Her thoughts now shifted to Zara, who was sitting next to her and sipping her drink while taking bites of pizza. Her chocolate-skinned body glistened against the contrasting cream colour she wore. Rihana couldn’t help but admire her beautiful friend and wondered what it would be like to touch Zara, who was soft and warm.
Zara was exquisitely beautiful in every way. But those eyes were a giveaway. Those eyes seemed to speak of so much sadness. Rihana would’ve loved to see her cry, just to see Zara flush all that sadness out with her tears. She was giving her alcohol . . . not to make her blurt out her secrets, but to encourage her to reveal more of herself.
‘Can I have some more?’ Zara asked Rihana, handing over the empty glass to her, having gulped down the last sip. Rihana poured her another drink, but a much smaller one this time. Rihana was taking it slow because she wasn’t sure how much alcohol Zara could take. Also, she wanted Zara to unwind and relax, so that she could open up to Rihana and speak her heart out—not pass out.
‘So Zara, how do you feel about starting a new journey from today?’ Rihana initiated the conversation.
‘Absolute bliss. I feel I’ve broken the shackles of dependency that bound me to my horrible parents,’ said Zara in a drunken tone.
‘But why do you hate your parents so much?’ Rihana had to be careful about what and how she spoke to Zara. If Zara broke down, and the emotions became difficult to handle, she herself could break down too.
‘Have you ever seen any educated parents who are keen on getting their daughter married at twenty-one? Not just keen—insistent! Can you imagine that!’
‘I thought you wanted to get married. Isn’t marriage a beautiful thing?’
‘With parents like mine—who possessed the art of turning anything beautiful into something ugly and meaningless—marriage wasn’t a good idea. I was torn between Allah and Jesus, and then what little individuality was left of me got completely lost when they got me married. They didn’t even check my husband’s background. They just found Vinay—that’s his name—and tied me to him like I was a cow meant for barter. No, but even a cow is treated with more respect in India.’
‘But what happened?’ Rihana was slowly getting Zara there.
‘He was gay!’
‘What’s wrong with that?’
‘Not gay as in happy. Vinay was a homosexual . . . to the extent that he would have gone all the way to London to find out—and eventually be disappointed—that Big Ben is a clock.’
‘Oh! But gay men are often very creative. There are so many in my painting fraternity,’ said Rihana, more to probe than to really state a fact.
‘But marriages can’t be run on that creativity alone, Ri. You need creativity in other quarters too. You know what I mean?’ Zara broke down.
‘Yes! You’re right. How did you handle it?’ Rihana said softly, urging her to keep going.
‘A month after I got married, I discovered that he was seeing a man. I had no choice but to walk out of such a suffocating relationship. If only he had had the spine to be honest with me when we were about to get married. I am educated, I would have understood his inclination and handled the situation at home in a win-win way for both somehow. But no . . . He chose to be a coward . . . and ruined whatever little faith I had left in the institution of marriage.’
‘And he never came after you?’
‘It works to their advantage, doesn’t it! His parents are using my convenient sham of a marriage with him to keep up appearances in society that all is well.’
‘So you haven’t even begun the divorce proceedings?’
‘No, I don’t want to ever face him again. It’s nauseating. And it hurts.’
‘I understand, but every person should have the freedom to live according to their sexual orientation.’
‘Of course, they do. I am not saying they should kill their true feelings and pretend to be what they are not. All I am saying is that they shouldn’t put another person through a marriage with them and ruin their life.’ Zara was sobbing now, so Rihana drew her close and held her in her arms.
She was glad that Zara had let some of the poison out of her system.
‘Can I have another drink?’ Zara was begging, it seemed. Numbing pain with alcohol was the last thing Rihana wanted Zara to do as the former was already a victim of it.
‘This is the last one,’ Rihana said in a somewhat stricter tone and poured another small drink.
It was two in the morning, and Tiger was waiting for Rihana to get into bed so he could follow suit. But when he saw that the girls weren’t budging from their spots, he dragged his beanbag with his teeth from the living room to where the girls were sitting. He walked in circles around them, until he finally lay down, tired, and slept.
‘Why didn’t you seek a divorce? You need to move on with your life. And considering the circumstances, I am sure he would have cooperated. You should have sued him for all the mental trauma you went through because of his one lie,’ Rihana said. She was struck by how similarly Nandini and Zara had responded to divorce, despite the vast divide in their levels of education and exposure to ideas.
‘I did want to, Rihana. Nobody wants to have a tag attached to him or her that does them more harm than good. But I had to first make sure I had financial independence. With my mind sometimes failing me, I couldn’t have focused on two important things at the same time, let alone one.’
‘That makes sense. So now that one has been taken care of, what do you want to do about the other?’
‘For starters, I want to tie him up and toss him down from his thirteenth-floor office.’
Rihana smiled at Zara giving vent to her anger. She was being cleansed. So she turned to her and asked, full of genuine curiosity, ‘Did you actually see him have sex with a man?’
‘Let’s just say I saw enough to know what I know,’ Zara said, sighing.
‘Stop being such a prude, woman! Tell me the details!’
‘It was such a shock to walk in on him having sex with another man that I’m allowed to be a prude, Rihana.’
Rihana finally understood why Zara had had that panic attack at Habib’s studio on seeing a painting that depicted homosexual love. She felt for Zara. ‘I agree. Okay, they didn’t play fair with you and should have just been honest instead of using you as a pawn in their homosexual son’s life.’
‘Not just unfair, they played dirty and dark . . . They ruined my life!’ Zara broke down again as she finished her drink in one big gulp.
‘It’s okay, Zara. Let it go. Plus I don’t see how your life is ruined. You are a wonderfully successful businesswoman holding an envious position in society; you are a beautiful woman whom men would die to be with, and more than all of that, you have me in your life! That doesn’t sound like “ruined” to me. And even though it led to your mind being overburdened and you doing crazy stuff sometimes, I am sure that phase won’t last too long either,’ said Rihana, comforting her.
Zara looked at the bottle, and Rihana shook her head with a smile. So Zara put her glass back on the table and said in a slur, ‘I’m sleepy now.’ Rihana was pleasantly surprised to hear that from Zara, perhaps for the first time in ages, and that too without any medication. She helped Zara to bed, took off the jeans she was struggling with and left her in her innerwear. Rihana wasn’t sure if she should remove those as well, but then decided to let it be. What if Zara woke up the next morning, not remembering anything after being drunk, and went crazy thinking about what she had been up to?
Zara fell asleep instantly, leaving Rihana to gaze at her adoringly. Tiger shifted himself—bed-and-beanbag—into Zara’s room. He hated to be left alone. Rihana was also surprised because Zara seemed to be sleeping a naturally deep sleep rather than the medicine-induced slumber she was used to! Rihana was then compelled to pick up her paint and brushes. Seeing a beautiful woman lying in front of her so peacefully made her want to touch Zara. To feel her skin on her hands and perhaps just look at her while she slept. And so she go
t all her painting equipment and painted the most beautiful picture of Zara that night, with only Tiger around to watch the process.
She finished just as dawn was breaking and left the painted canvas in Zara’s room. Satisfied and overcome with sleep, she headed to her bed, with Tiger in tow with his bed. She’d thought Tiger was sleeping. But the cute bugger had been keeping an eye on her the whole time!
The next day, Rihana woke up and ran to Zara’s room to see if she was up yet. She saw that the scotch had worked wonders on her friend. Zara was just as she had left her a few hours ago—sleeping like a baby.
Rihana stood and looked at the painting for a while. She then looked at Zara, her inspiration for that wonderful piece of art. When Zara stirred in her sleep, Rihana wondered if her gaze had been that intense.
‘Good morning!’ Zara greeted as she yawned and stretched. On realizing that she wasn’t wearing much, she covered herself slightly with the sheet. Rihana smiled. Being drunk was way too liberating perhaps.
‘A good morning, indeed,’ Rihana replied.
Zara’s eyes flicked over to the painting. ‘Did you paint me?’ she croaked, realizing it was her essence on that canvas.
‘It’s one of the most beautiful paintings I’ve ever painted, Zara. What do you think?’ Rihana said. But Zara was quiet, so she continued, ‘And do you know why it’s so beautiful?’
‘Why?’ Zara looked at Rihana with childlike curiosity in her beautiful eyes.
‘Because I feel it portrays pain . . . rather, the pain that has just been released from a person. I saw glimpses of the real you yesterday.’ Rihana picked up a pen from the side table and signed the painting. Zara’s eyes were sparkling; she was clearly having a moment with herself, Rihana thought. Without disturbing her, Rihana neatly untucked the painting from the canvas, rolled it up and handed it to Zara.
Zara was touched beyond words. She pulled Rihana in for a quick hug and said thank you in a hoarse voice overcome with emotion. As Rihana hugged her back, half bending on her bed, Zara felt loved and cared for. She found in Rihana’s embrace the warmth she had been missing all along. She did not want this moment to end; she wanted to stay nestled in those arms as it felt safe and happy.
‘Did you sleep well?’ Rihana asked, pulling herself back up and looking at Zara lovingly.
‘That would be an understatement! I have no clue when my head touched the pillow.’
‘I told you long ago to try conventional remedies. They always work.’ Rihana winked at Zara and then said in a gentle tone, ‘Talk to the man you married, Zara. And please file for a divorce! Get a life.’
Zara nodded in agreement. She was late to work, but didn’t worry much about it. She was feeling alive after ages. She realized that she had gained something new by letting go of something old inside her, even if through mere words. And everybody from Nandini to Gudiya to Kanhaiya to Tiger could sense that change in her. It was the old Zara and the result was beautiful.
‘Get the car, Kanhaiya!’ Zara said, as she was ready to leave.
‘Ji, Madam,’ Kanhaiya replied and promptly left.
‘Rihana, Tiger’s vaccination is due. You’ll have to take him to the vet.’
‘I don’t have the stomach to see them stick a needle in him. You will have to come with me to Dr Bhardwaj,’ Rihana said, as if she was the one getting the injection.
‘Okay, my brave warrior!’ Zara laughed. ‘I’ll see you in the evening. Make sure you get an appointment with the vet.’
Rihana called up Dr Bhardwaj’s clinic to book an evening appointment. As she was speaking to the attendant, she heard a call-waiting beep on the line. She saw that it was Manoj Khurrana, the CEO of Sheraton.
She chose to ignore his call for the time being and finished booking an appointment for Tiger. She then dialled Manoj’s number and spoke, ‘Good afternoon, Mr Khurrana! How are you? And what can I do for you?’
‘Hello, Rihana! Don’t be so formal. You can call me Manoj.’ Rihana knew that this was one of the ways for old men to feel young.
‘But I feel “Mr Khurrana” is far more appropriate for a dignified person like you. You deserve every bit of respect from me,’ Rihana said politely.
‘I called up to ask if you could make another painting for us as the one we chose earlier will be taken by the Maharani.’
‘Oh yes! She liked that one. Well, I’ll need some inspiration to start on my next piece, Mr Khurrana.’
‘I get it. So how much advance shall we send?’
‘Oh, that’s not what I meant by inspiration, Mr Khurrana. To make something really sensational, one needs to feel truly inspired.’
‘Isn’t money inspiration enough?’
‘For inspiration, I use my heart, not my mind, Mr Khurrana. And those are two separate compartments.’
‘That’s true! Creative people like you use their hearts, whereas we are mere accountants, applying corrections to corrections.’
‘That’s what life is, Mr Khurrana—applying corrections to corrections,’ Rihana said with a smile.
‘I think we should catch up sometime soon, whenever you’re free?’
‘Yes, why not?’ Rihana appreciated his not beating around the bush.
‘Hope to see you and your painting soon.’
Rihana hung up thinking she had to find inspiration. Soon.
It was five in the evening and Zara had not returned from work yet. Rihana decided to call her as Tiger’s appointment was scheduled for 6 p.m.
‘Where are you, Zara? Did you forget we have to take Tiger for his vaccination!’
‘Rihana, sorry I got late. I’ll directly head to the vet from here and meet you and Tiger there?’ Zara seemed to be in a hurry.
‘Okay, but tell Kanhaiya he may have to stick around with Dhanno if there is no parking space at the clinic,’ Rihana said.
‘You and your Dhanno! Who names their car, Rihana?’
‘If only I could leave Tiger inside the car, I wouldn’t have to worry about the car. He loves to put his nose up to the half-open window and see people moving about. No one dare touches my Dhanno in his presence. But then, he is the one getting vaccinated. Can’t leave him there.’
‘You should look at Tiger’s terrified face when you drive. You’ll probably want to give up on driving Rihana.’
‘That’s what you said about my drinking too. But I’ve pulled through with Tiger, haven’t I?’
‘I’m done arguing with you. Now come quickly!’
‘We are not arguing, we are discussing.’
‘Rihana, I’ve seen my parents go through an ugly divorce. I definitely know the difference between the two. And I think you should hurry up. I’m almost there,’ Zara said, and hung up so Rihana could get ready.
Nandini had gathered Tiger’s medical records together, and Rihana rushed out with Tiger on his leash.
‘What do you want to have for dinner, didi?’ Nandini yelled while Rihana was driving out of the gate.
She stopped and said, ‘Cook Zara’s favourite dish—fish and chips!
‘Okay, didi. And what will you have?’
‘I’ll have my favourite.’
‘You mean wine?’ Nandini asked, confused.
‘Noooo, I mean chilli chicken. With wine, of course,’ Rihana chuckled as she left for the clinic.
As expected, there was no parking space at the clinic, so Rihana called Kanhaiya and handed over the keys of the car to him.
‘Owning a car like Dhanno feels probably like what Demi Moore must have felt with Ashton Kutcher—she was proud to have him and ride him, but very insecure to leave him alone. Dhanno is my Ashton Kutcher,’ Rihana said to Zara as she put Tiger on a leash.
Rihana added, almost as an afterthought. ‘I don’t know why things like cars or liquor are gender-sensitive! Men conveniently address their drinks and cars as a “she”. Have you ever wondered about this, Zara? I should’ve given a masculine name to my car . . . Something like Gabbar perhaps.’
‘It’
s not the men who do it, it’s the language.’
‘Damn the language! I’m sure that the inventor of language was also a man.’
Rihana looked frustrated. But Zara had such an infectious smile on her face that Rihana had no option but to smile back too.
‘Miss, are you Rihana?’ A man with a dog on a leash asked, as he came forward and addressed Zara. She shook her head and pointed in the right direction.
‘That would be me,’ said Rihana.
‘Do you mind if I get my dog examined first? He has swallowed a pen drive.’ The man seemed to be truly distressed.
‘Oh, okay! Sure, we could wait,’ Rihana said, sensing a genuine emergency. They were both glad that they were there for more mundane things like a routine vaccination for Tiger.
The man thanked them politely and headed towards the doctor’s cabin. Rihana had just about opened her mouth to say something to Zara when she heard her say the exact same thing: ‘He was cute.’
Rihana was so excited to hear Zara saying that, and added her bit. ‘Cute is really an understatement, girl. You could say he’s the best I’ve seen in a vet clinic.’
‘I think he was a St Bernard.’
‘St Bernard?’ Rihana asked, surprised.
‘I was talking about the dog, Rihana!’ Zara exclaimed.
‘I’m not into bestiality, Zara. I was talking about the man with the St Bernard,’ Rihana clarified.
Both of them smiled, realizing what a funny scenario this had turned out to be. They sat in the waiting area, Rihana caressing Tiger’s head and Zara observing other people’s pets. After about ten more minutes, the man with the St Bernard came out and thanked Rihana once again.
‘Is that your pet?’ he asked, pointing at Tiger.
‘Yes, his name is Tiger,’ Rihana said proudly.
‘And your pet’s?’ Rihana asked the man.
‘His name is Gabbar.’
‘And you’re Samba?’ Rihana asked in good humour.
‘You’re not the only one fond of that name, Rihana,’ Zara said sarcastically.
‘Ha ha, no. I’m Zubair.’
Love Bi the Way Page 7