by Samah
‘Everyone will have to have at least one. Non-negotiable,’ he said, thwarting any scope of protest.
Priya had no time to say anything—Akhil was already tipping her chin backwards, pouring the fiery liquid down her throat. Chirag considered intervening but then he saw her close her eyes and down the vodka. Priya found just the excuse she needed to get away. Her throat was on fire. She wiped the excess liquid that had trickled down the corners of her mouth.
‘I’ll be right back,’ she said and turned to leave. Chirag grabbed her arm.
‘Are you okay?’
‘Yes. Just need some air,’ she said, pulling her wrist out of his hand, avoiding his eyes.
‘Go later,’ he said, but she needed to leave right then. Ignoring his comment, she turned and walked towards the stairs without another glance at him or Kanika.
Chirag stood there stumped, unable to figure out her behaviour. What the hell was that? He watched her disappear into the stairway, and gulped his shot. For the next few minutes he stood there, sipping yet another beer and feigning interest in the conversation as two more friends joined in, still unaware of Kanika who stood at a little distance behind him. When he could not stand it any longer, he followed his wife to the floor above.
24
Priya dashed into the bathroom. She washed her sticky mouth and hands. She took a few deep breaths and leaned against the basin. Then she came and sat on the edge of the bed. What exactly am I upset about? She was tempted to imagine what must be going on downstairs. They must have met by now. They must have hugged. What would they be talking about? What if they had both planned to meet each other here? In spite of being absolutely sober, Priya couldn’t think straight. With a thump she lay down on the bed. The click of the doorknob startled her. She sat upright. It was Chirag. He had finally managed to locate her after looking in all the other rooms.
‘Are you feeling okay, Priya?’ he asked, walking towards her.
Confused and relieved at the sight of her husband, Priya stood up and said, ‘Yes, I’m absolutely fine.’
‘Then come down, no.’
‘I’ll come in sometime. You go,’ she said.
‘Why?’
‘Just . . . Chirag. Really, I’m not feeling sick or anything.’
They stood at a distance from each other.
‘Okay,’ Chirag said, but he didn’t turn to leave. ‘Actually, I don’t mind staying here for a while myself,’ he said.
Priya didn’t know what to make of this. She had lost her grip on the situation. She didn’t know what anything meant any more. She went over to her purse and took out a bottle of water. She sipped it quietly.
‘Leave me a sip,’ Chirag said and walked towards her. He took the bottle from her and drank from it, not breaking eye contact with her.
What’s this now? she thought.
Their eyes locked, asking questions and seeking answers, imploring each other to say something, do something. Chirag stepped forward and Priya looked away. He felt her reluctance but the light-headedness made him audacious. He inched closer to her. She clutched the sides of her dress, her eyes fixed to the floor, her hands clammy.
Chirag held her shoulders. He felt the strap of her dress. ‘You know . . . I love this dress on you,’ he said. Then he leaned into her neck and whispered into her ear, ‘Because I gave it to you.’
Priya looked at him. He held her waist and steered her to the wall behind her. And suddenly she was twenty-five again. The man in front of her was not her husband, he was not the father of her child. He was her lover.
For the next few minutes, they let sensation take over; their hearts racing and breaths heavy. Chirag took in the scent of her neck; that strange yet familiar sweet smell that belonged only to her.
Priya stopped thinking, overwhelmed by the feeling of being touched, of being loved. She closed her eyes and felt Chirag’s lips on her fingers, her knuckles, her arms and shoulders. She stifled a shiver when he kissed that ticklish hollow at the base of her neck. Her hands were in his, their fingers interlaced. They hadn’t been together in long, too long. He held her by the waist and attempted to lift her up but Priya didn’t cooperate. Her eyes snapped open. She put her hands on Chirag’s shoulders and stared into his eyes. He was waiting, willing her to reciprocate.
‘Chirag,’ she said, unsure of what she wanted to say.
‘Don’t,’ he said, too consumed in the moment, his need making him impatient. ‘Don’t say anything, please. Let’s not ruin the moment.’
Priya wanted to comply. She was aching to give in. She wanted this more than he did. She needed this. But she could not. She had to know.
Everything stood still for a moment.
‘Priya . . . why are you thinking so much? I’m your husband,’ Chirag said, offended by her hesitation.
‘Chirag . . . look . . . before we . . . I just want . . . I need to clear things out.’
‘I know, I know . . . we have a lot to talk about but not right now, please,’ he said pressing himself against her, holding her face in his palms. ‘Please, Priya. I need you. I’ve missed you so much,’ he said kissing her hands.
‘Okay . . . but I need you to answer me. Just one question. And answer me honestly.’
He sighed, prepared to tell his wife that he loved her. Of course I do.
‘Did Kanika have anything to do with your decision to come here?’ Priya asked him, looking him straight in the eye.
Chirag was visibly startled—an involuntary change of expression, a subtle movement of the temples, tightening of the jaw. He let her go. His hands fell from her face, his face reddened. He looked away and then back at Priya. Her eyes demanded an answer. His silence had never been more deafening. The longer he took to react, the faster the moment slipped away, out of their hands. Desire packed up its bags and left the room. Distress walked in and unpacked.
He looked guiltily at his feet, trying to find the right words to say. Priya pursed her lips together, trying to hold back tears that threatened to fall. She had known all along and yet Chirag’s acceptance was devastating. She thought she was prepared to hear it but realized that she was not. The little ember of hope that had survived in her mind extinguished itself.
‘Priya . . .’ Chirag said, swallowing hard.
She held up a hand, forbidding him from speaking further.
‘Priya . . . look it’s not how it sounds,’ he said, coming closer to her but she pushed him away.
Fuck, I’ve messed up too badly. She hates me, he thought.
He doesn’t love me, she thought.
Does she not want to be with me?
Does he want to be with her?
They stood in silence for what seemed like years. Eventually Priya walked to the door. Before leaving she said, ‘You’ll be delighted to know that the woman you came all this way to meet is downstairs. Have fun!’ Then she banged the door and left.
He sat on the edge of the bed where Priya had been sitting just moments ago. He clutched his head in his hands and let his tears fall.
25
Priya stomped down the stairs. She had so many questions for Chirag. Is he seeing Kanika? Does he want to? Was that his intention behind this trip? An affair? She could not decide where to go or what to do. She tried to spot Kanika but was surprised to find that she was not in the room. It was as if Kanika hadn’t come to the party at all. Everything around Priya was still the same—people were chatting, some were drinking and some laughing. Karan’s parents had been cornered into a slow dance with each other, the audience cheering them on despite their apparent discomfort. Karan was hooting and Sakshi clapping, impressed by their attempt to stand (with) each other for so long. But Kanika was nowhere in the room. Priya stepped out into the lawn. She walked around to the other side where the pool was, but she didn’t find her there either. Right then an atrocious thought crept into her mind. Her breathing quickened, her stomach knotted and heat rose up her body. She ran back into the house and up the steps. She flung open her
bedroom door, half expecting to catch Chirag red-handed. But, despite everything that had transpired between them in the last two weeks, she found him alone in bed, changed into pyjamas, his eyes shut.
* * *
For the first five minutes after Priya walked out on him, Chirag considered following her downstairs. He knew how hurt she was. But he also knew she was angry.
He decided to go to bed, to give Priya some time to calm down. If twelve years of marriage had taught him anything, it was that the best time to reconcile after a fight was not immediately after having the fight. Yes, of course we’ll talk it out. All hope was not lost.
When Priya barged into the room about fifteen minutes later, she knew Chirag was not asleep but having found him alone, she quietly went back to the party.
Priya got hold of Sakshi and dragged her to one corner of the room, out of anyone’s earshot.
‘Did you see her?’ Sakshi asked.
‘Yes! Of course! Where is she now? And what was all that lovey-dovey behaviour between you two?’
Sakshi could sense that Priya was a little shaky.
‘Hey, don’t be so dramatic. She was just being nice. A little too nice, I agree. I didn’t think she would even acknowledge me but I am the host after all.’
‘Where did she go?’
‘I don’t know exactly but she had to be someplace else. She has some puja or inauguration or something to attend tomorrow. She dropped in on her way to her uncle’s house; said she would join us tomorrow evening,’ Sakshi said.
‘Oh.’
‘I don’t think she’ll be much of a problem. Thank god! I think we can all move on from the topic like mature adults. Anyway, it was like a million years ago, right?’
Yeah, right! If only Karan had slept with her for six long years and still wanted to see her after all this time! Then you would know, Priya wanted to say. ‘Yeah, I guess. Anyway, you go now, I think Karan is calling you. I’ll head upstairs.’
They wished each other goodnight and went their separate ways. Stealthily, Priya let herself into the room. Chirag was snoring lightly—proof that he was actually asleep.
She changed into her nightgown and lay in bed. The distance between them could accommodate another person. She stared at the ceiling. Tears rolled down from the corners of her eyes and into her hair.
How did we get here? Unable to talk, unable to be with each other.
And then she remembered. She remembered something her mother had said. Something about time and people. She had been very young. Too young to remember how young, too young to understand then what her mother had said. She was at home, playing with her doll. The atmosphere of her house was weighty. Something serious had happened. Not with her mother or father or brother. It looked like they were worried but not directly affected. Something had happened with her aunt. It was a matter for adults, so she was asked to play with her doll. They were sitting on her mother’s bed. Her aunt was holding her mother and crying.
‘I never thought he could be like this,’ her aunt told her mother. ‘I can’t believe it.’
Priya, sitting on the floor with her doll, watched from outside the room. She didn’t know enough about marriage to know anything about divorce.
‘It’s so sad what time does to people,’ her mother said. Priya had looked at the moment and saved it. Her first whiff of adulthood, a cursory introduction to worry. She didn’t know much about time and people. All she knew was that she had felt something.
Priya lay awake thinking about her mother. And her father. About Param and Divya. About Karan and Sakshi. Had time done things to them as well? Without even letting them know. Was marriage different behind closed doors and camera smiles?
She stretched her hand and felt around for her handbag in the darkness. It was on the floor beside the bed. She took out a tissue and wiped her face. Quietly, she blew her nose. Then she closed her eyes and slept.
26
It was close to 11 a.m. on Saturday when Priya walked down the stairs, ready to face the day, dressed in a white T-shirt and fitted blue jeans. She had applied make-up to conceal the puffiness around her eyes. Chirag had got up before her, and there was no sign of him in the room when she woke up. His side of the bed was cold, too cold. She took a hot shower. It helped clear her head. Chirag was yet to explain himself. She had half expected him to be at her side in the morning, pleading for an opportunity to talk, to mend things, to apologize. But one way or another she would get her answers.
She wished everyone good morning as she walked over to the dining table. Sandwiches, boiled eggs, fruits, milk and cereal were laid out for breakfast. Shivram was taking orders for tea and coffee. Priya was hungry but she didn’t want what was displayed.
‘Are there more eggs?’ she asked Sakshi.
‘You want more?’ Sakshi asked, looking at the fourteen boiled eggs in the tray. Surely Priya couldn’t have them all. And more.
‘No, silly. I mean, are there more eggs in the fridge? I want to make an omelette.’
‘Oh. Ask someone in the kitchen. They’ll make it for you,’ Sakshi said.
‘No, no. I want to make it myself.’
Almost everyone had gathered in the living room. As Priya broke the eggs she wondered if Chirag had eaten breakfast or not. She hadn’t seen him yet but she knew he was playing cricket outside with some other men. Through the kitchen window, she could see them play. She watched Chirag. He seemed to be enjoying the game with the rest of them. The sight of him in a T-shirt and shorts surprised her even though she had packed them herself. He looked much younger all of a sudden. Trousers seemed to age him.
With more vigour than was necessary, she whisked the eggs after adding whatever she thought was part of Chirag’s special omelette recipe. Just when she tossed the eggs into the frying pan, the players took a break. She continued to watch Chirag, marvelling at how easy it was for him to not be worried, how easy it was for him to enjoy a game of cricket after what had happened between them the night before. Maybe that would change when they came face-to-face. And right then, he caught her looking at him. She immediately turned away but couldn’t stop herself from looking back. Chirag was staring at her, directly, intently, making it clear he had seen her looking at him. He threw her a polite smile which she didn’t return.
Despite Priya’s unfriendly response, Chirag could tell that his strategy to approach the situation was working. She seemed calmer, and he knew his avoiding her was killing her. He didn’t want to add fuel to the fire by upsetting her further. He had every intention to beg and plead for her forgiveness but only when he knew she was willing to forgive him. So he would wait till the fire was doused, till they were both desperate to resolve the matter. Till then they could play this little game of theirs. He didn’t know about her but he was beginning to enjoy it.
When Priya bit into her omelette she didn’t like it. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t what she wanted. I knew something was missing. It annoyed her that a stupid omelette could frustrate her so much. After three unsatisfying bites she put her plate aside and started chatting with Niharika, listening to her rant about the disadvantages of a teaching job.
Chirag walked into the room with Karan and Shlok. She straightened up when she saw he was coming in her direction. He noticed her half-eaten breakfast, then looked at her and said, ‘Good morning,’ knowing well enough that Priya was obliged to respond. This is good. As long as we’re with others, she’ll talk to me.
When Priya looked up at him, there was playfulness in his smile. A sort of challenge. She realized that she had to respond to him; they had an audience and he was taking full advantage of it.
‘Morning,’ she said sweetly. Swine!
27
Priya picked up her plate and went to the kitchen. She had to find a way to avoid being around Chirag in front of people. If they kept up the charade of casual conversation, she would lose her grip on the situation, the upper hand she had. She ran some water on her plate, then went upstairs to their room.
She picked up her phone and rang Chirag’s mother.
‘Good morning, Mom. All okay?’
Chirag entered the room at that moment.
She turned a little, as if not wanting to be distracted, as if trying to hide something. ‘Has he had breakfast?’
Chirag didn’t look at her. He went to the bathroom. He could hear the conversation outside. Priya still seemed edgy. He now wondered if waiting to talk to her would give her another point to fight over. He had enough experience in the fighting ring of marriage to know this.
The flush sounded, Priya looked away from the bathroom.
‘No, let him play. I’ll speak to him later. He’s been very cranky the last few days.’
Water ran in the washbasin. The click of the bathroom door sounded.
‘How’s Daddyji?’ she asked as Chirag came out. She didn’t hear what her mother-in-law said, expecting Chirag to wait to talk to her.
He plugged his phone into a charger and left the room.
* * *
They were sitting by the pool. It was around 4 p.m. Some of them were in the water, others lounged around on plastic chairs, taking photographs, sipping cocktails. There was a chaise longue in the veranda that led to the poolside. Priya lay on it, sunglasses shading her eyes. An unopened book rested next to her legs. She was watching the people in front of her: Karan, beer in hand, legs dangling in the water, Sakshi next to him, kicking her legs playfully. Priya liked her electric-blue swimsuit. The cigarette between Sakshi’s fingers meant Karan’s family had left. Priya decided to take a nap. It was windy, and the sun felt pleasant on her skin. She would definitely get a chaise longue if they ever had the kind of money that afforded it.
‘Hi,’ someone said. Priya’s eyes opened instantly. She turned her head and saw Kanika walk past her and down the steps to the pool. She had walked past her casually, not in a way to ignore her. Priya was not offended. She didn’t expect her to stop and say hello.