BENEATH CRACKED CEILINGS - by Muhammad Mercurial

STORY GENRE:Short Story STORY SETTING:Jaipur, India CHARACTERS: ANAYAA business consultant. Observant, articulate, and emotionally present. She believes love survives through shared time and honest conversation. Wife to Colonel Aarav. AARAVA colonel in the Indian Army. Disciplined, reserved, and duty bound. He expresses love through responsibility and silence rather than words. Husband to Anaya. MRS KAPOOR A married woman in her 40th year marrimonial house. A scholar Exposition “Anaya calm down.” Aarav’s voice broke before it steadied. He stepped closer, hands raised, unsure whether to reach for her or give her space. “I am here,” he said softly. “I am standing right in front of you.” She did not move. Her eyes searched his face as if checking for proof. “I did not disappear,” he continued, slower now. “I did not leave you to suffer alone. Do not speak of hurting yourself. I never asked you to carry pain for my silence.” Anaya’s breath shook. “Come here,” he whispered. “I love you Baby.” He waited. In Jaipur, India, lived a young and successful couple. Anaya, a business consultant, moved through life with purpose and warmth. Her words were careful, her love deliberate. Aarav, a colonel in the Indian Army, carried duty like a second spine. Discipline shaped his days, but love softened his nights. “I made your favorite chai,” Anaya said one evening, holding the cup with both hands. “Drink it slowly.” Aarav smiled and brushed her fingers as he took it. “Everything tastes better when you give it to me.” She laughed and leaned against the wall. “Sit. Let me borrow you before the world takes you again.” “I am yours before I am theirs,” he replied. They walked together through the streets of Jaipur, hands locked, steps in rhythm. The pink walls reflected sunlight onto their faces. Aarav let her choose a jasmine garland for him. She tied it around his wrist and said, “So you remember me even when you are far.” Later, water ran over them in the bathroom. Steam filled the room. Aarav rested his forehead against hers. “If time could stop anywhere,” he said, “let it stop here.” She kissed his shoulder. “Then stay.” They visited Mrs Kapoor one afternoon. She had lived forty years in marriage. Her house smelled of books and tea. Mrs Kapoor studied them carefully. “I admire how you love,” she said. “You listen. You touch. You wait for each other.” Anaya spoke without thinking. “Love survives when voices are gentle and time is shared.” Mrs Kapoor nodded. “Rabindranath Tagore said love is not possession but participation. Time will teach you the rest.” Aarav squeezed Anaya’s hand. One evening, Aarav returned late. The door closed. Anaya did not smile. “Where have you been,” she asked sharply. “Do you know how long I waited.” “I was held up,” Aarav began. “You are always held up,” she shouted. “The table is cold. The calls go unanswered. Do you think waiting is easy.” “I am doing my duty,” he snapped. “And I am doing mine,” she replied. “Loving you alone.” The air thickened. Words collided. Anger replaced listening. Then his phone rang. Aarav looked at it once. He left. No explanation. The door closed again. Days passed. Silence grew teeth. News came quietly. The base had been attacked. Anaya’s calls rang unanswered. Her mind turned against her. If I had not shouted. If I had listened. If I had waited. She remembered Mrs Kapoor’s calm voice. Time will tell. She went to the temple. Bells echoed softly. “Bring him back,” she whispered. “Alive. Let me hear his voice again.” A jasmine petal drifted near her feet. Night fell. Anaya stood on the rooftop of the fourth floor. The city lights blinked below like distant stars. Her hands trembled. Then footsteps. “Anaya.” She turned. Aarav stood there. Wet. Exhausted. Alive. Her knees gave way. He caught her. “I am here,” he said. “I never left you on purpose.” She sobbed into his chest. “Calm down,” he whispered. “I love you Baby.” The rain softened. Light broke through clouds. The cracks in the ceiling above them did not vanish but they glowed. Under cracked ceilings, love stayed. Not perfect. But awake.

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