A Sticky Wicket in Bollywood

by T. A. Chase

  Thankful that the odd disagreement had passed, and flattered and pleased by the invitation since he hadn’t yet been to his father’s house, Rajan clasped his father’s arms and smiled. “I am the one honoured. I would love to come. I think tomorrow night will be the wrap party, touch wood, but the following evening?”

  Bansi nodded and his hands came up to mirror Rajan’s. They shared the familial embrace for a moment before their walk continued, with Rajan looking forward even more to the days to come. He was healthier than he’d been in a long while, was growing closer to Bansi and would soon see Ajay again.

  The future looked bright.

  * * * *

  Ajay stared at the photo of Raj and Karishma cavorting in the water. He clenched his jaw as he saw the bright smile on Karishma’s face, looking for all the world like she was in love with Raj.

  Bloody hell, the woman’s a great actress.

  But to be honest, it wasn’t Karishma hanging all over Raj that bothered him, it was the fact that Raj wasn’t keeping her at arm’s length. If he and Raj were supposed to be together, there should be some sign that Raj was making an effort to cool the ‘relationship’ between him and his co-star. Yet every time Ajay opened a newspaper or looked at an online celebrity magazine, there was another picture of Bollywood’s hottest couple.

  It was really starting to annoy the shit out of Ajay. He’d stayed silent for the last month while Raj worked through his grief and tried to get his life under control. He’d been as supportive as he could, doing what he could to help Raj relax.

  Like all that sex was such a hardship.

  Even through his upset, the thought made him grin as he leant back on his chaise longue, and stared up at the blue sky above him. Ajay had just arrived back in Mumbai after doing some travelling to promote the Indian Premiere League. Mrs Mehra had made him some tea while he’d meditated out on the balcony off his suite. Now, though, his myriad thoughts of Rajan had him equal parts aroused and pissed off.

  So much for all that relaxation. Maybe I should just stop reading the newspapers and watching the news.

  Everywhere he turned, he couldn’t get away from the photos, and Ajay was starting to read the writing on the wall. Maybe at one point, right after he and Raj had got together, he’d believed everything was different this time. Somehow Raj would grow a pair and come out, admitting to the world that he loved Ajay.

  Ajay closed his eyes, and tried to beat down the hurt and anger.

  Hurt, because apparently Raj hadn’t found the courage to confess that he was gay or even to go about distancing himself from Karishma, and as far as Ajay was concerned, that meant that he didn’t mean as much to Raj as the man’s career did.

  Anger, because before Raj, he’d refused to live his life in the closet or as anyone’s dirty secret. Yet here he was, rarely going out to the clubs or even dinner anymore because there might be a possibility that Raj would call and want to come over. He’d turned into a teenage girl, waiting by the phone for the guy he wanted to call him.

  All his vows to himself about being true to his convictions had gone out of the window the moment he’d seen Raj again. Ajay shot to his feet, then began to pace. He should’ve known that he wouldn’t be able to keep his promise to himself when it came to Raj, and he was going to be left alone again.

  Raj wasn’t ever going to call off the fake engagement, or take Ajay anywhere in public as his boyfriend, partner, or whatever. He would be the lover Raj hid away while Karishma was the one who got to go places with Raj.

  His phone buzzed just as he was seriously considering throwing out every piece of clothing Raj had left in his bedroom. After stalking over to where he’d put it on his nightstand, he grabbed it to check the ID.

  It was a text from Raj.

  hey there.

  Damn it! Now , he gets in touch.

  He gripped the phone tight, wondering whether he should respond or not.

  hello

  what are you doing?

  Came back a few seconds after he sent his.

  just sitting at home. What about you?

  A few minutes passed before Raj texted him back.

  about to go to wrap party with Karishma and a few others.

  have fun

  There was nothing else he could say to that. He turned off his phone, and tossed it back on the bed. Here he was, waiting at home again, while Raj was going out with her.

  Something was going to have to change, and when Raj got back from Punjab, Ajay was going to sit him down, then have a heart-to-heart conversation with Raj.

  It was time to make a real decision about their relationship, and Ajay was afraid he was going to lose out again.

  * * * *

  Rajan looked at his phone with a frown, waiting. No messages back in the past few minutes since Ajay had tersely texted ‘ have fun’, even though Rajan had gone on to text about getting together in the next couple of days, since it had been a confirmed wrap on the location shoot and he’d be home soon, and also about seeing his father last night and finally being invited to his home.

  Glancing at the time and making a quick decision, he pressed the phone icon to call Ajay, and it went straight to voicemail. He jumped when there was a sudden pounding on his trailer door and he disconnected without leaving a message.

  “Hey, Rajan. Come on. We’re all waiting on you,” Karishma called and he opened the door to find her dressed to the nines, already walking away towards the hired car, tottering on her ridiculously high heels on the uneven ground and leaning heavily on Kavin. He gave Rajan a silly eye-rolling expression behind her back.

  “Doesn’t look like you’re waiting. Looks like you’ve already started. You can’t even walk,” he teased as he made sure he had his phone and wallet, then closed and locked the trailer door. He jogged to catch up with them. They climbed into the car with a few other people and headed to the private venue turned nightclub for their location wrap party.

  The cast and crew spent the night letting off steam and celebrating the end of the gruelling location shoot. Rajan enjoyed the dancing, though he kept the drinking to a minimum. The same could not be said for most of the rest of them, Karishma and Kavin included.

  At one point, they had double-teamed him in a dancing sandwich with Rajan as the filling. Though neither of them would normally be his first choice of partner for dirty dancing, the hoots of laughter and approval of the rest of the partiers in a circle around him had Rajan going along with it good-naturedly, even making a good show of it.

  Tomorrow he’d finally get to visit his father’s home, a place he’d wondered about almost all of his life. Then likely the next day he’d be back home in Mumbai.

  Back with Ajay.

  Throwing himself into the celebration, Rajan danced with a renewed fervour, his heart light.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The powers that be had thankfully been satisfied with the last of the daily rushes during their review that morning of the final two film sequences they’d shot, so everyone had been officially released to take a week-long break before heading back into the studio to start filming again. Rajan had packed his personal items and Kavin would take care of making sure the rest of his belongings got back to Mumbai.

  “See you next week.” Kavin gave a quick salute as Rajan climbed into the hired car. He handed the driver Rajan’s travel case to put in the boot. “You’re sure you don’t need a hotel reservation for tonight?”

  Rajan shook his head. “No, Bansi offered to have me stay the night at his house, and I can’t imagine why I wouldn’t. I’ll see you back in Mumbai.”

  “Okay. Text me if you need anything else before we get back in the studio.”

  “I’ll be fine, Kavin. I survived a long time on this earth without you.” Rajan winked.

  “Though I’m still hoping you’ll consider coming to work for me after the film wraps.”

  They’d had time to discuss it in the car the night before, seeing as they were the only two people not co
mpletely drunk after the party, and had decided to revisit the topic closer to the end of production.

  “Hmm, we’ll see. I’m in demand, you know.” Karishma, that shit, had overheard them talking and had piped in, offering to pay double whatever Rajan would.

  They laughed and said their goodbyes, then the driver set out towards Bansi’s home in Jalandhar.

  He tried calling Ajay, but got his voicemail. Considering the time of day, he might be working out or possibly meditating with his phone off. He left a message.

  “Hi, it’s me. We’re officially done here, so I’m heading over to my father’s now for a visit. I’ll be flying back to Mumbai tomorrow afternoon, so I’ll call or text you when I get in. I can’t wait to see you.” Rajan thought about all he wanted to talk about with Ajay. Way too much to get into while on voicemail. “I’ll see you soon. Bye.”

  He relaxed and listened to music for the rest of the drive to Bansi’s. They wound their way through the city for a while before the driver finally pulled up to a two-storey house with a balcony running across the top floor. Rajan stepped out and stretched, and smiled at a young boy who stopped to stare at him.

  The driver retrieved his bag for him and Rajan paid the man. “I won’t need you to wait.

  Thank you.”

  “Rajan, you’re here.” Bansi’s now-familiar voice came from above, and he looked up to see his father leaning over the railing above him. “Walk around to the courtyard, and I’ll meet you at the door.”

  He reached the entrance just as it opened. “Welcome to my home,” his father said, beaming, and pulling him in to a hug before taking his bag and urging him inside.

  The interior was cool, with high ceilings and minimal furniture. It made him think of Ajay and his dislike for overly decorated space. Bansi set his bag by the staircase before they walked through to the living area. “I hope the reason you brought your things is because you plan to stay tonight.”

  “Yes, if that’s still okay with you?”

  “Of course…” Bansi swallowed, and Rajan finally registered his nervousness. He continued, “Though I should probably tell you something before you make your final decision on that.”

  He gestured to the seating area, where a tea service was laid out on a low table. A bit concerned about his father’s cryptic statement and apprehensive demeanour, he seated himself and let Bansi arrange cups of tea for them.

  About the time he noticed that there was a third cup set out, a slight shuffle came from an arched doorway to the side of the living area. Rajan glanced that way but didn’t see anyone. He looked at Bansi questioningly as he accepted his tea.

  After waiting for a minute and becoming aware that whatever Bansi had to say was weighing heavily on him, he decided to get the ball rolling. “There is someone joining us?”

  His father nodded solemnly. “Yes. I had hoped an opportunity to talk to you about this would have presented itself before now, but it just never seemed like the right time. And I’m guessing that Satvika never discussed my domestic arrangements with you?”

  Domestic arrangements? “You are married?” Right after he asked, he shook his head.

  Obviously nothing that straightforward, else it wouldn’t be so difficult for his father to broach the subject. “You have someone living with you?” he corrected.

  Bansi nodded, looking a bit resigned. “I do.”

  “The little boy out front?”

  Bansi looked puzzled for a moment then smiled and shook his head. “No, that must be the neighbours’ child.”

  Rajan thought back over what he knew about his father. “Is this the lover you had before I was born? The one Maa mentioned that she let you go over?” He could tell from Bansi’s expression that he’d got it right. “You’re still together?” It was rather awe-inspiring to think that his father had shared a relationship with someone for that long without marrying them, though they had obviously had difficulties at some point, since Bansi had been with his mother at least long enough to have produced him.

  “We are.” It wasn’t Bansi who answered his question.

  Rajan’s eyes widened in shock at the very masculine voice that came from the direction he’d looked earlier.

  Of course…

  He rose as he turned to acknowledge the speaker, who was a slight, older man with salt and pepper hair, wearing wire-rimmed glasses. He came over to Rajan and confidently held his hand out in greeting. “Amit Bhatnagar.” His eyes betrayed his nervousness, though, and Rajan couldn’t move quickly enough to defuse their fears of his reaction.

  He clasped the man’s hand warmly in both of his. “Rajan Malik. I believe we spoke briefly when I called to tell Bansi about my mother’s illness.”

  Amit’s lips parted and his eyes flicked to Bansi then back to Rajan. “Yes… Yes, I answered that day. I’m sorry about your mother’s passing, Rajan. And it’s so very good to meet you at last.”

  Bansi turned on his heel and quickly left the room, his back stiff. Rajan made to take a step to go after him, and Amit gently caught his arm. “Allow him to compose himself. He wouldn’t want to show the release of his fears in front of his son.”

  Understanding that reasoning, and feeling a bit emotional himself at learning his father’s secret, he nodded and sat again, gesturing to the tea. “Please join me, Amit, and we’ll wait for Father to finish whatever urgently needed his attention.” He smiled conspiratorially and Amit relaxed.

  They discussed the film Rajan had been working on, and Rajan was pleased to find that Amit was a film buff who had a remarkable memory for actors and roles they’d played over the years. Though Rajan had never aspired to act himself until he’d been pulled into it, he’d always enjoyed the history of filmmaking and watching movies from the golden age of film, something he still did when he had free time—sort of a busman’s holiday, to be sure, but he hardly thought of himself as in the same league as the actors of old. Rajan’s love of the art, in fact, had made his somewhat reluctant immersion into that career at the behest of his mother tolerable.

  They shared a lively discussion of some of their favourites, and when Bansi finally rejoined them, they deliberately continued the topic for a few more minutes to give him a chance to settle in before more personal matters were raised.

  At a lull in the conversation, Rajan finally turned to his father. “Why don’t we talk about the elephant in the room before it stampedes?” He gave his father an encouraging smile and Bansi returned it gratefully.

  “You were the result of one of the most confusing points of my life.” His gaze drifted over to Amit, who remained silent and supportive at his side. “It is never easy, I suppose, to find that you are different from those around you, and being a man who finds other men attractive… Well, it was considered an abomination. Try telling that to someone in the first rush of love, however.”

  Amit reached out and lightly placed a hand on Bansi’s knee. He patted it and continued his story.

  “We had found each other through friends and knew right away we were made for one another. But it became difficult.” He gave a deep sigh. “Very difficult, and when I was given the opportunity to go to Mumbai for an apprenticeship with a distant relation, my head overruled my heart, and I left Amit and moved south. I immediately regretted it, but my course had been set. So I tried to settle in, and that’s when I met your mother.”

  Bansi smiled wryly. “I will spare you both the details, but suffice to say that, though I was completely unsuitable—or maybe because of that fact—she pursued me diligently until she caught me. And I was lonely there. She made things brighter, and for a while, we were happy. Then she found out she was pregnant.”

  Rajan was rapt at the story of his beginnings, with all of the details his maa had never shared.

  “She belonged to the studio, one of the rising stars for them. Brash and bright and somehow got away with things that others would never have been able to. She shocked everyone by proudly announcing that she was secretly married and wa
s going to be a mother. When the news got out, I did the right thing and told her we would be married in fact. She laughed, said that she didn’t need a man to have a child, that part had been done and the rest she could do herself. We had quite a row about it. Then she dropped a bombshell. She knew about Amit, had discovered a box of hidden pictures and letters and mementoes. When she mentioned his name, I’m sure my reaction only confirmed things for her.”

  Rajan tried to imagine his mother, so young and already so in control of her life. He was beginning to realise why she had always reacted so vehemently to any hint of his relationship with Ajay, why she had taken him away from university and kept him under her strong, guiding hand. Had she suspected that he might have the same leanings as his father? He could also see her deciding to play the jilted bride bravely raising a child on her own, as opposed to a single mother whose son had been fathered by a gay man. And she’d played it well. Not until she’d been on her deathbed had she told the truth. Not even to him—and it had been his life she’d rewritten the script for.

  “She said it was beyond dignity for her to be second to anyone, much less a man.

  And…” He paused, looking guilty. “I’m ashamed to admit that part of me was relieved. I would have married her and helped raise you, but I’d finally realised that I would never be happy with a woman, that I missed Amit and loved him. After she made it clear that I would have no role in your life, I gladly came back to Jalandhar and convinced Amit to give me a second chance. We’ve been together ever since.” He cast a fond look at his partner. “Satvika kept me abreast of your life and accomplishments, but reminded me each time that insinuating myself into your lives and possibly having the truth about us come out would ruin her career. So I respected her wishes. I knew she was providing you with a good upbringing, and as time went by and you continued to thrive, I stayed in the background.