To forget and put everything behind her, Zara chose to leverage her ultimate position as heiress to her father’s business and immediately set about learning the ropes. Within six months, she was making independent decisions and taking the business forward with the able help provided by her sharp mind. But when she got home each day, she felt like a wounded forest rabbit that had been thrown into a new environment and had to hone its survival instincts afresh.
One blessing came in the form of Shaheen’s decision to not let Zara stay with Joseph. She thus set up Cupid for her. With a trusted staff to take care of all her needs, Zara lived alone for more than two years until Rihana joined her. Zara was a reticent person who, in the company of her parents, became mum. Even though she shared a warm friendship with Rihana, in all their months together she had never quite opened up to her either.
‘Get into your bed, Tiger!’ Rihana commanded and Tiger complied. Tiger’s bed was besides Rihana’s in her room. She switched off the lights and soon fell asleep. Zara kept tossing around in her bed. It had been a long night for everyone in the house, including Tiger.
2
Final Destination
‘Wake up, Rihana! I’m leaving for office. You have to go visit Nandini,’ Zara rattled off while drawing the curtains aside to welcome the bright sunlight into the room. Zara realized there was something amiss in what she had said. Of course! It was two in the afternoon. Way past breakfast time! Only a night owl like Rihana would start her day at 2.00 p.m., that too only because Zara was forcing her out of bed.
Rihana hated mornings as much as Salman Khan hated putting on a shirt in his Bollywood movies. And she kept her eyes shut, wishing Zara would go to office without forcing her to wake up.
‘Are you even listening to me, Ri? I’m getting late. Wake up!’ Zara shouted and shook Rihana.
‘Why can’t you go and see Nandini on your way out? I’ll go in the afternoon,’ Rihana pleaded, her voice still heavy with sleep. She made absolutely no attempt to open those pretty almond-shaped eyes.
‘No, I can’t. I have an important meeting at work. Some key clients are visiting today. I have to seal this deal at any cost,’ said Zara firmly. She continued in a teasing tone, ‘Besides, it is already afternoon. You can go right away! Unless you mean tomorrow afternoon. I think if you go now, you can also meet Saif. I remember him saying that he would be there during the latter half of the day.’
Zara had pushed a button, and her experience with Rihana told her that it was the right one.
Rihana jumped up and sat upright in bed with her hair all over her face. She had long, thick curls that perfectly complemented her fair complexion, and bold eyes and lips. Simply put, she was a ravishing Indian beauty with a blooming figure. Her legs and arms were slim and toned.
Also, the confidence that being brought up in America had instilled in her made her irresistible to a multitude of men—at least those who were not intimidated by her. Rihana had done most of her primary schooling in New York. She had a degree in fine arts from Yale University, New Haven, with painting as her major. She had then moved to India to work under the renowned painter Habib Ansari. Rihana had met Zara when the latter had come to buy one of Habib’s paintings for her newly-set-up office. Habib had rich clients and his paintings were unaffordable for most people.
As Rihana was showing Zara around the gallery on that day of their first meeting, she had taken an instant liking to Zara’s air of calm. Zara also came across as extremely cultured and seemed to have a refined taste for the arts. So it was a shock to Rihana when Zara suffered a panic attack on seeing one of Habib’s paintings that depicted two men in a homoerotic pose, albeit in abstract form. Rihana had had to rush Zara to the hospital.
Although the circumstances of their first meeting were slightly bizarre, Zara had also, in turn, developed an instant liking for Rihana. Her charming smile had won her over within the first five minutes of their meeting. And the rest of her magic had worked on her slowly too. Her happiness was so infectious that Zara thought she could find a true companion in her. They were soon going out together most evenings, and Rihana helped Zara with the interiors of her new office.
Both of them were two very different people. The best part about their relationship was acceptance. Rihana never pushed Zara to talk, and Zara didn’t stop Rihana from talking. Rihana never asked Zara what exactly about Habib’s painting had led to her panic attack, and Zara never explained it either. It was an easy friendship—no conditions applied.
The friendship could not have come at a more opportune time for Rihana. She had already been grappling with the fact that her mentor, Habib, was suffering from blood cancer. Rihana was the only one taking care of him as his wife and children had abandoned him a long time ago. A few months later, Rihana finally lost Habib to cancer and found herself the sole benefactor of his lineage and estate, including his paintings and studio, worth millions. But the contacts of his clients, investors and sponsors that he had left in Rihana’s account were worth more than those millions. Rihana was grief-stricken and would have continued to live in her rented apartment had Zara not offered Rihana a place at Cupid, as they both needed company—each other’s, preferably.
Rihana’s parents were New Yorkers who would probably never leave their staid lives that revolved around their professions. Her father, Dr Bahri, was a famous paediatrician, while her mother, Salma Bahri, ran an IT firm. As parents, they really did give Rihana all the freedom to be whatever she wanted to be and pursue her dreams. Immediately after Rihana finished her graduation, she moved to India. She didn’t want to stay in New York, and when she got an opportunity to work under Habib, there was no stopping her, even though her mother wanted to open a gallery for her in New York.
Zara and Rihana had been housemates for over a year now, and both knew what the other was up to more often than not. Rihana knew Zara had sleepless nights and busy mornings, busy as a ticking clock, but didn’t seem to make any special effort to change her routine. The sanity that she was hanging on to by a thread was all due to her passion for her work, but her nights were like a deserted ship in a tumultuous, stormy ocean.
As Zara stood in front of Rihana, trying to wake her up on the pretext (read: temptation) of seeing the doctor she had developed the hots for, she smiled at her crazy, attractive friend.
‘Are you sure?’ Rihana asked Zara while pulling her hair back and tying it into a bun with a rubber band that she was wearing on her wrist.
‘Yeah, that’s what he said,’ Zara lied, but she had no choice. If Rihana had to be woken up completely, a carrot had to be dangled. And for now, Dr Saif would serve the purpose just fine!
Rihana had been off drinks for some time now and found it strange to wake up without the buzz of a hangover. The mornings sure were nice, but come evening, her vice would rear its ugly head, wanting to savour one more glass, and then one more, until she lost all control. She was consuming poison to counter the poison she felt running in her blood, not realizing that both were slowly killing her. The world envied them for their young age, their seeming confidence, their apparent wealth, their talents and their lives. But nobody knew of their demons, of the poisons that gave them life and the secrets that lay buried in their hearts.
For now, Rihana could not think of anything other than the handsome hunk in the white coat. She got ready in a jiffy, slipping on a pair of capris and a ganji top. The ganji showed off her pierced naval and a tattoo: caged birds, almost opening the doors to fly freely. Does that tattoo have a story? Zara had often wondered. Rihana paired her outfit with some casual denim shoes without laces. She looked informal, yet classy. She left for the hospital in her new Porsche Boxster, which was a gift from her mother for winning the Emerging Artist Award a year ago. She lovingly called the car Dhanno. These were the things with which her parents had tried to make up for the lack of a connection between her and them.
Kanhaiya had driven Zara to her office in South Ex before Rihana left. Rihana drove straight t
o the hospital and handed over the car for valet parking. She walked towards the reception and asked for Dr Saif.
‘He is in ward number 105,’ the receptionist answered after speaking on the intercom. Rihana thanked her and headed towards the ward.
‘Hi!’ Rihana said, simultaneously walking and waving at Saif. He was with a team of doctors who were examining a patient.
He was surprised to see her. After the late-night incident, he had assumed that she, like any other mistress of a household, had done her duty by getting Nandini medical help and would not come again to ask after her. But how wrong he had been! Saif handed his clipboard to a colleague and walked towards Rihana, not wanting the attention of the other doctors on this young lady. But it was too late. The doctors all stopped in their tracks, mesmerized by Rihana’s presence and intrigued with the familiarity with which she greeted Dr Saif. She seemed to be a confident girl who knew exactly what she wanted. And she seemed to have eyes only for Saif right now. How the other doctors hated Saif for the effect he had on women!
‘How are you?’ he asked as he reached her.
‘I’m good, doc. How is Nandini? Any progress?’ Rihana had a good reason to be in the hospital and did not want Saif to feel that she was there to see him. He didn’t need to know that—that’s how the power equation worked.
‘Dr Mohan has taken over Nandini’s case.’ Saif smiled.
‘But why?’ Rihana asked, utterly disappointed.
‘It was a very simple case for me to handle. But don’t worry, Dr Mohan is a very experienced doctor. Nandini is in safe hands.’
‘But I’m sure he isn’t as good-looking as you,’ Rihana blurted out, not sorry for her words.
Saif choked on his own laughter, completely delighted by Rihana’s remark.
Recovering quickly, he asked, ‘Have you seen her yet?’
Rihana shook her head.
‘Come, I’ll walk you there. She might be discharged today. Let’s see what Dr Mohan has to say.’ Saif and Rihana walked towards Nandini’s room, and the patient’s face lit up as soon as she spotted Rihana.
‘Didi, you woke up so early?’ Nandini asked.
Dr Saif chuckled at this. ‘It is three in the afternoon. I take it you are a very early riser.’
Rihana ignored his comment and, partly lying, said, ‘I came to see you, Nandini. How are you feeling now?’
Nandini’s eyes glistened with tears of happiness. She had rarely received such attention from her own husband and didn’t harbour many expectations from the rest of the world. But Rihana and Zara had taken care of her and her children and treated them like family, always, and that was comforting. Rihana was no longer uncomfortable with her lie. She believed that as long as lies make someone happy and mean no harm to anyone, it’s all right to let people believe in them.
‘So, Nandini works for you?’ said Saif, asking the first personal question. Rihana was happy that the conversation had taken a more informal turn.
‘Nandini has been working for my housemate, Zara, ever since she learnt to tie her shoelaces.’ The shoelaces did bring back a thought, but she brushed it aside. She wasn’t interested in ruining her mood.
‘You seem to be closer to her than your housemate,’ Saif said, making the assumption on seeing Rihana there instead of Zara, and also to make an impact with his praise.
‘She knows me inside out. And people who get to know me usually tend to like me most in the world,’ she responded with one eyebrow raised to let him know that she was being brazen.
‘Does she have marital problems?’ Saif tried to probe.
Just then, Dr Mohan walked in. Greetings were exchanged. Saif introduced Rihana to him as he started examining Nandini.
‘She seems all right now. We won’t have to keep her for long. In fact, you can take her home today. The stitches will need regular dressing though. You could come here or take her to any clinic close to your house. The stitches will be removed after two weeks,’ Dr Mohan said, handing over a prescription to Rihana.
‘I think I’ll get her back here since you know her history. I would rather follow up with you, Dr Mohan.’
This made Dr Mohan beam for two reasons: one, the compliment had come from this very beautiful lady, and two, that it had come in the presence of the eminent Dr Saif.
Dr Mohan had no inkling of the selfish interests Rihana had in mind in making such statements. Saif only smiled as he could tell when a woman was interested in him. And this woman had made no bones about this fact ever since she had walked into the hospital the previous night.
‘That would be great,’ Dr Mohan said as he signed the permission slip for Nandini to be discharged.
Saif was alone with Rihana while they were waiting outside the room for the nurses to help Nandini finish her packing.
‘So what do you do for a living, Rihana?’
‘Why don’t we catch up for a cup of coffee or a drink for more updates on each other? Tonight? My place?’ Rihana asked, wasting no time over small banter.
‘Hmm, tonight suits me, but I don’t drink,’ Saif answered politely, his unblinking eyes resting on Rihana’s bewitching smile. Rihana was aware of the effect she was having on him and was enjoying every bit of it.
‘Religion issues?’ Rihana asked, knowing pretty well that Saif Qureshi had to be a Muslim name.
‘No, health issues,’ Saif said matter-of-factly, reminding Rihana of Zara for a brief moment.
They planned to meet at seven in the evening and parted with smiles. Rihana bought medicines for Nandini from the hospital dispensary and completed the discharge formalities. But the hospital had run out of the prescribed painkiller. She asked the valet to get her car and asked the nurses to help Nandini into it. Once Nandini was seated comfortably, Rihana headed straight for Cupid.
‘So what have you decided?’ Rihana asked Nandini while shifting gears.
‘What can I decide, didi?’ Nandini seemed discouraged, almost as if she had given up on her fate.
‘Why don’t you just leave him and live a life of dignity and respect?’ Rihana asked. She knew what Nandini went through each time that drunkard husband of hers beat her up in front of their children. She understood what education could teach women all over the country: cultivating self-respect to not allow or endure any unfair behaviour.
‘Do you think leaving him will give me a life of dignity and respect? Society will swallow me like a python and spit out my bones after crushing me to death,’ Nandini said, trying to justify her stand. The vigour with which she said it made Rihana realize that she was right in a way.
Rihana also tried to evaluate her response by running through all the pros and cons from Nandini’s perspective. It depends on what choice a person makes, she thought. Especially in such high-pressure situations, some people are impulsive, some rational, while others are confused—but everyone was entitled to a choice, she thought.
‘What will you do now?’ asked Rihana, reframing her question.
‘I’ll try to forget whatever happened last night. When the wounds heal, memory fades.’ Nandini smiled sadly at Rihana and added, ‘If we want to move on, we have to forget. Even if we don’t forgive, we cannot stay glued to a bad phase, right?’
Rihana weighed Nandini’s words. Wasn’t what she had just said applicable to her in some ways too? Hadn’t she chosen to forget without forgiving? She spotted a chemist and stopped to pick up the medicine the hospital didn’t have in stock. But unfortunately, the medicines were unavailable there as well. The chemist asked her to check again for them in the evening.
Rihana was excited about Saif visiting her in the evening. She asked Zara to make herself scarce in the house when she got back from work. Zara was quite used to her friend’s way of life by now, so she decided to concentrate on her blog that evening. She had begun it a few months ago to pass the time in the evenings, writing about whatever was on her mind. Zara had been pleasantly surprised when numerous people had begun following her blog for her candid st
yle and sensible thoughts on day-to-day issues. Being savvy on social media helped, and Zara often found herself spending time on Facebook, Twitter and her blog in the evenings.
Sometimes Zara felt jealous of Rihana, as she seemed to be living on the edge, while the most exciting thing she had in her life was her blog. She was not one to keep this thought to herself and so had shared this with Rihana too, who had replied in her classic peppy tone, ‘You can only be alive in every moment when you’re living on the edge.’ However, on the other hand, Zara thought she was dying a slow death. But situations are always relative because the point of reference mostly varies for different people.
‘By the way, how is the proposal coming through, Zara? Did you sail through?’ Rihana asked, suddenly remembering what she had been told that afternoon.
‘They’ll let me know in a day or two. I think it went pretty well, but with investors, you can never say,’ Zara replied.
Rihana smiled and wished her luck, but Zara had other things playing havoc in her sensitive mind. ‘Listen, how long will you keep dating random men like this?’
Zara asked, her voice giving away her frustration and disapproval. She hadn’t failed to observe just how attractive Rihana was, and how each man who interacted with her was instantly hooked.
‘Hmm, I think you’re right; I should start doing random women too. Won’t that be different!’ She winked humorously, seeing a look of horror flit across Zara’s face. She laughed the next moment and added, ‘It’s better than dying a virgin, my dear. I’m telling you, if you don’t lose your virginity on earth, in this life, the Taliban in heaven will fuck you dry. They feast only on virgin angels,’ said Rihana, giggling at her own joke, while Nandini rolled her eyes at the macabre comparison.
‘I don’t think that the Taliban would’ve any place in heaven; and you, go on, make fun of me, but there are words like “relationship”, “commitment” and, most of all, “love”, which all have a much deeper meaning,’ Zara said defensively.
Love Bi the Way Page 3