smiles warmly at him, and he now cups her face with both his hands, hers still resting on his cheek. The rest of the group would have to strain to see them in this dark, so they enjoy their little private bubble for a second longer, basking in the comfort and warmth of their friendship.

“You both will be okay.” He whispers strength and hope into her. “I know you will.”

“I hope so. I still love him, just not in the way we hoped for I suppose.”

She presses her face into chest, and he holds her as she breathes deeply, calming the emotion that rises in her throat. She steps back after repeating the breaths a couple of times.

“Okay, now let’s get back before everyone thinks I’m a home wrecker.” Karan jokes, trying to lighten Sonia’s sudden sombre mood. She chuckles, she always does, no matter how terrible all her friends’ jokes are.

Karan couldn’t sleep that night. Even with all the comforts that Mitro provided for them on her rooftop. There was a strong twisting pain in his stomach that refused to unfurl. He stared up at the blank sky, eventually the dull changes lulled him into a sort lived slumber.

He sits up, slowly trying not to incite a creak from the cot. Ajay was standing at the edge of the balcony, looking up at the stars.

“You’re up too?” He asks, without turning around.

“Hmm” He stands up, joining his friend at the edge, at arms distance of course, maybe two arms. Karan opens his mouth to ask if Ajay’s okay, but he knows the answer and he knows the truth. Deciding it’s a stupid question he just sighs into the night as quietly as possible. Ajay looks at him and then back towards their friends, eyes glazing over the sleeping figures. Karan keeps his head turned up towards the dark starry night.

He can feel Ajay turn back to him and pause there. Ajay’s stomach flips, Karan looks so lost, not particularly in the stars but in his own thoughts. Karan pulls out a cigarette.

“Do you always keep them in your pocket? Even when you sleep?” Ajay shuffles the slightest bit closer. Karan simply shrugs. He did not want Mitro to see them, she knows that they smoke and drink, but Karan didn’t want to put them both in a situation where they’d awkwardly glance at each other, her with unapproving eyes and him with shame.

There’s silence and they’re both just standing there, Karan hoping the silence remained still and unsettled and Ajay hoping he would say something, anything.

Ajay shuffled as close as he could. “Remember when we used to sit like this in your first year. You loved the view from the terrace at home.”

It was true, Karan felt like if he stretched enough, he’d be able to light tap the stars around from Ajay’s terrace.

“That was so long ago.” Ajay’s so close that his breath scrapes the fabric of Karan’s shirt. He’s turned around now, body facing the sleeping friends, seated on the edge of the railing. Karan hums in agreement. “I miss that.” Ajay admits, resting his chin on Karan's shoulder.

“We were so young then.” We’ve changed.

“We were?” Ajay mumbles hopefully, a defeated sigh followed Karan’s silence. “I suppose we were Karan.”

The door creaks open and Karan wants to scoff bitterly at the way Ajay jumps away, but he holds back, he waits, knowing the confusion Ajay is seeping in. Mitro looks at the both of them in surprise.

“Tum dono abhi tak uthe hue ho?” (“You both are still awake?”) She scolds in a hushed voice. Karan drops the cigarette as quickly as he can.

“We’ll sleep soon Mitro.” Ajay promises, shuffling back towards Karan as the younger stares blankly at the spot he was just comfortably leaning against. She eyes them suspiciously but grabs the bottle of water she came for and heads back down.

Ajay softly reaches for Karan’s trembling hands, stopping the fingers that rubbed against each other in their tracks. Karan pulls away quickly.

“Don’t.” It’s so soft that even in the night’s silence Ajay wouldn’t have heard it if he weren’t invading Karan’s personal space.

“I have to tell you something.” Ajay reaches for his hands again. Karan finally looks at him, letting his hands rest within Ajay’s. Ajay should know this expression now, the blank look with eyes full of emotions guarded by a film of nonchalance. And he can tell Karan is tired, a weariness that reached his soul.

“Let’s talk tomorrow, okay? Just you and me.” Ajay asks, hoping his eyes gleamed with the hope he had in his heart. “Sleep now.”

Karan was tired. He was tired of never knowing, of never understanding, of always having to prepare himself. He knows when it’s dark and Ajay’s alone that he will seek him, but in front of others there’s a silence between them, a sudden rift that does not exist when they’re alone. He’s tired of guessing but never knowing. But he knows that he cannot be the place for Ajay’s lost romantic attention for Sonia, he will not be someone’s “time pass” till they move onto the next thing.

He wants to yell at Ajay, that he can’t pretend to love him one minute and then forget him the next, that he would not live his days out as an extended experiment or always his second choice. But he remains silent, knowing that would only cause Ajay pain and drive a wedge into the mask of friendship they’ve created. And why should he lose Ajay again? He doesn’t deserve that, not after he’s worked tirelessly to prove himself a worthy friend.

Guilt overpowers Ajay’s chest as he watches the confusion and anger pass Karan’s eyes. He’s angry when the final waver of realisation and acceptance wash over his friend.

Karan silently walks over to his bed; he deliberately chose the one farthest away from Ajay. When he lays down with his eyes closed, he hears a slight creaking and a soft thud that force his eyes open to double check their safety. It was Ajay, effortlessly picking up his own cot to shift it near Karan’s. He watches as the pilot leans over, placing a kiss on his temple before sitting down on his own.

The kiss was an apology, a plea for forgiveness as Ajay contemplates his actions and begins an attempt to decipher Karan’s feelings. And more importantly how to delicately break a truly unpleasant truth to his friend.

Karan wakes up before Ajay in the morning, Laxman is already awake he wakes up with the sun instead of sleeping until he’s forced awake like the rest of his friends. He glances at where Ajay’s cot was and where it laid now.

Karan shrugged, making his bed as the others slowly rose.

As he drove up his own driveway Karan decided that now was the time to mend a long-broken bridge. He sees his father’s car parked neatly into its designated spot and pulls up next to it. A deep breath relaxes him as he enters, peering over a pillar as his legs jerk forward in an attempt to run to his room as he usually does. But he waits unprovoked, his father peers up curiously at him.

“Hi Karan. Kahan se aa rahe ho?” (Hi Karan. Where are you coming from?) Rajnath asks in his clear even voice.

“Good morning Dad. Woh main DJ ke ghar rukh gaya. I thought you had a meeting in another city?” (I stayed over at DJ’s house.) Karan asked with half a smile plastered onto his face.

“That’s next week. Do you have college today?”

Karan nodded.

“Okay beta eat something and go. And get back to me about those universities.” Rajnath orders, Karan winces at the formality of their conversation.

“Actually, Dad,” Karan sighs heavily, feel a weight on his chest rising and falling with his breath. “I have already looked over a few, some of them are in the UK.”

Rajnath nodded. “Send me the list Karan and the one you’re seriously considering, whichever one you want to attend. We’ll go over it and decide. But I must go to the site now. Come home for dinner.”

“Bye Dad.” Karan mumbles, the beginning of a smile curling the corners of his lips as his dad waves him goodbye and turns towards the car.

It might be a long road, but Karan knows it’ll be worthwhile.

The smile on his face is unwavering as he freshens up to leave again. Not forgetting to give his mother’s picture a smile and a kiss before driving off.

The group sat with no purpose near the canteen. Staring into the abyss as the tv blabbered on about the corrupt state of their beloved country. The usual groans and ‘not this again attitude of the group was nowhere to be seen. Though their childish antics remained, a sense of will had knocked into them. The air was tense but only Ajay could feel it, his stomach flipped, a sense that something was going to change today, something was happening.

And it did. Karan stared intently at the tv as news of Shaheed’s sudden death was yet again a matter of debate on that wretched news channel. The others shared hasty glances back and forth, to Ajay and the small tv. Ajay sighs, unable to drown out the tv reporter’s monotonous voice.

“...in a turn of events it has been bought to light that businessman Rajnath Singhania is responsible...” Ajay did not need to hear anymore. His head turned to watch Karan so quickly that Sue winced at the movement. His friend’s shoulders had slumped, and that beautiful smile had dropped into a frown of confusion, gaping slightly in shock. Ajay held his breath as Karan’s eyes fluttered away from the tv to meet Ajay’s. Everyone had stopped to stare at Karan now, Laxman who was standing behind him had placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, squeezing it slightly.

Guilt or something akin to it had already settled into Karan’s heart, even as he was still trying to understand what had just been revealed.

“Let’s go.” Ajay stands abruptly changing the channel on the tv.

Chapter Text

The drive to Ajay’s favourite spot was eerily quite. Like they’d been going to a funeral.

Maybe it was. Karan thinks his dads actions may have more of an impact on his life than he realises. The more he avoids his father the more their lives intertwine.

Laxman drove as Karan barely noticed a thing around him, but Laxman kept glancing Karan’s way and wanting to say something but never finding the right time or words or being able to grasp Karan’s attention.

The car comes to a halt and everyone in the backseat files out one by one in utter silence, following Ajay up the stairs. Laxman stayed back, leaning into the driver’s seat as Karan just realised that they had reached their destination.

“Karan.” He calls the younger man before he can step out of the car. “You didn’t know. It’s not your fault.” He says simply, reconnecting how he still blamed himself for being a part of that wretched political party, how he still is trying to rid himself of that guilt. “I know what you’re feeling, I felt the same way about the party after the protest. Listen to me, no matter what anyone says, you are not at fault.”

Karan merely hums before hopping out of the car. Laxman follows promptly behind him.

“I think we finally have the chance to do something.” DJ says out of nowhere.

“What?” Ajay asks.

“You encouraged us to make our country better. Let’s start from here.” DJ clarifies in a rough, struggled tone. “If Karan knows something then maybe-”

“Karan doesn’t know anything.” Ajay states.

Ajay quietens down as Karan and Laxman approach the rest of them. He glances at quickly at everyone, some are confused, some angry, Ajay himself knows he can never feel one certain way about this.

There’s silence.

Unsettling, unnerving and unwavering silence.

One question lingers on everyone’s minds.

Now what?

“Did you know anything?” Sukhi asks after a long silence.

Silence.

“Karan I’m asking you something. Did you fucking know something?!” Sukhi repeats in a louder, angrier tone. He rushes to Karan, pushing him up against the wall, the newspaper crumpling between them.

“No, Sukhi I -” He doesn’t get to finish. The hand grabbing his collar tightens around it.

“Oh come on! You must’ve known something! The same blood runs in your veins too!”

That one hurt.

Sukhi doesn’t stop.

“Say something Karan! DJ ask him! Why are you all so quiet? Tell us! Was our friendship a ruse?” Sukhi’s voice breaks and Karan knows there’s a lot more behind this outburst than Sukhi was letting on, but still, it stings a little more than Karan can admit.

“Sukhi I’m sure if he-” Laxman tries to say something but it pushes Sukhi again.

“He would’ve what Laxman? Come on Pandey, what would he have done? He hates his dad! This is some twisted revenge ploy. He’s just been using us this entire time cause he think he’s different from the rest of his kind. No, no he’s just as selfish and opportunistic as them all. It was Shaheed this time and tomorrow? If it was someone you knew, if it was Ajay you all wouldn’t be this quiet!” Tears brim the edges of Sukhi’s eyes before they begin to fall, blurring his vision to the extent of his thoughts.

“Sukhi!” Sonia quietens him at once.

The question that has haunted everyone in the last couple of days was now bought into the open. And their anxieties weren’t irrational. Who will be next? How many more will go in vain?

Still, it’s quiet again. So Karan tries to speak again.

“I swear I-”

Sue interrupts him this time.

“Karan, we’re not saying anything, but if you do-. I mean we have an opportunity to do something here, I sure as hell am not going to keep quiet. We can finally do something that matters.”

“Sue I know but I don’t-”

“Khakee are you sure?” DJ probes. “ You didn’t overhear anything at home or-”

“Guys shut up! Not another word questioning Karan. I won’t hear it.” Ajay silences them all, his thoughts and emotions running twelves times the speed they usually do. He wonders why everyone is grieving a loss that hasn’t happened yet.

“Ajay I didn’t know.” Karan defends himself again, his voice heavy with an emotion he doesn’t want to acknowledge. Ajay nods.

“I know.”

Laxman steps up to Karan as he slides down the wall he was just pushed against. DJ comes to drag Sukhi away, pulling him into a hug and whispering comfort to him. Aslam, Sue and Sonia join the embrace but Laxman sticks by Karan and Ajay watches everything unfold from afar.

It’s silent again, only the loud, somewhat accusing glances thrown Karan’s way fill the air. The hot wind brushing their clothes back. into their sweat lined skin.

Karan huffs, standing as he reads the section of the paper again and again, his eyes running over his father’s photo over and over again, a question nags him. He folds the paper, eyes brimming with tears as he blinks them away.

“Did you know Ajay? Is this what we needed to talk about? That my dad,” He gulps, trailing off. Karan knew that Ajay knew, but he needed to hear it, hear the confirmation. Ajay nods. Karan scoffs bitterly. “You could’ve told me.”

“Karan.” Sonia says his name a stern voice, Karan’s insecurity hears a tinge of disgust behind it. “This isn’t easy for Ajay. You know that.”

“What would I have told you Karan? Especially after what you said about wanting to be there for him, to save him from the wrong hands.” Ajay remarks, defeatedly.

“The truth goddammit! The truth!” Karan is shaking, fingers grip the bridge of his nose as everything he knew turned to dust. “You asked me what I would’ve done if it was you,” There’s a strangled gasp but Karan can’t quite place who it came from. “I wouldn’t have thought twice before making it right, I’d cut the problem at its root.”

“Karan what are you saying?” Ajay needs him to articulate it properly, he needs to know exactly what his friend means. Karan sighs and turns, his back facing all of them.

“You know exactly what I’m saying.”

Ajay nods towards the stairs, urging the others to leave.

He gingerly approaches Karan, who, now that the others are gone gulps with a slight tremble in his shoulders. His mask down, his weakness revealed.

“Karan-”

“We’ll do it.” Karan nods. “Let’s finish them off, once and for all.”

Ajay looks at him with confusion. Ajay grabs his shoulder and turns him around.

“What? No Karan you literally made us realise that it wouldn’t change anything. Your dad being involved doesn’t change that, you know that right?” Ajay tenderly holds him by the shoulders, moving a hand to cup his cheek as tears begin to fall.

“I didn’t think- I never, I never thought he’d be capable of something like this.” Karan admits through heavy breaths.

“I know buddy. He made a bad decision-”

“He killed people Ajay!” Karan yells in frustration. “He killed people.” He now mutters in a pained voice through gritted teeth.

“I know.” Ajay sighs, pulling Karan into an embrace, knowing no words could make him feel any better right now.

Karan’s tears damped his shirt and his own fall into Karan’s hair.

The others wait at the bottom of the fort ruins, listening intently as the two above them whisper.

“He killed people Ajay!” Karan’s faint, pained yell makes it’s way to their ears.

Sukhi slides down the wall, closing his eyes.

“I shouldn’t have said any of that.” He mumbles. It’s quiet, confirming his thoughts.

“Well, if anyone is going to forgive you for something like that it’s Karan.” Aslam shrugs.

Sonia sighs and sits by Sukhi. “We are all anxious. We are all scared. As everyday passes I just wonder what’s going to happen when Ajay goes back. You’re not wrong, it could’ve been him. But we can’t turn on each other now, if anyone can help fix this it’s Karan. He knows what’s right and what’s wrong.” He leans his head on her shoulder as she speaks.

DJ knows Sukhi is scared. He was the one who held him as he cried from his nightmares. Trembling, afraid and unsure of where to keep all these bottled feelings, Sukhi the overthinker, the one who jumped to the worst conclusions, always, he was bound to be scared, to be upset.

“I think Ajay and Karan are already planning something, they just haven’t told us.” Sue says.

“What do you mean?” DJ probes.

“You haven’t noticed all the sneaking around they’re doing. They always come together in the morning looking exhausted, always whispering things to each other.” Sue raises her brow, Laxman is intrigued. “And Ajay’s three month break? From the air force? Seems like there’s something else going on.”

“Karan did say he needed something last night. But he said we needed privacy, that he’ll tell me when we’re alone.” Laxman admits. “I didn’t say anything cause it could be something personal.”

“Why would he ask you and not me?” Aslam asks, sounding slightly offended at the idea.

“That’s why it’s concerning.” Laxman shrugs.

“And how would Ajay even know about Karan’s dad supplying those parts?” Aslam raises.

Above them, Ajay and Karan are still in tears, silent and soft tears. Still pressed against each other despite the odds life has thrown at them.

“I should go talk to him, right?” Karan mumbles into Ajay’s shoulder.

“Not if you don’t want to. It’s entirely up to you.”

“I meant it you know. I wouldn’t let your love for this country become a laughing matter, I won’t let Shaheed’s either. Whatever it is we need to do I am ready to do it.” He pulls away, looking Ajay in the eye with all the determination he can muster.

“We have a plan. We will find a way to change this.” Ajay reassures. “Stay with me tonight.”

Karan nods, there was nowhere else he wanted to be except home.

When the two join the others again the air is still tense.

Karan lunges forward when Sukhi stands up, embracing his friend knowing they share the same fears.

“We’re gonna fix this Sukhi. I promise.” It mumbled so no one else heard the vow. Sukhi squeezes him, a silent apology for something long forgiven.

Upon reaching the Rathod household Karan begins to feel unsettled.

He questions whether he should be here after what had happened last time, after what was pushed out in the open today. But Ajay laces their fingers together and leads him up a passage he’s known for a while now.

Ajay’s pyjamas are soft against his skin, the blanket tucked gently under him as the fan whirrs noisily above them.

Karan’s weary soul just wants to sleep but he lies on his side, staring at the bare wall.

The same realisation of how all of this was so much more than it lead on to be repeats in him every night.

He feels helpless, pliant with the waves that kept throwing him at rocks before pulling him back to drown.

There’s a tug on his shoulder before he’s being turned around. His head meeting Ajay’s chest, the pilot concerned at how pliant his friend was in this moment.

Karan tenses when he processes that he’s in Ajay’s arms. He tries to move back but Ajay holds him gently.

“Shh. Just rest Karan.” Ajay’s fingers run through his hair, stroking his scalp lightly while the other arm rubs circles onto Karan’s shivering shoulder.

Karan melts into Ajay’s side, barely noticing the lips that press onto the top of his head and the sweet mumblings in his ear.

I want to stay here forever.