Match Made In Hotel | Ruturaj Gaikwad ✓

Epilogue

29th May, 2022.
3 years later.

Kritika stepped out of her house but instead of walking straight to her car, she stopped to look at the sky. It looked like a greyish tablecloth laced with fleecy clouds. The air felt damp too. Her monsoon was near.

After four months of a dreadfully hot summer, everyone was looking forward to the monsoons. Or rather every being was desperate to be relieved of the humid air and heat waves. Come quench the thirst of our parched souls, the cuckoo seemed to sing.

This morning, Kritika felt unusual amounts of irritation. No, cuckoo, the monsoons aren't coming. It's a false alarm. We have to battle this heat for a few more days, cuckoo.

Suddenly she felt a strange sense of calm. At least the cuckoo knew her yearning. Releasing a long sigh and a little bit of annoyance, Kritika clicked her seatbelt shut.

Three months had passed since she had last seen Ruturaj. Three months. The entire season had been played in Mumbai and Pune thanks to the receding COVID waves. On top of that, the BCCI had come up with an unfair rule of allowing only the spouses of the cricketers inside their bubbles. This meant that even though Kritika was able to watch a few matches live, she was not able to meet Ruturaj in person. And that had put her in an endlessly hot, angry mood.

Tonight was supposed to be the ultimate match of the IPL which CSK and co. wanted to watch live. Apparently, you were supposed to prioritise your "brothers' big days" over everything and frankly, Kritika had grown used to it.

Rutu loved Faf. Everyone knew that. And so did Kriti. His name was enough to make her aching heart smile. It's okay. It's for, Faf, our Faf. Ever since, Rutu had called to tell her that he'll have to travel to Ahmedabad to watch the final match, Kriti had been happy for him. Genuinely. She could hear the excitement in his voice. And that made the wait worthwhile.

If only the weather weren't so serene. Serenity always reminded Kritika of Ruturaj.

It was as if he was everywhere. In the occasional teasing rumble of the thunder, the newly bloomed periwinkle buds waiting to be caressed and in the gusts of winds that blew her lone strand of hair away.

In their time away, it had become their ritual to find each other in the world. Messages like,

"Saw a boy in the bus, the neat cut of his beard reminded me of you."

"The receptionist was wearing a saree whose texture reminded me of your favourite turquoise saree."

"Rutuuuuu.....I finally heard Yad lagla!! Oh and yes, you did sing well during the interview!!"

"Can see the Arabian sea from my window. Wish you were here to smell the air. You'd have loved it, yaar Kriti."

"Cooked Poha in Marathi style for the first time!! I must say, your Aai managed to give me the perfect instructions even on the phone! Will make it for you when you return."

"Someone shouted "Go Rutu" for me in today's match when I was at the boundary. Still makes me emotional as ever. And I know you are doing your silent 'told you so' while reading this."

Kritika parks her car and sits in it for a few minutes, opening the lock of her phone.

"The weather is reminding me of you, so damn much. Wanted to give you a forehead kiss. Miss you, Rutu."

A loud thunder is heard and Kritika awakens from her slumber of yearning. No, Kriti. You know him. One word from you and he'll leave everything to be at your side. One day Kriti, just one day.

She opens the door of her car, only to be met with the timid droplets of rain.

The cuckoo chirps, elated.

See, even my rain arrived. Your Rutu will arrive in time too, it seems to tell her.

And that lifts Kriti's mood instantly. She lets the rain wipe her annoyance away as she enters the hotel, slightly drenched.

She looks at the reception, to greet Divya and Sara, only to notice that they aren't there. Before she has a chance to look around, she feels someone tying a cloth on her eyes.

In the process of tying it properly, his fingers brush her left cheek ever so slightly.

"Rutu..." Kritika whispers tenderly. Her closed eyelids fill with joy.

"Hi..." she hears him say and lets out a chuckle. Her Rutu will never grow out of the habit of beginning every conversation with 'hi', will he?

If she were to open her eyes, she would have seen Rutu giddy with happiness, sushing Sai and Cherry who were threatening to blow a whistle and crack his plan. Sai looms dangerously close to Kritika, teasing Rutu by attempting to tap on her shoulder. Rutu sends a prayer of gratitude as Anmol pulls Sai just in time.

He leads Kriti away.

"You're missing the final?"

"No. I just wanted to watch the final with you."

"Damn. So we're going home?" Asks Kriti as they continue walking.

"We will. But not right away." Rutu smiles. Clearly enjoying Kriti's curiosity.

Suddenly Kriti is silent. She knows what it is. She feels the vibrations from Rutu's soul tell his secret to her. And at the exact moment, Rutu loosens her knot.

Kriti looks around and finds herself and Rutu inside the elevator. Her heart pounds in anticipation. Her eyes glisten a little as Rutu kneels down.

"Not many people know the insecurities that hide beneath this hood of calm. But you, you saw straight through me since the day I stepped in this hotel. Day by day, bit by bit, you taught me to embrace them. And loved me along with them. I always felt I was seeking something but didn't know what. Now I do. I was looking for you, Kriti."

Kritika kneels down to wipe the tears from Rutu's cheeks.

"Kritika, nee ena kalyanam panipiya?" (Kritika, will you marry me?")
Ruturaj asks, hoping that he said it correct.

Kriti's loud and ecstatic "Ho!!" tells him he did! They reach for each other.

******

Ping. The doors of the elevator open up to the ground floor and Kriti wonders how he managed to press the perfect button while kissing her. She'd never know.

Kriti's eyes crinkle as everyone starts whistling, clapping and howling.

She sees her Thala shaking Appa's hand and congratulating him. Rutu sneaks an arm around her shoulder and she meets his moist eyes that are currently sparkling with humour. Rutu points in the direction of Sai and Deepak who are performing an animated act with Sai imitating Kriti as a wife ordering Rutu around. A chuckle escapes her heavy throat.

"Rutu chachu is getting married! Rutu Chachu is getting married...." The makeshift train with led by Ziva, chants.

In the happy chatter and the pleasant chaos, Kriti's eyes find Amma surrounded by Sakshi Akka, Haida Khala, and Riva Akka. She seems to be engaged in a deep discussion with them. Through the mixture of voices Kriti hears her mother speak the language of her soul- the language of embroidery and her heart is full.

The moment she thinks she can't be happier, her eyes find Devi giggling with Jaddu and Raydu, with Jaddu using his hand gestures to imitate a galloping horse.  She catches fragments of their discussion as she leans closer.

".... I'll lend.... Shalimar....my horse....their marriage....yes yes... she's a ghodi...."

She looks at Rutu as she says,
"So this is what they mean when they say that marriage is not only the union of souls but the union of families."

He wipes a tear that has trickled down her cheek with his thumb. "I suppose,yes."

Kritika beams at him. "And why wouldn't it be so?  After all, I am marrying their Rocket Raja, and the king of my heart. You, Rutu, You."