It takes her years to understand Randhir Singh Shekhawat. Much longer than it has ever taken her to grasp anything else. Some days, she is convinced that is the sole reason why she fell in love with him. Because he was a puzzle she couldn't solve, an enigma that kept her attention long enough, that gave love a chance.
He's become a habit for her, and she for him. And given the kind of people they are - fierce, hardheaded, dominant and self-centered - that is really saying a lot. That is perhaps more true to what they share, what they are to each other than anything those movies, books or cards describe.
They are each other's biggest competition, greatest confidant and most lethal addiction.
They mock the rose-tainted view of love and romance, scandalize the sanctity of the emotion and take great pride in doing so too. There was nothing sweet, cute or adorable about the way they met, or how their relationship progressed and there is nothing endearing about the way they handle each other even now, seven years since they crossed paths. And they work together despite of that. They work together because of that.
He's quite unlike any other man she has ever come across. Men in her life have always been clearly defined and labeled. There are guys like her elder brother and then there are those like Parth. Two extremes on opposite ends. And she had made the mistake of placing Randhir Singh Shekhawat in the former category. And then when she'd gotten to know him better, tried force fitting him in the latter. But what she finds, what she soon realizes though is that he fits neither. That he can't be (couldn't be, won't be) easily defined, neatly labeled. He was calm and chaotic, deep still lakes and high tides. Could as easily turn into a storming raging sea as a freefalling, reviving waterfall on whim. And it is this whim of his that's kept him constantly in her life. His whim to stay. In all forms, in every form, in every way.
The other side of the puzzle, the mystique, the mystery, the intrigue is his fascination (his obsession) with her. It defies all reason, fails all logic. Initially she treated it as a pesky fascination, and with time learnt to treat it with caution. An infatuation bound to fade and leave her bereft in with its absence. She tried tooth and nail to fight it. To deflect him. To throw him off. For she knew it was all about the chase and hunt, had heard of it, and seen it too. But after two broken engagements, and one drunken one night stand (with him, always him) she'd realized whatever this was, this thing he had for her wasn't going to fade and wane with time. No, if anything it only seemed to grow stronger, more hungrier, more real with time.
She's not the conventional girl next door. She's never dreamt of a knight or a savior with a hero complex. She doesn't need saving. She doesn't seek happily ever afters. She's never aspired for a man to call her own. That part was pretty much a given - something she was entitled to. No choices, no options. So she never saw the point of wishing for something that would be hers regardless. And love always looked better in novels and books. Love didn't fulfill dreams and didn't build bridges. It didn't run broken cars and it sure as hell didn't pay the bills. And she's always been a practical girl. So when she was faced with the possibilities his attention presented, she went on a downward spiral.
And that is where he'd thrown her off another loop. He'd gone ahead and married her. Prim and proper and legal style. Presented himself as the best match her parents would ever find and convinced them (and her) very practically that he'd been the best partner she'd ever had (in a team, at work, in bed, everywhere), that they had a great time (a shared past and an intertwined present), that he was success and secure from a sound background. She'd played along then, too awed and hooked on to his constant presence to think twice.
After all he had seen her through her changing tides and he'd promised (swore, cajoled, almost pleaded but not quite) that he'd never want her to change, that he'd never change, that they'd go their separate ways if they ever did. And she'd laughed and then cried and laughed some more. If they'd been able to just do that, leave the other and go away, they'd never have gotten to this point to begin with.
But they couldn't. They wouldn't and they hadn't. Struck (stuck) by each other since they'd met. Pushing and pulling, fighting and challenging against everything, with everything they had. Driving each other to excel, testing limits and shortcomings and always faring through, supporting and stumbling each other in the end.
Theirs is an alliance of sense and sensibility. Logical, practical and rational. Cold and calculated is how they like to perceive it. But underneath all the airs of indifference and convenience, their mask slips off every now and then.
And if one is lucky enough, watches closely enough, they'll catch a glimpse of the raging feelings (she calls it comfort) that always shimmer right beneath the surface, seem palatable in the air around them, heavy, charged, telling. Notice the way his eyes soften when he catches sight of her across a crowded room or the way they lounge around under the pretense of work in their cabins long after they're done just waiting for the other to finish or how his hand always finds its place on the small of her back no matter how distracted he may seem.
Little things she'll always outright deny or turn a blind eye to, which he'll growl at or mock you for pointing out to begin with. Private things just between the two of them, a secret language years in making. That is another thing they have in common, a possessiveness for what they share, for each other.
Over the years they have changed and grown. And while what they are to each other stays the same, their approach to the world seems to have shrunk and almost closed. They now treat each other however they will, however they please, but when it comes to their connection, to them in the public eye, they always keep their kids gloves on.
And if that means defying all the conventional semblance of social conduct and overstepping all the clearly defined relationship labels, well so be it. What they share is far more precious, wild and irrational anyway.
And as she often reasons it her head, they were never conventional people to begin with, any day.
Writer: Couch_Potato
