by Isha Inamdar
‘How long for?’
‘A couple hours.’
‘A couple hours! But that is awesome! Don’t you see?’ Harsh exclaimed.
‘Not really…’ she replied.
‘Bhaiyya has been broken,’ he sniggered.
‘What?’
‘Well, I hadn’t told you this … but Bhaiyya had asked me to stay away from you,’ Harsh explained.
NJ nodded, waiting for Harsh to continue.
‘He said you weren’t right for me, that you probably were with me for all the wrong reasons and that I needed to be careful if I didn’t want to get hurt.’
‘Wow, and you didn’t tell me about it because…?’ NJ asked, seething with anger.
‘Because I knew you wouldn’t get it. Because I knew you would get angry instead of working harder to make him like you. And because you just proved me right.’
‘What the hell do you mean?’
‘NJ, please understand! He doesn’t have a personal vendetta against you. It was just that he saw through your act and knew you were not in love with me.’
‘Humph.’ NJ sat down in a chair with a thud, frustrated.
‘So I told him he was wrong and he needed to get to know you better. A couple of hours is just too much!’ he said, smiling broadly.
NJ couldn’t deny the sudden pang of sadness she felt at the revelation. Rudra had spent time with her last night because Harsh had asked him to? She had really enjoyed their conversation – talking to him had been as intellectually as erotically stimulating. He had a way with words that was smart and witty and pun-ny! She had been lost in his world, listening to his stories with rapt attention.
At first, Rudra had been sitting stiffly, like a kid about to give an oral exam. His eyes were a whirlpool so deep that she could get sucked straight in, but she could see she wasn’t allowed in. And then, he started relaxing, unwinding as he spoke with an enthusiasm she had never known he was capable of.
Those had, however, been only a very few moments out of all the time she’d spent with him last night. On all others, all she had wanted to do was kiss those tauntingly delicious lips. She had imagined weaving her hand through his hair and holding his face to own those succulent lips and make him grow, kissing him slowly, only to be ferocious later. She somehow knew he wasn’t someone who was gentle in bed and all she wanted him to do was to bite her lips and kiss her roughly. There had been times when his hard stare bore into her eyes, which left her wondering if he too was thinking of all the things they could be doing instead of talking.
Her imagination had been vivid, and she had imagined her on top of him, pushing him until he would be aroused enough to pin her down and take her roughly. She had never before felt so alive between her legs. Rudra had been talking about his childhood when she had noticed his hair coiled demurely at his nape and had felt the wetness trickle. She hadn’t even known she had a thing for shoulders or napes until she’d met him. But last night, she’d been so aware of everything about him. Every time he had raised his hand while talking or gesturing, she had been mesmerized by his fingers. His fingers – long, supple and strong – looked inviting. All she’d wanted to do was to help them find their way to her breasts and touch her. The thought of his hands on her breasts had made her nipples go stiff with anticipation.
She’d imagined his lips running all over her body, dropping kisses on her lips, on her nape, on her chest, nibbling and rummaging her taut breasts, his lips owning her completely, playfully stroking her belly and her waist as she writhed with pleasure. She imagined herself being tortured by him not touching her sex and arousing her even more. She imagined Rudra denying her the satisfaction and getting her to beg for his touch there, ready for him to enter her and bring her to a shattering climax.
She was certain that the collision of their bodies would be magical, their lovemaking the most erotic moments of their lives and their union a promise to spend eternity together. But she realized now that every moment she’d spent with him last night, every thought she’d thought about them, every prayer she’d said with each breath had all been in vain. She cursed herself for assuming that there was hope for them. She hated her desire that had raised its ugly head and given a start to thoughts that had no place in reality. Her black cloud had no silver lining.
‘I’m glad I could do what I had come here for,’ NJ said.
‘Did, and did it right!’ he said as his phone rang to the tune of ‘Love me like you do’ – the ringtone assigned for Sam.
Just the thought of Sam’s call brought a smile to NJ’s face. Giving Harsh a moment, she excused herself from the lunch preparations and headed to Kaavya’s room.
False Truths
6 November, 2010
‘Why don’t you sit on it? It’ll be easier to zip it up,’ NJ suggested.
When she had offered to help Kaavya pack her bags, she had assumed it would take an hour or two. Unfortunately for NJ, it had taken all day. Or was it fortunate, she thought, unsure whether she wanted any free time on her hands any more. No, it was best that she stay busy until it was time to leave.
Kaavya and Divya’s giggling brought her out of her haze. They had been excitedly discussing something, something that even though she had heard, she hadn’t really comprehended. Realizing she was missing out on some gossip, she asked, ‘What is it?’
‘Oooh! She probably knows him,’ Divya said to Kaavya, as they both dissolved in another fit of laughter.
‘Who?’ NJ asked.
‘Harsh’s handsome friend,’ Divya answered.
‘Oh, Sam?’
‘Sam…’ Divya repeated, fluttering her eyelashes and acting lovestruck. ‘Sam and Divya, Divya and Sam!’
‘Shut up, Di!’ Kaavya squealed.
‘NJ, is he single? He has come here alone. Is he seeing anyone?’ Kaavya asked NJ.
When NJ raised an eyebrow, Kaavya explained, ‘Not for me, duh! But I can certainly try and fix my best friend up with Harsh’s best friend!’
Kaavya’s excitement was evident. NJ wondered why most brides suddenly started wanting similar experiences, settled relationships and lives, for their best friends. Divya seemed playfully interested, but Kaavya seemed genuinely involved.
‘No, he is in a committed relationship with a friend,’ NJ answered. This situation was so weird. She and Harsh were supposed to be dating. But in reality, she wanted Harsh’s brother. And here was Harsh’s sister discussing Harsh’s boyfriend with her best friend. It was kind of creepy!
‘I was just thinking about you,’ she said to Harsh as he strolled into Kaavya’s room.
‘We all were,’ Divya quipped before dissolving into another fit of laughter with Kaavya.
Shaking her head slightly for Harsh’s benefit, NJ took his hand and laughingly said, ‘Save me from these women, Harsh!’ and led him out of the room.
‘What was that all about?’ Harsh asked, his interest piqued.
‘Sam,’ NJ said. ‘Kaavya was asking if Sam was available – to fix him up with Divya,’ she explained.
Harsh’s face fell. With a heavy sigh, he said, ‘Sam hasn’t been in Phalodi for an hour and there are already problems.’
‘Uh … what?’ NJ asked, convinced that there was more to the story than Harsh had let on.
‘Sam too wants to stay here, in this house,’ Harsh explained. They walked in silence towards the gates, lost in thought.
NJ understood Harsh’s predicament. Since he had introduced NJ as his girlfriend, she had been considered family and asked to stay in his house. However, for all visiting guests, hotels and palaces across town had been booked. Additionally, Harsh was scared – if Sam stayed under the same roof, the chances of them getting caught increased considerably. Though NJ had tried explaining that it didn’t necessarily have to be so, Harsh was paranoid.
‘I was hoping he wouldn’t be able to make it for the wedding,’ Harsh said.
Unsure if she had heard him correctly, she asked, ‘Wouldn’t?’
�
��What’s the big deal about meeting my family anyway?’ Harsh asked. ‘He should never have come.’
NJ usually didn’t have an appropriate emotional response and she decided that staying silent was her best bet.
An annoyed Harsh continued, ‘I never invited him to the wedding, you know. He just told me he might not be able to make it because of work. I assumed that he understood me and was making up an excuse to avoid the awkward conversation.’
Just then Sam appeared and seeing NJ, broke into a smile and rushed to give her a bear hug. Together, the trio walked towards the car to go to the hotel Sam had been booked in, their noisy footsteps echoing in the emptiness between them.
Just as she sat in the car, NJ saw Rudra’s car enter the gate. Rudra was animatedly gesturing at her, asking her to wait for him. She wished she could have met Rudra under different circumstances, where he would have wanted to spend time with her because he wanted to, and not because his brother had asked him to. Turning a blind eye towards him, she sat in the car and let Harsh drive them away.
Not the Knot
7 November, 2010
NJ woke early in the morning with a knot in her stomach that told her something was awfully amiss or about to go terribly wrong. She remembered another day in her life when she had woken up with this sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Back then, she had dismissed the fear she’d felt for no apparent reason. That day, however, had changed her life. She’d fallen ill and returned home only to have lost it all completely.
The thought of that day gave her shudders even now. She didn’t know if they were shudders of anger, contempt or loneliness.
All she knew was that she had lost everything the day she woke up with that wretched knot. And she felt a similar knot in her stomach today.
She had built everything anew. Her life, her friends, her home, herself. She had built her life anew. Her life once again felt meaningful and the sudden knot in her stomach scared her.
She stood in front of the mirror and berated herself for her stupid train of thoughts. This wasn’t déjà vu. Just because she had woken up with a knot on that day, it didn’t make the knot wretched, right? She could well be acting dumb and linking two completely unrelated things.
Today, nothing was about to go wrong. Laughing at her own foolish thoughts, she realized today was Kaavya’s day, the wedding, the reason for the sham, and she told herself everything was going to be picture-perfect. With a pang of misery, she also realized that today was her last day in Phalodi. By this time tomorrow, she would be packed and ready to leave for Mumbai.
When she’d arrived in Phalodi, she thought she’d be happy to be on her way back home. Not that the idea of going back to Mumbai didn’t enchant her any more, but she also realized that she probably would never see Rudra again.
As she thought of the man who had caused havoc within her, her eyes clouded with tears. She needed to get away from this man as soon as she could. And then a small voice in her head said, Today is all you have. Tomorrow, you will be gone, and he will be gone forever. Soak it all, for today is all you have.
She glanced at her watch and realized she’d already wasted quite a lot of time and she had to get going for the ceremony. NJ began to get ready. She wanted to look special for this last day with Rudra. She wanted him to look at her appreciatively, desiring her. She knew it didn’t make any sense and that any appreciative looks from him would only make leaving tomorrow more difficult. However, she couldn’t deny herself this last apportunity to share any last special moments with Rudra. She couldn’t stop herself from soaking it all in.
She couldn’t not want more.
She had decided to wear the sari Harsh had bought for her. When else would she wear such a heavy sari? Back in Mumbai, working as a deejay, she would once again be in comfort clothing. That day in the shop, she had found the sari to be exquisite. Today, as she stood in front of the mirror, draped in it, she found it breathtakingly beautiful. And she hoped Rudra would too …
Beginnings
7 November, 2010
The wedding was going to begin soon and guests had started to arrive. The ceremony was being held in the backyard of the palatial Ranawat home. The elaborately adorned mandap was erected in the centre of the lawn. Four pillars covered with purple, white, yellow and blue orchids held the main canopy in place which was, in turn, decorated with a criss-crossing pattern of flowers and small dangling lanterns.
On all sides of the mandap, chairs were arranged in a big circle for people to sit and watch the proceedings. Each chair was embellished with ethnic handcrafted bandhej cloth, adding to the colours of the day. On one end was the refreshment area that boasted a buffet expansive enough to feed all of Phalodi. On another end, there was a small platform erected for the performing artists playing the tabla and harmonium. A few women performed the ghoomar, looking beautiful from under their veils in a pirouetting display of the spectacular colors of their swirling ghagharas.
The stage is set, thought Rudra to himself. It is now show time!
‘Bhaiyya, I’m going to give this to Kaavya. Can you see what Maa wants?’ Harsh asked Rudra pointing at the Palla Dastoor.
The Palla Dastoor – the traditional gift from the groom’s side to the bride which included her bridal lehenga, jewellery from the rakhdi, a forehead jewellery piece, to the bichhiya or the toe-rings, and other gifts for Kaavya that she would be adorned in for the wedding – had been hand delivered by Dhruv’s cousins the day before.
Rudra nodded at Harsh and went to find his mother huddled over the gifts to be given away. ‘Beta, Baidsa has just entered the gate. Please go welcome him.’
Nodding, Rudra started walking towards the front gate. Baidsa, a man nearing a hundred years of age, was himself in regal splendour. The head of the royal family of the neighbouring village, Baidsa was quite fond of Rudra as Rudra was of him.
‘Ghani khamma, Dadasa!’ said Rudra as Baidsa started to get out of his car.
‘Ah, Rudra!’ said Baidsaab as he caught Rudra into a hug and replied, ‘Khamma ghani!’
Smiling, Rudra returned the old man’s hug affectionately. As he began to disengage himself from Baidsa’s embrace, Baidsa looked at him curiously and asked, ‘What is it that your eyes can’t stop shouting while your lips fear to say?’
Though Rudra liked Baidsa, he avoided meeting him because Baidsa was an astute man who could look into your eyes and see your soul. And the idea of Baidsa finding out about his sinful thoughts for Anjana was not only inappropriate but also undesirable.
Rudra took a step forward, suggesting they walk towards the function when Baidsa tightened his grip on his arm and said, ‘Chinta nahin karjo, sab theek ho jawelo.’
Rudra nodded and said, ‘Ji, Dadasa.’
Holding his hand, Rudra led him to the function, thinking only about Anjana. The moment he had woken up, he had realized what today was – it was Anjana’s last day in Phalodi. Tomorrow, she would be gone. And everything would be gone with her.
In the past few days, Rudra had realized that Anjana was a beautiful woman, but so much more beautiful from within. Once he had begun giving her a chance, he had noticed a different person. Not that she’d changed. It was he who had changed his perception, and that had made all the difference in the world.
And tomorrow, she would be gone – with her beautiful smile that began from her lips and reached her eyes, her innocent heart that he had assumed to be scheming and duplicitous, and her gentle eyes that spoke nothing yet everything. She would be gone.
Just as he passed Baidsa’s hand to his father, Rudra realized what he had to do. He needed to apologize to Anjana. He had treated her badly. He had not only judged her, he had belittled her and now that he knew her, he respected her. He respected her more than he loved her and he needed her to know that his respect for her was real, genuine, true.
He needed to apologize … to beg her forgiveness. In his heart, he knew she would forgive him. But in his head, he worried if she would.
Without any further ado, he began walking towards Anjana’s room. He knew he could never be able to tell her about his love for her … but she needed to know that he respected her. And that she had earned every bit of it. He had found a friend in her. A friend he could cherish all his life. He knew his brother was lucky to have her. She was the perfect mix of a companion, a confidante and an ally.
He knocked on her door and waited for the door to open with bated breath.
And then his world stopped.
Knocked Off
7 November, 2010
Anjana opened the door, and she was an indescribable vision. She looked divine and prime, and Rudra knew beauty had just been redefined for him. He knew he was staring at her, but he wanted to look at her for just another moment before looking away and preserve its sanctity forever.
NJ opened the door to find Rudra standing outside her door, looking poleaxed. She looked at him questioningly, waiting for him to either say something or come in. All Rudra continued to do was stare. She could see the appreciative look in his eyes and as she asked him to come in, she stared hard at the floor to calm her nerves.
Rudra walked in Anjana’s room, his mind blank. She looked glorious in the sari which revealed very little but still gave her the most sensuous look. He had forgotten why he was here. He had forgotten the reason for his living, his being, his existence.
‘You look stunning,’ was all he managed to say.
‘Err … thanks,’ NJ said, while jumping gleefully within.
NJ was still waiting for him to tell her why he was in her room instead of downstairs, attending to the hundreds of guests and running around for his sister’s wedding. She realized he had lost his bearings and that elated her. She turned around as calmly as she could and asked him, ‘So? What happened?’
Suddenly been brought back to reality, Rudra woke up. He remembered the purpose of his visit and knew he would be needed downstairs soon and he’d better make this quick.