1 hour ago
(This post was last modified: 1 hour ago by SilverArrow. Edited 1 time in total. Edited 1 time in total.)
On the television, a tense shootout played out in absolute silence, the television muted to a low, barely perceptible whisper.
"If Deshmukh asks for the soil report on Thursday," Ranga said quietly, his eyes fixed on the screen, “ Go yourself. He should not feel a history sheeter is trying to blackmail him..”
Monica sat on the opposite end of the sofa, her legs crossed "He’s an egoist," she replied "If I go personally, he might think I'm desperate. I should send Mishra. Let the middlemen sweat."
"Mishra sweats too much," Ranga countered smoothly, finally turning his head to look at her. "Deshmukh needs to see the real owner of the land I think. He needs to see that you aren't intimidated."
The digital clock on the set-top box clicked to 12:15 AM. She sighed, pressing a hand to her neck. "I need to check his temperature."
She pushed herself off the sofa and walked quietly down the dimly lit hallway. Opening the master bedroom door, she found the room cool, smelling faintly of Vicks and fever sweat. Rakesh was shifting under the blanket, his brow damp but no longer radiating that terrifying, furnace-like heat.
As she gently adjusted the quilt around his shoulders, Rakesh’s eyes fluttered open.
"Monica...?" he mumbled, his voice raspy and thin.
"I'm here, Jaan," she whispered, brushing a damp lock of hair from his forehead. "Fever is down. Just go back to sleep."
Rakesh weakly shook his head, trying to push himself up on one elbow, though his arm trembled under the effort. "You sleep Monica.. you have office tomorrow. I will manage the medicine myself."
Monica offered a soft, reassuring smile, gently pressing his shoulder back down against the pillows. "No, I am awake only. I'll give it to you at one o'clock. Don't worry about me."
Rakesh blinked heavily, his groggy mind trying to process the environment. The faint, blue flickering light from the living room danced against the hallway walls, and the low, muffled bass of the television reached his ears.
"The TV is on..." Rakesh murmured, his brow furrowing in sleepy confusion. "Is there someone?"
"Yes, Ranga Saab is here," Monica said softly. "He drove us back and stayed to help me monitor your fever, just in case we needed the car again. We are just watching a movie on Netflix. You try and sleep."
Rakesh let out a long, exhausted breath, the tension leaving his face “Thank him for me... he does too much for us," he whispered, his eyes sliding shut again
"Okay Rakesh. Now Sleep!”
He made a small sound of acknowledgement and closed his eyes again. Monica waited until his breathing evened, then returned to the sofa. Ranga glanced at her once but said nothing. She sat down.
They watched in silence for a while. When a long stretch of dialogue on screen ended, Ranga spoke without looking away from the television.
“Ok , one interesting whatsapp message I got a while ago! Deshmukh called one of his juniors today. Asked why the environmental query was being questioned from above. He’s starting to feel cornered.”
Monica kept her eyes on the screen.
“Good. Cornered men either become careful or stupid. Which one is he?”
“Careful, for now. That won’t last.”
Another pause. The movie played on.
Ranga turned his glass in his hand, then spoke in that same even, almost formal tone
“You’re still running on pure tension. One small drink will take your tension off, Monica ..Try it.. it’s a desi brand…We used to have a lot in the jail!.. you won’t regret”
Monica gave a short, sassy breath.
“I already told you no, I can’t get drunk and sleep off Ranga Saab .. What if we have to take Rakesh to the hospital in the middle of the night”
Ranga nodded once, calm. “No.. No I checked on him ..fever is very much in control .. you are just too worked up .. he will be just fine”
She looked at him sideways, the familiar irritation mixed with something more reluctant. They quietly watched a tense sequence on the television, a burly dark thief entering the house of the pretty heroine at night.
“Okay..let me have a little then, this coffee is just so bland I feel like throwing ”
The television light flickered across both their faces. She walked to the kitchen, opened the cabinet, and took down a wine glass. When she returned she held it out. Ranga poured a modest amount — less than he had given himself — and she took the glass without further comment.
They returned to the movie. For a while the only sounds were the dialogue on screen and the occasional soft clink of glass. When the thief finally left the heroine’s house, Ranga spoke first.
“This scene is interesting .. did not see that coming! ”
Monica glanced at him.
“Glad we are liking the movie, or else we both would have fallen asleep long back!” Monica said after another sip. The whiskey had begun to warm her without clouding anything. The earlier stiffness between them had thinned further. She still felt the undercurrent — the cabin, the force, the shameful pleasure — but it no longer sat like a wall. It moved under the conversation like a second current.
Ranga checked the time on his phone.
“Next dose is in forty minutes. I’ll handle it if you want to close your eyes for a bit.” He told Monica…
Monica shook her head, the sassy edge softer now.
“I’m fine. You’re the one drinking steadily. Don’t fall asleep on my sofa.”
“I won’t.”
"If Deshmukh asks for the soil report on Thursday," Ranga said quietly, his eyes fixed on the screen, “ Go yourself. He should not feel a history sheeter is trying to blackmail him..”
Monica sat on the opposite end of the sofa, her legs crossed "He’s an egoist," she replied "If I go personally, he might think I'm desperate. I should send Mishra. Let the middlemen sweat."
"Mishra sweats too much," Ranga countered smoothly, finally turning his head to look at her. "Deshmukh needs to see the real owner of the land I think. He needs to see that you aren't intimidated."
The digital clock on the set-top box clicked to 12:15 AM. She sighed, pressing a hand to her neck. "I need to check his temperature."
She pushed herself off the sofa and walked quietly down the dimly lit hallway. Opening the master bedroom door, she found the room cool, smelling faintly of Vicks and fever sweat. Rakesh was shifting under the blanket, his brow damp but no longer radiating that terrifying, furnace-like heat.
As she gently adjusted the quilt around his shoulders, Rakesh’s eyes fluttered open.
"Monica...?" he mumbled, his voice raspy and thin.
"I'm here, Jaan," she whispered, brushing a damp lock of hair from his forehead. "Fever is down. Just go back to sleep."
Rakesh weakly shook his head, trying to push himself up on one elbow, though his arm trembled under the effort. "You sleep Monica.. you have office tomorrow. I will manage the medicine myself."
Monica offered a soft, reassuring smile, gently pressing his shoulder back down against the pillows. "No, I am awake only. I'll give it to you at one o'clock. Don't worry about me."
Rakesh blinked heavily, his groggy mind trying to process the environment. The faint, blue flickering light from the living room danced against the hallway walls, and the low, muffled bass of the television reached his ears.
"The TV is on..." Rakesh murmured, his brow furrowing in sleepy confusion. "Is there someone?"
"Yes, Ranga Saab is here," Monica said softly. "He drove us back and stayed to help me monitor your fever, just in case we needed the car again. We are just watching a movie on Netflix. You try and sleep."
Rakesh let out a long, exhausted breath, the tension leaving his face “Thank him for me... he does too much for us," he whispered, his eyes sliding shut again
"Okay Rakesh. Now Sleep!”
He made a small sound of acknowledgement and closed his eyes again. Monica waited until his breathing evened, then returned to the sofa. Ranga glanced at her once but said nothing. She sat down.
They watched in silence for a while. When a long stretch of dialogue on screen ended, Ranga spoke without looking away from the television.
“Ok , one interesting whatsapp message I got a while ago! Deshmukh called one of his juniors today. Asked why the environmental query was being questioned from above. He’s starting to feel cornered.”
Monica kept her eyes on the screen.
“Good. Cornered men either become careful or stupid. Which one is he?”
“Careful, for now. That won’t last.”
Another pause. The movie played on.
Ranga turned his glass in his hand, then spoke in that same even, almost formal tone
“You’re still running on pure tension. One small drink will take your tension off, Monica ..Try it.. it’s a desi brand…We used to have a lot in the jail!.. you won’t regret”
Monica gave a short, sassy breath.
“I already told you no, I can’t get drunk and sleep off Ranga Saab .. What if we have to take Rakesh to the hospital in the middle of the night”
Ranga nodded once, calm. “No.. No I checked on him ..fever is very much in control .. you are just too worked up .. he will be just fine”
She looked at him sideways, the familiar irritation mixed with something more reluctant. They quietly watched a tense sequence on the television, a burly dark thief entering the house of the pretty heroine at night.
“Okay..let me have a little then, this coffee is just so bland I feel like throwing ”
The television light flickered across both their faces. She walked to the kitchen, opened the cabinet, and took down a wine glass. When she returned she held it out. Ranga poured a modest amount — less than he had given himself — and she took the glass without further comment.
They returned to the movie. For a while the only sounds were the dialogue on screen and the occasional soft clink of glass. When the thief finally left the heroine’s house, Ranga spoke first.
“This scene is interesting .. did not see that coming! ”
Monica glanced at him.
“Glad we are liking the movie, or else we both would have fallen asleep long back!” Monica said after another sip. The whiskey had begun to warm her without clouding anything. The earlier stiffness between them had thinned further. She still felt the undercurrent — the cabin, the force, the shameful pleasure — but it no longer sat like a wall. It moved under the conversation like a second current.
Ranga checked the time on his phone.
“Next dose is in forty minutes. I’ll handle it if you want to close your eyes for a bit.” He told Monica…
Monica shook her head, the sassy edge softer now.
“I’m fine. You’re the one drinking steadily. Don’t fall asleep on my sofa.”
“I won’t.”
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