"Aayye Papa Ji, khane ka waqt ho gaya. Dekho toh sahi, main kya kya banayi aap ke liye."
Geet set the tray on the bed next to her father.
"Papa Ji, uthiye na. Dekho kitni der ho gayi hai, ab uth bhi jaaiye na," Geet pouted as she drew open the curtains that flanked the wall opposite her father's bed.
She turned around to face her father, her hands on her hips, her eyebrows furrowed in mock anger. She moved towards her father's side, but refused to look at his face. "Papa Ji, tang mat kariye. Bohot hogaya, ab agar abhi nai uthe, toh main aapse baath nai karungi, aur dekhna, kitni der lagegi mujhe manane mein." Geet could only keep her head turned away for so long, in a matter of seconds she was peering out of the corner of her eyes at her father's sleeping face.
"Papa Ji!"
Mohinder Handa had shut his eyes a fraction of a second too late.
"Papa Ji! Aap bohot bure ho!" Geet whined as she pinched her father's arm.
"Oh, Geet! Dard ho raha hai! Chod na, sone do," Mohinder pleaded with his daughter. He rolled to the other side and tugged the blanket over his head. "Gayi bhens pani mein." he muttered to himself.
Geet's jaw dropped. "Hawww! Fine. Teekh hai. Main bohot thuk chuki hoon, main jaati hoon. Yeh lo aapka khana, jab jee main aaya toh kha lena. Aur haan, main dawai yahan pe chod rahi hoon, woh bhi khal lena." She moved away from her father's side, only to find she couldn't leave.
"Arre oh mere Veeru. Dawai kha lunga, par sirf tere haathon se."
Geet rolled her eyes and turned to face her father. She wiggled her arm out of her father's firm grip and crossed her arms.
"Papa Ji! Main koi Veeru-sheeru nai hoon. Main aapki Geet hoon. Aur rahi baat dawai ki, toh dawai aap nihar pait pe nai kha sakte. Aur jab aap sone mein itne masroof ho toh, aap khana kaise khayenge, aur jab aap khana nai khayenge, toh aap dawai kaise lenge, aur jab aap-"
"Aur jab main dawai nai lunga toh main teekh kaise ho jaaunga. Hai na?" Mohinder smiled. He sat up and cocked his head to one side, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Ek baat batao Geet, tum jab itne saare baatein karti ho toh thak nai jaati? Hey Babaji, rehem kar! Aapko sun ke main bhi thak jaata hoon," he shook his head solemnly.
"Aap se toh sikha maine," Geet retorted. She settled herself on the bed and pulled the tray towards her father. "Ab bohot baatein hui, ab chup chaap naashta khaye, mujhe Daarji ko phone karna hai, main abhi aaye. Aur agar yeh pura naashta aapne nai khatam kiya, toh mujhse bura koi na hoga. Samjhe aap?" Geet wagged her index finger under her father's nose, emphasizing her every phrase with a jab in the air.
"Aye aye Captain Geet! Aapka hukum sar aankho par!" Mohinder responded with a salute.
"Hm, that's more like it Private Handa," said Geet as she lowered her hand.
Mohinder smiled and pinched his daughter's cheek. "Babaji kare, ke har baap ko aap jaisi dhyan rakne wali beti de de."
All of Geet's mock anger melted away as she smiled. She encompassed her father's hand that rested on her cheek, with her own and turned her head to kiss his palm.
"Hey Babaji, yeh maine kya kaha?" Mohinder dropped his hand from Geet's hold. "Agar har baap ko iss nautanki jaisi beti mile na, toh phir uss bechare baap ka kya hoga, pagal toh nai honge?" Mohinder's eye's became wide with fear.
"Haw, Papa Ji!" Geet's jaw dropped again. "Ab main aapko dikhati hoon!" Geet pushed the tray of food to the side and began tickling her father.
"Geet nai-Geet nai karo! Bas baba-nai, nai! Achcha, achcha, sorry! Sorry!" Mohinder gasped between peels of laughter.
Geet smiled hearing her father's laugh. It was one of the most beautiful sounds to her ears. It came from his stomach, and when it reached your ears it resounded in a stunning vibrato that left you in awe. She enveloped herself in his laughter, she let it wash over her, moving from her ears, traveling through her veins and reaching her soul.
Geet gasped for air. It was as if she was drowning. She sat up, throwing the covers off her, almost doubling over as she tried to breathe. Tears rolled down her cheeks as the darkness around her began to close in again.
"Papa Ji," she croaked. Geet flopped to her side, leaning over the side of her bed, she reached for the inhaler on her bedside table.
Present
"Hey Babaji, aapka lakh lakh shukur hai. Woh kya hai na, tussi great ho, sach mein Babaji."
Maan stood before the doors of Handa Industries.
"Ab chal, Maan puttar. Aaj tera din hai. Here goes!" Maan took a deep breath and stepped into the revolving door, making sure to step in with his right foot first. He smirked as he remembered his Dadimaa's blessing this morning.
"Dadimaa bhi na," Maan smiled and shook his head. "Ab yeh sab chod, Maan, kaam pe dhyan do," he mumbled to himself.
Maan made his way through the marbled lobby, oblivious to the necks he broke as he strode towards the elevators.
"Hayye, dekho, Dhak Dhak aaya!" sighed Pinky as she stared longingly after Maan's retreating figure.
"Oye, Pinky, dekho, tum uski type nahi ho. Toh apne dil jalane ki bajai, tum apna kam karo, kyunki tumari uske saath kabhi koi chance nahi hai," said Adi as he slapped a file down in front of Pinky.
"No fair yaar, main toh dream kar sakti hoon na!" Pinky pouted. "Tum to uske aas paas phirte rehte ho, tumhe toh Maan Sir ki aadat lagi hai. Mera aur uska rishta toh sirf yeh choti choti mulakaato se bani hai."
"Rishta? Kya rishta? Tum toh bas usse stalker ki tarah ghoorti rehti ho jab woh subha main aata hai, aur shaam mein jaata hai. Aur kaisi mulakaatein?"
Adi flung his hand out flamboyantly and imitated Pinky's voice, "'Maan Sir, aapka coffee tayyar hai! Maan Sir, Geet Ma'am ne meeting switch kiya! Maan Sir, main aap ke liye lunch laaun? Maan Sir, main aap ko saari din ghoor sakti hoon? Maan Sir, main paagal hoon! Maan Sir, Maan Sir, Maan Sir!'"
"Adi, tum chup raho, tum nahi samjhoge. Kyun ke tum-tum-tum buddhu ho!" Pinky picked up the file Adi had just set down, smacked him with it and stormed off.
Adi rolled his eyes. "Ladkiyan, I tell you, ek dum psycho-Arre, oh Juliet! Tum nahi hogi toh yeh saala phone kaun uthaega?" he called out to Pinky as the reception phone began ringing.
"Tumhare padosan!" Pinky responded as she stalked off, leaving a panicked Adi at the Reception desk.
Maan walked through the pristine halls of Handa Industries oblivious to the staring and gaping he left in his wake. His tall figure demanded attention, yet there was no arrogance in his stride. His grecian profile made the ladies of the office forget to blink and his one-sided smile caused many a swoon. He remained innocent to the naughty designs he inspired in the heads of the young ladies he worked with. His interest was in his work, his interest was always in his work, and today his work paid off.
Maan stood before the doors of the conference room on the 36th floor. He closed his eyes. It seemed like only yesterday he came from Hoshiyarpur, a broken man, in search of a way to escape his past. Babaji had blessed him, had sent him miracle after miracle, and Maan never forgot it.
"Thank you Babaji," Maan whispered. "Ab mera ek aur kaam karna, Babaji. Main ab Handa Industries ke CEO se milne jaa raha hoon, suna hai ke bohot khatarnak cheez hai, bas koi gadbad na ho jaye, please?" Maan looked up to the sky as he pleaded with his Babaji. He took a deep breath and opened the door before him.
