A Sticky Wicket in Bollywood

by T. A. Chase

  His father.

  Rajan was stunned. All his life he had heard her do nothing but disparage the man and blame their differences for the collapse of her career. And yet every night she went to sleep with dozens of images of him on her bedroom wall? Why?

  “You know my secret now.”

  “What secret?”

  Her smile turned rueful. “That I still love him. I always did.” She reached out to him and he took her hand, cradling it in both of his. “He was different. So very different from anyone I’d ever met. He didn’t care about money or fame, and never had either one.”

  She sighed and her smile slipped away. “Bansi was my big rebellion. I fell in love just like that. Oh, he tried to be noble, but of course you more than anyone know how I can be when I set my mind on something.”

  Yes, he knew.

  “I became pregnant.”

  Rajan’s heart beat faster. This was a detail he’d never heard before. “You weren’t married yet?”

  She smiled sadly. “I thought you might have guessed, Raji. We never married at all.”

  Shock upon shock. “He got you pregnant and then just—”

  “No,” she interrupted. “He offered to marry me, yes, but I had found out in the meantime that…” She looked towards the wall of pictures then continued, “That he loved someone else. Someone who had been in his life well before me, and I couldn’t do that to him. So I set him free.”

  Despite the emotional story being imparted to him, his maa looked more serene and peaceful than she ever had. Perhaps unburdening her secret was a help to her soul.

  “Do you ever speak to him? Know what became of him?”

  She looked directly at him when she answered. “Yes. He lives in Punjab. I have kept him up to date on your life, though there were a few periods of time where I let my anger and selfishness goad me into silence.”

  “Why have you never told me any of this until now?” Rajan couldn’t understand why she had kept the pretence up that they’d been married. Being illegitimate no longer carried the stigma it once had.

  “I had planned to tell you once you were an adult, but…” She looked away at the wall again and gave a small shrug. “By then it just seemed too much trouble to stir up the past.”

  He had the sense that she was still holding back on something.

  “Didn’t he…want to know me?”

  She swallowed heavily and her eyes glistened. As he watched, a tear slid down her sunken cheek. “Yes, he did. Does. That was my fault entirely. Keeping you apart. You’re such a good boy. So obedient and you never pressed the issue. And you’re just like him. He never stood up to me either. I was in control. And I thought I wanted that.” Her teary eyes pleaded with him. “I was wrong. If I could see him again, I would tell him how sorry I am, but I will have to leave that to you now. Can you tell him that for me, after I’m gone?”

  He nodded. What else could he do but agree? His throat ached with the effort of holding back his emotions.

  “Mrs Kapoor has all of his contact information to give to you. I want you to get to know him. I’ve had you for all this time to myself. I need to know that you’ll have him for the rest of the time you share on earth.”

  “Oh, Maa…” He put his head down on the pillow next to hers.

  They talked about less important things until she was drifting in and out more than she was participating, and he finally let go of her hand. She didn’t awaken, so he carefully drew the covers over her thin arms and left the room.

  Regardless of what his maa had said, he could read between the lines. He would take the information from Mrs Kapoor and call his father today, get him on a flight from Punjab if he would agree to come. Perhaps he would still have time to get here.

  He had a plan, but found it hard to make his feet move from the suite. He could see why his mother had kept her privacy. It was a sanctuary, where, protected from the intrusions and judgements of others, a person could strip off the public layers and be themself. Rajan had no place to compare it with, and he finally decided that another few minutes here couldn’t hurt anything.

  In his mother’s sitting area, away from the prying eyes of the world, he gave in and wept.

  * * * *

  An hour later, an emotionally and physically exhausted Rajan dragged himself into his house. When he’d turned his phone back on in the car, he’d seen a text from Ajay. A bit nervous after the non-message of simply returning his phone, he read it and felt his heart drop at the impersonal feel to it.

  Leaving town today. Back in four days.

  Rajan might as well be an employee or neighbour. Or a casual friend. Yes, be honest, that’s exactly what you are.

  He’d decided to get a few mindless yet necessary errands taken care of. Practical, yes, considering the unexpected turn his life had taken and how busy he was going to be shortly.

  But if he were honest with himself, he was procrastinating.

  Mrs Kapoor had given him his father’s contact information, and he knew he needed to get in touch with him very quickly. But what was he going to say?

  Hi, you don’t know me but I’m your son and my mother is dying. Please come?

  Irritated with himself, he sat down at his desk and pulled the information out of his inside jacket pocket. Armaan entered and hovered just inside the door, obviously sensing his mood.

  “Nothing right now, Armaan. Thank you. Any messages?”

  “Just two. They’re on your desk. And Mr Sharma stopped by. He said he would be back around tea time.”

  Rajan mentally added him to the list of people to call. Also on the list would be Maa’s doctor. But for now, at the top—his father.

  Buckling down and gathering his courage, he entered the digits and pressed the button to call. After a brief moment, it started ringing—three times, then, “Hello?”

  Rajan took a deep breath. “Is this Bansi Gupta speaking?”

  “May I ask who is calling?”

  He hesitated a moment. “It’s Rajan Malik.”

  A sharp intake of breath then, “One moment.”

  For several seconds there was the distinctive sound of a hand being held over the phone and some indistinct male voices having an exchange. Then a different, deeper voice spoke.

  “Rajan?”

  “Yes. Is this…?”

  “Hello, son.”

  Chapter Ten

  Those words, ones he’d never thought he’d hear, reverberated through his head. He briefly clenched his hand to his forehead as if he could reach in and stop it.

  “Rajan?”

  “Yes, I’m here. I just…this is all very hard to grasp.”

  “I can understand that.” His voice was soothing. “I’m assuming that Satvika finally gave you my information and…perhaps shared a little bit of our history with you?”

  It was a bit startling to hear her referred to by her given first name rather than her professional one, Kamini. “Just now, today.”

  “How is she doing?”

  Rajan gratefully took the opening. “Not well.” He paused. “Can you come?”

  “I…I don’t want to intrude in her life and promised her I wouldn’t do so. Has she asked for me?”

  He considered lying for a brief moment, then simply spoke from his heart. “No, but she gave me a message to pass to you after she was gone. I think, though, that it would ease her mind to tell you in person. And…I want to see you. To meet you, I mean.”

  His father’s voice was sombre. “I haven’t spoken to Satvika for at least a month, but she was her usual self then. You make it sound like she is near the end.”

  “Yes, she is. Very near. Days, I think. Maybe less.”

  “That soon?” His father went silent for a few moments. “All right. I will try to get on a flight today. Will you give me your number?”

  “Here’s my cell.” He recited the number to him. “You can call or text me the information, and I’ll make sure there’s a driver waiting for you at whatever time you a
rrive.

  You can stay at my house, or at Maa’s, I suppose. Wherever you’ll be most comfortable.”

  “Thank you, Rajan. I will be there for you as soon as I can. Are you okay? Is someone with you?”

  Rajan blinked at the gruffly voiced concern. “Not at the moment, but there will be. I’ll be fine.”

  As if on cue, he heard sounds and voices from out in the main part of the house. It sounded like Beni. For the first time probably ever, he was glad to have him show up.

  Rajan and his father said their goodbyes and Beni appeared in the doorway of the room.

  “Rajan. Mrs Kapoor called me. I came back as soon as I could.” To Rajan’s surprise, he looked truly upset and sympathetic as he crossed the room to him. “I had no idea things were progressing so quickly. She had us both convinced, didn’t she?” He patted Rajan’s shoulder.

  Rajan just nodded.

  “You look tired. Armaan?”

  He appeared in the doorway as though he’d been waiting just outside.

  “Can you bring a light tea?”

  “I’m not hungry,” Rajan said automatically.

  Armaan’s gaze went from Beni to Rajan and back to Beni before he nodded and left the room. Apparently, I’m getting it whether I want it or not. He was too tired to protest further.

  He was picking half-heartedly at the thali platter when a text came through.

  Booked on Air India arr 8pm. Will try to get standby on Jet India arr 6pm when I get to airport.

  Will text which one soon. See you tonight.

  “Do you want to go back to your mother’s house or rest here a while?”

  Rajan debated for only a second. “Let’s go to Maa’s.” There was no rest to be had here.

  At least there he’d found some peace, though he had a feeling that would change in the coming days.

  “The driver’s waiting out front. Do you need to grab anything?”

  He looked around and made a small pile of papers from his desk, which he tucked into his leather planner and wrapped the tie around to close it. He snagged his jacket from where he’d draped it over the back of the desk chair, stuck his phone in his pocket and at the last minute grabbed his charger.

  “Okay, I’m ready.” Maybe he should have changed clothes, but even though he wanted to make a good impression on his father, he couldn’t be bothered at the moment to fuss with his appearance.

  Take me as I am…

  Ha. The only person in his life who had ever done that was Ajay. And see how well that had gone.

  * * * *

  Maa hadn’t spent much time awake as the daylight deepened into early evening. When she seemed to be resting peacefully, Rajan would wait out in her sitting area. Mrs Kapoor checked in frequently but didn’t disturb his informal meditation.

  His father had managed to make the earlier flight, so he would be arriving soon. And Sharma had just left, saying that he’d pick Rajan up at his house in the morning. There was a read-through scheduled for tomorrow, but Beni had already contacted the producers and had let them know that Rajan wouldn’t be able to make it.

  At the moment, it was just Rajan alone with his thoughts. He felt as though he should be able to clear his mind or focus on his mother, but he was getting antsier by the minute. He hadn’t realised just how much he was on the go every day until he’d spent a day doing mostly nothing. Of course, that made him feel guilty. He wasn’t doing nothing, he was at his mother’s side. But she was asleep for the most part, and he was at loose ends.

  He debated calling or texting Ajay back, but the brief message he’d left earlier about leaving town didn’t exactly invite any return contact. Better to let that sleeping dog lie.

  He opened his portfolio, then started flipping through the papers. Mrs Kapoor’s neat handwriting with his father’s contact information caught his eye, so he took the time to enter it into his phone. It felt strange entering his name, knowing that it was his father he was inputting, not just some random contact or acquaintance.

  It finally hit him that his father’s last name was Gupta—not Malik like he’d always believed. For that matter, was Malik even his mother’s real name, or a stage name? He shook his head. So many questions.

  He really didn’t need the paper from Mrs Kapoor anymore, but he carefully folded it anyway and tucked it back into his planner. Sentimental sap.

  The two messages written in Armaan’s concise handwriting were the only things left to address. When he read the first one, his initial thought, through the instant burning anger in his heart, was that he should have guessed, should have known there would be something more from his… Was it appropriate at this point to call him or her a stalker?

  Marrying her will help your mother rest easy.

  What sort of bastard would do something like this? Why didn’t they leave him alone?

  Fuck! He wondered whether Karishma was getting these sort of messages, too. Realising he’d crumpled the message into a ball, he loosened his fist and smoothed it out.

  His first impulse was to call Sharma…but…

  Then again, was this something he would do?

  Some of the threads began to connect in Rajan’s mind. It had to be someone with an intimate knowledge of his daily life. The mention of the flowers he’d privately given Karishma. The note on the napkin, which meant either having access to his clothes before he’d dressed or following him to the club. Now this about his maa.

  Someone in his personal life was doing this. It had to be. Either that or some stranger turned stalker who was completely fixated on him and watching his every move…

  A shiver went down his spine. Either way, he wondered briefly whether he should involve the authorities. No. He didn’t want the additional publicity, and really, nothing overtly threatening had been said.

  He ran through the possibilities in his mind. Sharma. Karishma herself maybe? He shook his head disbelievingly, but who knew? Or perhaps someone in her life—a girlfriend or relative?

  Who else had inside knowledge in his life? Armaan. His drivers. His housekeeper.

  People at the studio. Maa? That was crazy, but…

  His heart sank. The list was longer than he would have thought. About the only person he could rule out was Ajay, since he couldn’t see Ajay encouraging him to marry Karishma.

  Mrs Kapoor slipped quietly into the room. He eyed her for a moment, hating his suddenly suspicious nature. Even she could have some reason to want the marriage—to please his mother maybe?—but then again, how would she have known about the flowers?

  Maybe he’d mentioned them to Maa, or Sharma had…?

  Ugh. He was going to drive himself crazy suspecting everyone in his life. He had to let it go for now. Maybe he should hire some bodyguards other than the ones who also served as his drivers.

  Yeah, just what he wanted. More people intruding in his life.

  He gathered his papers together and gave the other message a cursory glance.

  Something very boring about his clothing being delivered tomorrow. He shook his head, wishing that every note could be that ordinary. He’d had nothing but surprise after shock over the past few days. No wonder his belt was barely keeping up his pants. He’d never had much of an appetite to begin with, and when he was upset? Not at all. Which was why his maa and Sharma and Armaan were always pushing food on him.

  He almost laughed out loud when Mrs Kapoor placed a tray in front of him. Talk about timing.

  “Thank you.”

  She nodded and gave him a look, kind but firm. “You need to eat something. All right?

  Just think of it as fuel.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  She went into his mother’s bedroom and he knew she would be in there for some time, caring for her.

  He started with a cup of tea, but forced himself to put it down and actually eat some food. He’d done a passable job on what she’d provided by the time she came back out. Her approving look made him smile.

  A light gong signalle
d someone at the front door, and she excused herself. Rajan looked at his phone and saw with a start that more time had passed than he’d realised. A sudden rush of nerves came over him. Was his father here already?

  Thinking that the reunion would go better in the public part of the house, he quickly straightened his appearance then walked out of the suite, closing the doors behind him. He quickly made his way to the living area, and Mrs Kapoor smiled and silently indicated the salon.

  After taking a deep breath for courage, he walked to the entrance and paused just before the step down into the sunken area.

  Bansi Gupta was standing with his back to Rajan, giving him a chance to come to terms with the sight of the father he’d never met before he showed his reaction. He was tall, taller than Rajan by several inches, and very well built. Rajan wasn’t sure how old he was, but his hair was still dark and he hadn’t let himself go, still trim around the waist, though he was a bit heavy through the chest.

  His father evidently knew he’d arrived, because he turned slowly, a smile already on his face, not seeming at all surprised to see him standing there mute.

  “Hello, Rajan. Thank you for having me.”

  Rajan bought himself a few seconds by stepping down into the room and approaching him before he answered politely, “Thank you for coming on such short notice.”

  Bansi quirked his lips into a wry smile then took two steps forward and pulled Rajan into a hug. “Of course I came. You don’t know me, but I would do anything for you.”

  Rajan had stiffened initially but the heartfelt words had him relaxing and accepting the offered comfort. He was suddenly, intensely glad to have his father here. The awkwardness he’d expected wasn’t present, perhaps because of the circumstances and urgency. Later on, he supposed, they would need to have some difficult conversations and clear the air, but for now, he truly felt as though he had an ally, someone he could lean on through what was to come.