Barsaat Ki Raat – Part 2: Chai Aur Baarish

The lift doors opened on the ground floor at half past nine, and the security guard looked at the two of them, rumpled and blinking and still holding hands, with an expression of pure delight.

"Sab theek hai, madam?" he asked. "Sir?"

"Sab theek hai," said Aman, letting go of Neha's hand very reluctantly.

Outside, the rain had eased to a soft drizzle. The streets of Connaught Place shone under the lamps, and the air smelled of wet earth and frying samosas.

"Chai?" Aman asked.

"Adrak wali," said Neha. "Bahut tez."

"Tumhe pata hai," he said, pleased, and they walked together across the wet pavement towards the stall at the corner.

The chai wallah was an old man with a grey moustache and a cloth around his neck. He poured the tea from a great height, with a flourish, into two small glass cups, and then looked at Aman and Neha as if he had seen them before in a different life.

"Saath mein?" he asked, with a knowing smile.

"Haan," said Neha, before she could think about it.

They sat on a low wall beside the stall, cups warm in their hands, watching the traffic slide by in the rain.

"Tumhe pata hai," said Aman, "main kal bhi yahan aaya tha. Aur parso bhi. Har din chai pee, aur soch raha tha ki kisi se baat karun."

Neha stared at him. "Aur tum ne kabhi kuch nahi kaha?"

"Kya kehta? Hello, main Aman hoon, aur tum sundar ho?" He grinned, sheepish, and the rain dripped off his hair. "Ye bahut filmi hai."

"Bahut filmi," said Neha, laughing. "Lekin mujhe pasand aaya."

They finished their tea slowly. The rain tapped on the awning. Somewhere a radio was playing an old Lata Mangeshkar song, soft and bittersweet.

"Neha," said Aman, turning to look at her properly. "Kya main tumse dobara mil sakta hoon? Bina lift ke, bina power cut ke?"

"Haan," she said, smiling. "Lekin ek shart hai."

"Bolo."

"Mujhe apni job ke baare mein sab kuch sunna hai. Jo tumhe kabhi kisi ko nahi bataya, woh bhi."

Aman's face softened. "Ye shart toh mujhe bhi chahiye. Kal chai ke saath?"

"Kal chai ke saath," said Neha.

He reached over, very slowly, and brushed a wet strand of hair away from her face. He asked with his eyes first, and waited. She nodded.

"Kya main tumhe kiss kar sakta hoon?" he asked, very quietly.

"Haan," whispered Neha. "Aur agar main ruk jaane ko kahoon, toh tum ruk jaana."

"Hamesha," said Aman, and kissed her, slow and sweet, tasting of ginger and rain.

When they parted, the traffic had thinned and the old chai wallah was smiling at them from behind his pot, clearly pleased with himself.

"Green?" Aman asked, grinning.

"Green," said Neha. "Bahut green."

"Toh kal same time?"

"Same time," she said. "Lekin is baar chai tum banaoge."

"Bilkul nahi," he laughed. "Main sirf pyaar se chai pilaunga, banana nahi aata."