A few flashes blinded Agni as he stepped out. As he followed Rituja into the back of her car, he heard one of the photographers scream, ‘Hey, isn’t that Agni Mitra?’
He had no idea what the papers will make of his appearance with Rituja, stepping out of a club at that unearthly hour. He slammed the door shut.
After a few minutes of awkward silence inside the car, the chauffeur spoke, looking at Rituja in the rear-view mirror.
‘Home?’
‘Yes, Rakesh. And can you please turn on the radio? It’s too quiet in here!’ She looked sideways at Agni with a smirk.
Trucks sped past the car at regular intervals, ferrying idols of Ma Durga from Potuapara to the pandals, accompanied by the frenzied beating of the dhaak.
Agni looked at Rituja, street lights sweeping across her face, her feminine aroma wafting inside the car, her breath smelling of alcohol and he was transported in time to the back seat of another car, with the same woman next to him in a similarly intoxicated state more than a decade back—younger and arrogant with her newly tasted success.
Chapter 21
Ten years back
‘Agni, I want you to accompany Rituja and personally supervise the security arrangements. She is very jittery today,’ ACP Bardhan waited for Agni’s assent, which took longer than he had expected.
‘I believe that her own security personnel, along with the armed constables we have deputed, are doing a fine job!’ Agni tried to wriggle out of the assignment. The reluctance in his tone was not lost on the ACP.
He tried to figure out why Agni’s enthusiasm in the assignment had suddenly ebbed.
‘What’s the matter with you? You don’t seem to understand the fact that, this is not one of her closed door shoots! This is a public event. Half the city will be at the venue. We will have a tough time managing the crowd. Unless we are vigilant, the stalker can sneak in any time and cause harm. Rituja herself is aware of the possibility. And she is very worried. She has called me up thrice since the morning, asking specifically for you!’
Agni had been avoiding Rituja since his last visit to her residence. And now, he would have to accompany her to the awards function at the insistence of the ACP. Agni wondered why she had been asking for him specifically.
***
Agni stood at an arm’s length from Rituja as the flash lights blinded him. Rituja flaunted for the Press the two trophies she had won earlier in the evening for her brilliant portrayal of a college girl taking up cudgels against her family and the society and giving birth to her daughter, conceived out of wedlock. Readers of the popular movie magazine had voted for her as the best actress of the year, and so had a panel of judges, comprising of eminent movie critics, directors and writers.
The reporters fought against one another for her bites. Rituja had had a few too many drinks in the after-party and talked a dime a dozen, rattling off clichéd answers. Having accompanied her to a number of social-do’s over the last few weeks, Agni now knew most of those answers by heart. He looked at his watch, wondering when the farce would end.
‘Ma’am, what do you have to say about your ex-lover, Abhishek Roy, citing trust issues as the reason for your recent break-up?’
Agni was suddenly alerted by the question from one of the reporters. He did not know about Rituja, but he himself had not seen that one coming! The next moment he realised that the seasoned actress, by now, must be adept at handling such personal questions from the media. He looked up at Rituja, waiting with bated breath to find out how she reacted to what had so far been the subject of hushed speculations in the gossip mills.
She opened her lips a couple of times trying perhaps to find a befitting response which, however, eluded her. The suddenness of the question had clearly unsettled her. And she was probably too drunk to let her thinking mind come to her rescue.
She clutched Agni’s shirt sleeve. And then, in an act that would be remembered and discussed for years, she stuck her middle finger at the reporter and tottered away with Agni, the cameras going berserk over her receding frame.
Chapter 22
Agni pushed Rituja into the safe confines of the rear seat of her car and slid in next to her, shutting the door with a bang. He gestured to her chauffeur. The car roared to a brisk start and sped off with a deafening screech, to the chagrin of the reporters who had been following them, welding their cameras and microphones.
Agni looked at Rituja, street lights sweeping through her face, her feminine aroma wafting inside the car, her breath smelling of whisky which had already kicked in, her mouth spouting abuses, directed in all likelihood at the Press.
Her head dropped to a side and landed on Agni’s shoulder. The next moment, she inched closer and snuggled against him, her long fingers clutching his shirt at his chest. She raised her head. Her eyes, struggling to stay open, were fixed on Agni.
‘Listen...I am sorry about...about what happened the other day in my room...I was out of my mind,’ the whisky fumes in her breath assaulted Agni’s nostrils as Rituja nestled on his shoulder.
‘Abhishek and I were supposed to have lunch after our shoot...and he didn’t turn up that morning. The entire unit kept waiting for him. And then, one of the boys in the unit said someone had seen him entering the Oberoi Grand with Avantika earlier that morning. Everyone had been talking about them for weeks but I had refused to pay heed to the rumours. I believed Abhishek was mine.’ Rituja paused. Agni could feel the warmth of her tears on his shirt.
‘But that afternoon, I wanted to find out for myself. I went to the Grand and then, straight up to his room. The bitch...the very same one everyone had been talking about...opened the door wrapped in just a bed sheet...and I saw Abhishek inside the room scurrying for cover. That bastard! He has the balls to say he has trust issues with me!’ Rituja screamed.
Agni could see the chauffeur’s eyes darting frequently to the rear-view mirror.
Rituja’s grip on Agni’s shirt tightened.
‘I was shattered, Agni. My world came crashing down. I broke down...I made a fool of myself in the hotel...I kept asking myself why Abhi did that to me. The only answer I could find was that he didn’t find me attractive anymore...that I couldn’t satisfy him in bed any more....’ Rituja was now howling.
‘I realised the fame thing isn’t really real...that at the end of the day, I’m just a girl...you know, the famous Julia Roberts line from...from Notting Hill...I realised that was my truth...every girl’s truth. I rushed home...I started drinking like there was no tomorrow...I was expecting you that afternoon,’ Rituja looked into Agni’s eyes. ‘And I don’t know what came over me...I suddenly had to prove to myself that a man—any man—would find me attractive...that I would be able to make his iron resolve melt by revealing my body before him...that he would pounce on me...tear my clothes away and have wild animal sex with me...and all you did was...’ Rituja suddenly started laughing, ‘... you shut the door on my face and walked away...just as Abhi had done! That hurt Agni, that hurt a lot!’
Rituja had flicked open the top button of Agni’s shirt and her fingers stroked his chest hair. ‘Look into my eyes, Agni, and tell me you don’t find me attractive,’ she whispered, her warm breath fanning his face.
‘Please get a hold on yourself, Ms. Bose.’
‘Tell me Agni...in all these days, was there never a moment when you wanted to touch me...to make love to me....?’
‘You are not in your senses, Ms. Bose,’ Agni said through his clenched teeth.
‘Kiss me,’ she said throatily as her nails dug into Agni’s chest, her lips landing on his.
Agni held Rituja by her shoulders and pushed her away.
‘Stop the car,’ Agni shouted at the chauffeur, who promptly followed his order.
The car screeched to a halt. Agni stepped out of the car and slammed the door shut.
‘You’ll have to pay for this, Agni,’ Rituja snarled, pushing her head out of the window. Agni buttoned up his shirt, the scratches she had left on his ch
est burning.
As the car started, Agni looked into Rituja’s eyes and the madness he saw there made his heart skip a beat.
***
Agni stood before ACP Bardhan. He had hardly slept the night before, after the showdown with Rituja in her car. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her face, contorted with unbridled lust and then with spiteful rage on being turned down. He had seen her eyes spewing venom, staring back at him from the speeding car.
‘I never expected this from you, Agni! Rituja called me this morning. I am told there was a security violation during the event yesterday!’ ACP Bardhan was beside himself with anger.
‘None that I am aware of, Sir,’ Agni replied nonchalantly.
‘Exactly her point! She feels you are not being vigilant enough. She called me up this morning and told me that there was someone who had groped her last evening after the awards function, and none of the armed constables was anywhere near. You were nowhere near her! She is feeling very insecure. This doesn’t make us look good, Agni!’
‘Sir, I was with her everywhere she went last night,’ Agni resisted the urge to add ‘but for her bedroom’ and continued, ‘and so were the armed constables. She is imagining things! People often start hallucinating when they are too scared of something or someone.’
‘For God’s sake! That’s the worst explanation I’ve ever heard, Agni!’ The ACP fumed.
Agni did not want to drag the conversation.
‘So what are your orders for me, Sir?’ Agni looked into the eyes of ACP Bardhan.
‘I can’t allow you to continue with this assignment, Agni. I need to take you off before this gets any worse. As I warned you earlier, Rituja has contacts in all the right places.’
‘I don’t doubt,’ Agni muttered under his breath.
He turned around and walked out.
Rituja had exacted her revenge. This would probably be an indelible scar on his career, Agni thought.
He would never forgive, or forget, that woman!
***
Two weeks passed by. Agni was yet to get over the bitterness he felt over the unprecedented turn of events.
He was in bed when the phone rang.
When he picked up the receiver, he heard ACP Bardhan at the other end of the line.
‘Agni, have you seen the newspapers this morning?’
‘No, Sir. Anything that needs my attention?’
‘I called you to say that you have a sharp mind, indeed! I really appreciate.’
‘What’s this about, Sir?’ Agni was taken aback at the change in ACP Bardhan’s demeanour. The ACP had hardly spoken to him over the last couple of weeks.
‘Your theory about the stalking was proved correct last night, Agni. Take a look at the papers!’
The ACP ended the call.
Agni got out of bed and walked up to the balcony.
He picked up the newspaper and went to page three.
There was news about the birthday bash of a Tollywood starlet. Rituja was present in the party when Abhishek Roy, her ex-lover who had accused her of adultery while he himself had been dating a model, turned up drunk. He reportedly hurled the choicest of abuses at Rituja, blaming her for their break up a month back. Completely uninhibited, thanks to his drinking, he said he had e-mail evidence to prove that Rituja had agreed to sleep with wealthy businessmen willing to fund her projects or offering to take her on holidays to exotic destinations, or showering expensive gifts on her, while she had been in a relationship with him. He further said, on most nights, when he had called Rituja, she had not been home, spending time probably with her suitors. They fought frequently, and their relationship turned sour. When Rituja instructed her security staff to never allow him inside or in the vicinity of her house, he broke into her house to discover ridiculously expensive gifts that Rituja had accepted from other men without mentioning them ever to Abhishek in return for, according to him, sexual favours. Rituja’s complete lack of commitment at a time when they had been planning to settle down, drove him to walk out of the relationship. He decided to rub salt on Rituja’s injury by adding that, he had since then chosen to sleep with every woman who had thrown herself at him, with a vengeance—including Avantika, the same woman with whom Rituja had found him inside a room in the Oberoi Grand.
As he finished reading the report, Agni looked at the busy streets outside his balcony. The city went about its business, completely oblivious to the trials and tribulations of the men and women it worshipped on the silver screen.
He allowed himself a smile after a very long time, and headed towards the shower. He looked forward to going to work after a long time.
Chapter 23
Present Day
Sleep eluded Manav Chauhan as he lay on the hospital bed. He had a throbbing headache, brought over by the tormenting images that had ravaged his sedative-induced sleep a while back. However much he resisted, his mind drifted to another time, another place.
He found himself transported to Hiya’s van at a shooting location in Kolkata a few weeks before their wedding. That was Hiya’s last schedule before her break. Manav had been very busy and had hardly found time for Hiya over the last few days.
Hiya had just finished shooting a few dance moves for a song when Manav turned up around noon. There was a break before the next shot, which would see Hiya in a different costume, dancing to the same number. Hiya gestured to the make-up artiste to wait and let Manav in.
‘Is everything alright? I almost convinced myself that you don’t remember me anymore,’ indignation rang loud in Hiya’s voice, as she picked up a towel and turned on the air conditioner.
Manav was slumped on a leather couch inside the van, his blazer off, his tie loosened. He was struggling to find words to explain what he did realise had been an unpardonable blunder. There had been days in the last week when he had not called her even once. And the wedding was just a couple of weeks away. Hiya had every right to be cross.
‘You know how my schedule is...and then, we had the architects flying down from Singapore with the designs...‘
Manav made a half-hearted attempt at salvaging the situation. Hiya did not let him finish.
‘You don’t love me anymore,’ she declared. Manav remembered he had heard that line before, from another woman. Hiya sounded almost like Neha. Most certainly because he had been equally callous.
Hiya stood up and made her way towards the shower as tears welled up in her eyes. Manav got up and hugged her from behind, stopping her in her tracks.
‘You know that’s not true, don’t you?’ Manav nestled his face on Hiya’s neck and whispered, the warmth of his breath fanning the back of her ears. He kissed her on the neck. Hiya suppressed her moan with some effort and she had goose-bumps all over her arms. His touch felt electric, his cologne intoxicating. A part of her was angry with him as he had been ignoring her for days, and another part of her wanted to melt in his arms in gay abandon that very moment. What was happening to her? That was not how it was supposed to be! For days, she had been planning to take Manav to task the next time they met. For days, she had rued over the fact that Manav had perhaps started taking her for granted already. She freed herself from his arms, but the fire still coursed through her veins, her breathing was still laboured.
Manav ran his fingers through his hair and returned to the couch. Hiya moved into the shower cabinet, without bothering to shut the translucent door behind her.
Hiya untied her hair. She had her back to Manav as she unzipped the knee-length scarlet dress at the back and let it drop to the floor. As she stepped out of it, Hiya had no clue what had come over her. Her pulse raced as she slowly turned to face the half-closed door of the shower cabinet in her purple lacy bra and skimpy panties, her hair cascading down her shoulders, her eyes locked with Manav’s. As her hands reached back to unclasp her bra, Manav walked across the van nodding his head, a smile on his lips, a glint in his eyes. As he tried to shut the door of the shower cabinet, Hiya flung the bra outside and grabbed
him by the collar. She pulled him inside and planted her feverish lips on his, her pent-up anger giving way to raw earthy passion. Like a woman famished, she drew the blood from Manav’s lower lip, her warm supple breasts caressing Manav’s hard chest, her fingers making their way through his hair.
Manav pulled himself free. He took her in a hug and kissed her on the forehead.
‘Not before the wedding, remember?’ he smiled. ‘Don’t make it difficult for me, sweetheart.’
‘I know...I know, Manav...but I missed you so much...I thought it was all over...’ tears streamed down her flushed cheeks, as Hiya clutched his shirt. She looked up at his face and smiling through her tears, she said, ‘But every time you say that, you sound so sweet! It makes me fall in love with you all over again...it makes you so special, so different from everyone else...and our wedding night such a special night to wait for!’
Manav liked the fact that Hiya respected his decision. Neha used to find it ‘old-fashioned’. Manav kissed her on the cheek and hugged her.
As Hiya was about to go back to the shower, there was a loud knock on the door of her van.
They looked at each other.
‘The make-up artiste?’ Manav asked.
‘I don’t think so. I told him I’d call him when I was ready....’
The knocks grew louder, each more impatient than the earlier.
Hiya put on a robe. Manav opened the door of the van.
‘Ah, what a surprise!’ Manav exclaimed as he saw Mayank standing outside, his tee drenched in sweat, his eyes barely visible under his messy locks.
‘Surprise, indeed!’ Mayank remarked in reply, his breath reeking of alcohol. He was drunk and could barely stand straight. ‘Look who’s here!’
‘Mayank, what’re you doing here?’ Manav demanded.
Mayank did not bother to answer. He stood on his toes and peeped inside.
‘Mayank, I asked you a question,’ Manav’s voice climbed a notch.
Mayank jerked his head backward, shifting his locks off his eyes, and looked at Manav in the eyes.
The Colours of Passion Page 7