by S. , Sindhu
“Shall we sit on those?” she asked, pointing to the flat rocks at a distance. The group of youngsters who had been occupying the place had left.
They walked along the bank towards the rocks. She picked up a few pebbles, taking care not to collect two of the same kind. They would be part of her precious collection of keepsakes, he knew.
Water from the drain of a nearby restaurant flowed into a gully beside the river.
“Why is it allowed?” Anjali looked towards the restaurant, lips pulled to a side in irritation.
“I’ll ask a colleague at the Tribune to do a story,” he said. The smile returned to her face.
Anjali clutched his arm as they sat there, watching the tranquil river flow over the rocky riverbed. It was the first time she had touched him since they had greeted each other that morning. He hugged her back and held her hand, staring at the river as it flowed cheerfully. The Sutlej soothed the spirits.
“You look adorable when you are lost in thought,” he said.
Anjali leaned in even closer.
“I missed you terribly,” he said. “Did you miss me?”
She rested her head on his shoulder, holding his arm tighter.
“I want to ask you something, Siddh.”
He sat upright, letting go of her hand, feeling edgy.
“It’s just a supposition. In case Chandni comes to hear about us, would she believe it?”
“Hah!” He shrugged his shoulders, raised his brows to indicate the stupidity of such a thought. “She won’t hear. And even if she does by some weird chance, I don’t think she will believe it. She knows me well.”
Anjali looked at him, her face turning pale.
“I mean we need not fear such a thing. She knows I am fully committed to her.”
“You don’t consider our relationship a mistake, do you, Siddh?” Her voice broke as she completed the question.
“Anjali, please, don’t twist my words. I was only trying to answer your supposition. What am I to reply? You expect me to say that she would be delighted? Or that she would be angry and leave me? I don’t even wish to think on those lines.
“You know how important my family is to me, don’t you? What you probably don’t know is what a wonderful person Chandni is. I wish I could introduce her to you,” Siddharth went on, placing his hand on her arm.
Anjali pushed it away. His attempt to dilute the effect of his words with a comforting gesture failed. Her face flushed red as if the hot springs instead of blood were rushing through her veins. He watched her shudder, then tremble. Should he comfort her with a lie? That would only give her false hope and create more problems for him in future.
They remained quiet for a while, listening to the river gurgle over the pebbly riverbed.
“OK, what if she asks you not to meet me, to cut off all relations with me?”
He wiped beads of perspiration from his forehead with his handkerchief.
“Anjali, Anjali…Why do you want to spoil another weekend discussing possibilities? It’s absurd. Forget it. Let’s cross that bridge when we come to it.”
He grabbed her closer. She pushed him away.
“I must know this, Siddh. I must. Would you go away from my life, just like that? You would?”
“How can you even imagine such things? You are a part of my life, a very important part. We will be together as long as I am alive. But you must remember that Chandni is my wife, the mother of my sons. I made a commitment to her twenty years back, one I must keep. I would want to keep it. That’s why I keep telling you that we must be more careful. I would rather she heard nothing about you.”
Anjali stared hard at the river. She would not look at him.
“You OK?” Siddharth asked after a while.
Anjali merely shifted her gaze to the little pool near her feet.
She could not blame him. He had not forced her into a relationship. She had, in her right senses and willingly, chosen to be with him. Nothing had changed during the past year, except that Anjali was more possessive now. She remained insecure, irritable, and easily upset most of the time. And they had frequent tiffs. He turned to look at her. Anjali was staring at the water with a cheerless expression.
“Are you angry with me?” His fear changed to concern.
She shook her head and smiled at him with sad eyes, moving closer.
“Shall we go? I must lie down,” she said.
Back in the room, Anjali looked tired. He watched her recline with her eyes closed, tears trickling down her cheeks.
She woke up close to sunset. Siddharth was looking at the river from the balcony. She walked towards him and stood leaning against him, her head against his shoulder, as the river shimmered under the fading sun.
The water flowed rhythmically, as if it were set on a timer. The hot springs on the fringes quietly joined the cold river water, blending into one.
“Why did these springs flow into the river and lose their character?” Anjali wondered aloud. “Did they really not have a choice?”
“Neither do we,” he said, locking her into a tight embrace.
She smiled and clung to him.
“You were fast asleep,” he said. “I didn’t want to disturb you.”
“Shall we go down to the river?” she asked, stretching her arms. “I’ll get ready. But I must eat something first. I am terribly hungry.”
She looked cheerful when they returned to the riverside. He, too, felt relaxed.
They watched the moon come up over the quiet river. The few remaining tourists were heading to their cars for their drive back to town. Siddharth and Anjali were the only ones booked into the guesthouse for the night.
Anjali surprised him with a tight hug the instant they entered the room. She rarely expressed affection so intensely. She played a passive partner until they neared the end of their lovemaking.
Siddharth smiled. Anjali was behaving like a wife for the first time. It was a pleasant change.
She kissed him on the lips, her teeth launching an attack. He felt excited at the clicking sound when her teeth locked against his for a second. She almost drove him into the huge chair and settled on his lap. She guided his mouth towards her neck, shoulders, and farther down, moving her impatient hands over his neck and back. She would not let him stop or do it his way. She wouldn’t let him move to the bed.
“Are you drunk?” He asked in disbelief when she finally let him go.
She merely laughed.
“So that’s the wild side of Anjali Menon?” he asked.
She smiled at his teasing.
He loved her scent. She tasted brackish and felt like guava skin on his tongue when they resumed their lovemaking. Her sharp nails pierced his back as she pulled him towards her, shifting her hips and wrapping her legs around him.
“Don’t let go so soon. Please stay,” she pleaded.
“But you need to be careful,” he reminded her.
“It’s OK, nothing will go wrong,” she said.
Should he worry about protection? Maybe she had taken care of it.
“Don’t worry. Please stay,” she pleaded.
He broke into a sweat as she moved her fingers through his hair. Anjali closed her eyes and rested her head on his shoulder as he leaned back, exhausted.
“That was great,” he said, and then laughed in surprise. “By the way, where did you learn all this?” he asked with a wink, laughing.
She laughed along. “Books and the movies; where else can it be? You enjoyed it?”
“Of course, yes. That’s how we should spend our time together, not fighting over imaginary fears and insecurities,” he said.
“May I ask you something?” she asked, biting her lower lip.
“Of course, Anjali,” he said, worrying if she would bring Chandni back to their conversation.
“This Sunaina, was she your girlfriend?”
“No no,” he laughed. “She’s just a friend, Anjali.”
She did not appear convinced.
&nb
sp; “But why did she call up while you were travelling? Did she know you were away?”
“She wanted to invite me to a party at her house, with family,” he stressed the last part to indicate it was a normal social invitation. “Now let’s stop discussing others. We have already spent a lot of time on this.”
“But you said you would bring her to Shimla.”
“I was teasing you, Anjali. You took it seriously? But I should not have lost my temper. I am sorry…sorry.” He kissed her to assure her that he meant every word of it.
“What am I to you, Siddh?”
“You are my girl, my dear Anjali.”
“Am I the only woman in your life, I mean other than your wife?”
“You have a doubt?”
She shook her head. “No.”
“Then why ask?” He didn’t try to hide his irritation.
“Are we lovers?”
“What’s wrong, Anjali? You never probed like this before. We never thought such details were important. We were both clear about our relationship. Let me put it in your words. Quote, unquote: Ours is an intimate friendship, a cherished yet discreet companionship. Right?”
She let out a sigh in reply.
.
24
CHAPTER
Encounter
The phone kept ringing. He rushed out of the bathroom, glancing at the clock on the bedroom wall.
‘AJ’ flashed on the mobile screen. Why was Anjali calling him so late at night?
“Hello…”
No reply.
Something was not right. Chandni was fast asleep. He walked out to the balcony.
“Hello, Anjali, are you there?”
He heard her whimper. Then, “Tell me about your relationship with Miranda.”
“Which Miranda?” he asked, feeling shook up.
“How many Mirandas do you have sex with?”
“What? What are you talking about? Which Miranda?”
“Your former colleague, the one in Australia, that secretary turned reporter. Remember?”
“Oh her? She relocated years ago,” he said, hoping that would make his cheating less painful.
“Did you have sex with her when she was visiting India in March?”
“No.”
“Don’t lie to me. She just told me you did.”
“How did you find her? Facebook? Are you stalking me? Were you snooping on me?” Siddharth was angry. His body trembled.
“Shut up. Don’t bother how. Just tell me if it’s true,” she yelled. It scared him. It was so unlike Anjali.
“Sh… she’s lying,” he stuttered.
“I know she’s not. She told me stuff only a woman you have slept with would know. At least admit the truth now, you fool.” He heard her sobs.
“Listen, I will come to you this weekend and explain everything.”
“Tell me now. Did you do it with her?”
“Not much. She just came on to me.”
“You mean she held a gun to your head and made you sleep with her?”
“Calm down. It was just once. That’s all.”
“That’s all? What do you mean by that’s all, Siddh? Tell me, what exactly did you do?”
“The usual stuff…”
“So you did it, you really did it with her?” She was crying loudly now.
He felt terrible.
“Why did you do that? Why? I have never refused you sex. Besides, you have your wife, for variety. You do it with all available women? How many in all? Tell me, I want to hear.” She sounded hysterical.
“Please calm down, Anjali. Please go to sleep.”
She hung up.
His heart was beating faster. He moved his tongue over his dry lips, even as he placed the mobile on the table, hand trembling nonstop. He was not sure what Anjali would do.
The incident with Miranda had happened a month after Anjali had shifted to Shimla. They had been in a full-fledged relationship. And that made him a two-timer to Anjali.
But Anjali was OK with his cheating on his wife. So why should she make his tryst with Miranda such an issue?
But if that was the case, why did he feel guilty?
.
25
CHAPTER
Squabble
Anjali would not budge.
Siddharth tugged at her arm. No success. He tried to pull her up with both hands. She resisted, and slumped on the ground stubbornly.
How had she become so heavy all of a sudden? He tried again, in vain.
“Please come and sit in the car. Let’s go. We can discuss this in the car, or the hotel. Don’t create a scene.”
They were at the steps leading to Jhakoo Hill.
His appeal made it worse. She stared at him, narrowing her eyes as if to scan his mind. How could he make the neurotic woman understand that it was a bad idea to quarrel in public?
Siddharth decided to force her up one more time, even if it meant being rough. That is when she screamed.
He dropped her hand instantly and bolted towards his car, his head bent to avoid stares. It was a good thing that he had brought his own car this time. He drove off, hoping she would call after him, out of fear or shame, if not sense. He was sure that even though she was upset, Anjali would not want to stay crouched there like a tramp.
But she waited a while before calling him to demand: “Drop me at the institute.”
Siddharth had known from the very start of the conversation how it would end: in a mess, as usual.
It began with the usual, “Can I ask you something?” followed by, “You’ll tell me the truth?”
A month since Miranda had exposed him; Anjali was still a nervous wreck. Siddharth had tried every trick in his book to pacify her and regain her confidence.
It was his second visit since that midnight phone call earlier that month.
She refused to believe he could be loyal anymore. Once a cheat, always a cheat.
She said she only wanted to know what she was to him when he cheated with Miranda. She demanded to know if she was anything at all to him then, and now.
“Not again, please, Anjali. Please don’t start that again.”
Before he could say more, she began the tirade, “Did you feel more pleasure when you sucked her boobs? Was it more exciting to suck those saggy boobs?”
Instead of feeling irritated or angry at her probing, he felt sad.
They were returning from a party during Miranda’s last visit to Delhi. She wanted him to drop her at her friend’s place. He did not suspect anything when she suggested they stop at a secluded place to chat. He froze when she started unbuttoning her blouse as he parked the car close to the sidewalk. He was shocked yet thrilled when she hurriedly unzipped him and volunteered a blow job.
“Anjali, I don’t know what came over me. She seduced me. I regret it. I will regret it for the rest of my life. Please forgive me.”
He repeated the lines and looked at her pleadingly, tears welling up in his eyes. Now, looking at Anjali weeping miserably on the same seat where Miranda had sucked him to rapture, he felt powerless. A terrible ache made his heart heavy.
Anjali gazed at him ruefully.
“You felt more pleasure with her? You entered her? How long were you inside her?”
“It happened too quickly,” he said, staring at his toes.
“Means she was more exciting, right?”
He stared at a distant point, not knowing how to appease her.
Anjali looked at him searchingly, her face red, which made the pale, dry lips stand out.
“No,” he almost yelled.
He looked at her swollen eyes and said, breathing hard, “You have asked me the same questions a hundred times before. And I have answered you the same way each time. My answers will remain the same even if you ask me a thousand times more, because that’s the truth. So please don’t ask. You are killing us. Don’t you realise? Don’t do it again.”
Her sadness turned into fury. She began shouting abuses, regrets,
and allegations, the usual pattern.
He watched the road ahead, not able to think of anything else to say. He felt sweaty despite the November chill.
.
26
CHAPTER
Din
Anjali was glad the institute gave a winter break to scholars. Otherwise, she would not have been able to enrol in the December batch for the Vipassana spiritual retreat.
She had to give aai’s advice a chance. Ever since Siddharth had admitted to cheating, her mind was spinning out of control. After weeks of trying and failing, she was convinced she needed help.
Anjali reached Igatpuri much before dark. The small town in Maharashtra was about three hours travel from Mumbai. The town was known for its meditation centre.
The station was crowded with participants headed for the ten-day camp at the Dhammagiri Vipassana Research Institute. Anjali walked out, avoiding the drivers who shouted “Dhammagiri”, to invite people to shared rickshaws. She hired a separate rickshaw, not wanting to be crammed in with strangers. The ashram was a short drive away, at the end of a narrow road that wound around beautiful bungalows.
Men and women had separate areas in the administrative office. Crowds gathered at the reception, with intimation cards, to collect their documents. Participants queued up at the counter and held out confirmation forms for verification to a frail volunteer. It was a long wait. The young woman fixed a sticker on Anjali’s form, and handed her an identity card.
Anjali joined the next queue. She filled in the form, placing it against the wall for support, while waiting for her turn. The details were simple: name, age, any illness….
When it came to the column on marital status, she paused, before writing ‘married’. Under the column on mental state, she wrote ‘stable’. An unstable mind would not be able to write that, she smiled at the thought.
On submitting the completed forms, each participant was handed an identity card inside a folder with the name and room number denoting the type of accommodation allotted. She looked at her card: H-34.
Anjali collected her blanket and bed sheets from the counter, deposited the money for laundry service, and stepped out of the queue.