‘When Arunodaye informed you about the nude scene with Reva, did you plan to fuck?’
‘No! It just happened.’
‘And she didn’t stop you.’
‘She didn’t stop me,’ Kaash echoed back.
‘You said you don’t feel guilty about it at all. But I’m sure Reva at least would.’
‘Even if I feel guilty about it then guilt would be a small price for what Reva and I have discovered for each other.’
‘It’s a problem, right, when in a relationship one wants to derive sex through love and love through sex?’
‘At least for me. I believe they are two different things which seem same to begin with. Thus they shouldn’t be searched for in the garb of the other. Sex, I feel, eventually destroys the mysteries that love excites within one. It inhibits a couple from connecting beyond the traditional realm of a relationship.’
And hence, many don’t experience the incomparable, incomprehensible, everyday kind of absolute bliss that we as a couple enjoy.’
‘I think I know what you are talking about,’ said Aravali clasping his hands by her side. Bringing them close to her lips, she planted a soft kiss on them. After the first night, Aravali could count the number of days they had made love. Very few. Something which brought them together didn’t seem important enough since.
‘Now tell me, how do you know I love Nishani?’
‘I read your Dear Nish letters the first night.’
For a moment Kaash kept looking at her face which had a soft glow—of the kind that can steal someone’s heart forever.
‘Were you jealous reading them?’
‘I was so excited, praying to God to give me one such lover, that I forgot to be jealous,’ she smiled. Kaash remained still.
‘And I have a feeling she still doesn’t know,’ she said next.
Kaash was quiet.
‘What if,’ he seemed a tad amused, ‘she accepts and I have to leave you?’
‘Well, you have Reva as your sexual drain. Keep me as your spiritual drain and I’ll be happy.’
Kaash couldn’t help but laugh. He sat up.
‘I think she is in love with Shahraan.’
‘What makes you say so?’ Aravali sounded surprised.
‘A woman’s passion is always more intense than a man’s obsession.’
It was eleven when Nishani sat up, stretching, when glimpses of the dream flashed in front of her: Shahraan was begging her to give him what she had taken, but she too was her father’s daughter. She only smiled at him and said, ‘Only if you return what you took from me.’ With time, Nishani had come to realize killing Shahraan figuratively by turning him into an emotional orphan like he did to her would be the best. Nobody-to-go-to is the worst suffering in life. Blocking a yawn, Nishani smiled. It seemed a beautiful morning.
Reva was immersed to her neck in a spacious bathtub, with a bluetooth piece clipped on her right ear. She was talking to Neev who, after a strenuous gym session, was driving back to his place. Since he was in a rush, he’d picked up Nishani’s car keys instead of his Tavera, and he was driving her newly-purchased Innova. It wasn’t for the first time the car swap had happened.
‘Wouldn’t it be better if we meet today?’
‘I think I’m under surveillance.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘Shahraan is keeping an eye on me. He searched my bag as well. I don’t know what to do, Neev.’
‘You chose it for yourself.’
There was a pause. ‘Did Kaash tell you anything?’
‘I don’t know him well. He knows Nishani. Why didn’t you tell me before?’
‘That’s the point. It was never important for me to even share it with you.’
‘But it was important enough for you to carry on with it.’
Reva sighed and relaxed her head on the tile behind.
By the time Nishani finished her breakfast, she was already done flipping through five national dailies. She opened the last one and perused it carefully, but still didn’t find it anywhere: Shahraan slapping Reva on set. Frustration and disgust by now were playing hopscotch on her face. What is the problem with the media? Why can’t they take their job seriously? She took her mobile phone and dialled all important print media journalists. Everyone had the same thing to tell her that it wasn’t interesting enough. Except Gayatri of The Bharat. She said, ‘We have been told it’s not worth it.’ The words made her conclude they had been bought.
She held her head tight and tried to analyze things. This particular news was her divine intervention, her shortest path to attain what she had been craving for since a child—drilling an emotional hole in Shahraan Ali Bakshi’s life. A hole big enough to make him see the wrong he did to her, but small enough to rectify anything anymore. Had it appeared in the newspapers, it would have heightened the tension between Reva and Shahraan. Vikrant told her it was during the shooting that Reva was slapped. That means there would be the rushes. On an impulse, she called up Vikrant next.
‘Hi Vikrant, was wondering if the shoot was complete yesterday?’ She needed a trigger point for a conversation.
‘Are you kidding? It was stalled midway. We lost eleven lakhs.’
‘Actually, I didn’t see it in the papers this morning, so I was like did it really happen?’ She indeed sounded casual.
‘They have been bribed more than adequately. Some people had recorded the incident in their mobile phones, but they were deleted, and that particular film reel destroyed personally by Krishna. Don’t know if the film will even be completed or not.’
‘Don’t worry. We are all professionals.’
Nishani sat still after cutting the line, thinking of all the different possibilities. The mobile phones were searched, but there remained the still photographer, Arijit Banerjee. She knew he was a veteran in the world of film and fashion photography. Was his camera searched too? Would he allow that to happen knowing how those sensational photographs could fetch him a fortune? She had both Arijit’s personal as well as office number. She dialled the latter.
‘Sir is busy.’ It was one of Arijit’s assistants talking.
‘Who are you?’
‘I am Bejoy; his assistant.’
Nishani had seen the guy on the set a few times.
‘Perhaps you can help me. I’m calling from a newspaper agency and wanted to know if Arijit has the Shahraan slapping Reva pictures.’
‘Yes, Sir has them, but those aren’t for sale. Sorry.’
Nishani looked at her reflection on the dining table glass top and pouted her lips to gift herself a sultry ‘muah’.
‘But you told me you loved Shahraan,’ Neev was finding it difficult to talk and manoeuvre the car amid the traffic.
‘I love him alright.’
‘Then why did you have to do what you did?’
‘At least you don’t judge me on that. Is it that important? Can’t I do something without being judged ever?’
‘I am not judging you. I am saying when everything was going fine, what was the need to screw it all up. And look at the time and place you chose.’
‘Everyone’s life is screwed some way or the other. Do you think people choose it that way? It just happens, Neev. It just happened! That’s what I’ve been trying to tell Shahraan. And I am sorry about it too. Since that incident, I feel so tired all the time. My achievements weigh on me. They limit me. They dictate me a certain set of actions outside which the real me lives. Where are those days, Neev, when all we had to do was struggle to make a mark? We were so ourselves!’
‘Both of us have crossed it, Reva. We are the lucky ones. And now that we have crossed that hurdle, we have to struggle for being understood the way we are and not the way the world is.’
‘There was a time when I thought when one has power, name, fame—nothing can touch the person, but it’s all a sham.’
‘To be honest, I didn’t want to call you back. I know what all you have done for me, but remember the n
ight we last met near the highway dhaba and you told me you’d seriously fallen for Shahraan and wanted me to forget you?’
Reva’s silence acknowledged the fact.
‘I was livid that night. I swore not to ever talk to you again.’
‘Then why did you call today?’
‘Nishani is the reason.’
There was pause from Reva’s side. ‘How is it going with her?’
‘Steady. The good thing is she never tries to own or manipulate me. She lets me be the way I am. I feel free with her.’
‘I used to stifle you, didn’t I Neev?’
‘I didn’t mean that.’
‘I am sorry, Neev.’
‘Stop it. You’ll always be what you were to me. Nobody can take that place.’
‘Oh, Neev. Thanks for saying that. I was feeling so unwanted since the last few days. Thanks a lot.’ Her voice was clogged.
‘It’s okay. By the way, did you have a talk with your husband?’ He intentionally mentioned the word ‘husband’, Reva mused, perhaps to underline the fact that she was now married and Neev was another man. Strangely, it didn’t make her feel uncomfortable.
‘He is not ready to listen to me. You tell me what should I do?’
‘Hmmm. Do you miss me, Reva?’
There was a prolonged silence. She wanted to speak her heart but chose not to.
‘Hi, I am Manoj Shreshta calling from Indian Times. I want to talk to Arijit Banerjee.’
‘Sir is busy. I handle all his business. Myself, Bijoy. What is it about?’
‘I wanted to buy some photographs from you for our newspaper.’
‘Which photographs?’
‘Shahraan and Reva. The slap ones.’
Not again! Bijoy thought. Since morning he had had several calls from reporters for the same thing. ‘Sir will never sell those.’
‘I want to buy it from you. Fifty thousand cash.’
There was silence.
‘You give me the copies of the photographs in a pen drive. That’s all. No wounds, no worries.’
Half a minute passed and Bijoy didn’t speak a word. He knew the man was waiting and the more time he took to answer, more was the chance of him succumbing.
‘Seventy five.’
‘Okay, done. Meet me in an hour by the city mall bus stop in Andheri.’ The line went dead.
Nishani was ecstatic. The guy couldn’t guess it was a female masked as a male. It had taken her a total of two hours to get hold of a man who gave her an already working prepaid sim card belonging to someone with fake papers. Next, she downloaded the trial version of a popular voice morphing software on her mobile. At first, she planned to execute the transaction through the internet, but that would have been traceable. This one: Nishani Rai as Manoj Shreshtha; no one on earth would be able to crack that.
Searching for her keys, she realized Neev had actually taken hers while he left his at her place. A cab or autorickshaw wouldn’t do. She took Neev’s maroon Tavera instead and drove to the bank first and then to the Oshiwara signal.
As an anxious Bijoy stood by the city mall bus stop looking at every man suspiciously, a street kid came to him and offered him a packet. Bijoy looked around nervously and took the packet. He could almost feel the crispy notes. A quick check told him there were seven bundles of one thousand rupees and a tiny one of five hundred notes. He wasted no time in handing over the pen drive to the kid. Crossing the road, Bijoy turned to see if he could track the kid. He did. She was handing over the pen drive to someone inside a maroon Tavera. He waited. As the car turned and drove away, all he could see was big sticker of a middle finger on the back.
When Nishani stopped by the next traffic signal, she quickly inserted the pen drive in her laptop and checked out the pictures. It was a series of stop motion photographs which, if seen non stop, generated a motion feel. If placed in order, the series would play itself almost like a video.
‘I do miss you, Neev. But before coming to Shahraan, I never knew a part of me would also want to be enslaved by him forever.’
‘Earlier, I was only angry because you left me when I needed you the most. But when I got this role, I was grateful you still cared.’
‘Don’t say that. You are talented. I only took care of the opportunity.’
‘The day you told me you were getting married to Shahraan was the day I felt I lost you forever. I mean, we have had our share of infidelity, lies, fights, and all that, but every time we did come back to the other. And if you think of it, we never even discussed marriage. We could have stayed away since we weren’t morally or legally bound in anyway. But we did come back perhaps because we were bonded by some law of nature that whatever shit we are involved in, we two shall turn to the other.’
‘True. That’s why I called you after feeling threatened by Shahraan.’
‘Exactly. Whatever has happened, has happened Reva. We had been together during the shitty struggling days, so why not now? I agree to what you’d told me about us destroying ourselves more than anybody, but things are different now. You have Shahraan, I have Nishani. This togetherness which I am asking you to give a chance now won’t be the same togetherness we experienced before.’
‘I don’t know. When I’d accepted Shahraan’s proposal, he was this man for whom I had cold sighs all my life. And when he proposed, I accepted. I think any normal girl would do what I did. Initially, it was only the thrill of being Mrs Shahraan Ali Bakshi, but later he won my heart, because a man like him is rare, Neev. I am not comparing. I’m only saying he made me realize two people can be loved at the same time and perhaps to the same extent, but one can’t jumble their coordinates up. Like I couldn’t love him the way I loved you. Our relationship dynamics were different and hence the realizations too were distinct.’
As she spoke, Neev had slowed down the car and said, ‘I guess you are right. Sometimes when we get into any relationship, and I mean any, I think there’s some emotional debt meter that starts running somewhere within us, and a time comes when we nullify all the naked truth about that relationship against the reading on the debt meter. Like I hated you till yesterday, but now I want to get back to you because I know you have done good things for me.’
‘Wow. Where was this Neev when I was with him?’
‘It took Reva’s rejection and Nishani’s acceptance for this Neev to shape up.’
He glanced at his phone to realize Nishani’s call was coming on call waiting.
‘Hey Reva, I’ll just call you back.’ Neev switched to Nishani’s call.
‘What’s up?’
‘It’s a fucking dinosaur out there!’
‘What?’
‘Someone has leaked the Shahraan-slapping-Reva-on-set video on the internet and within three hours, it has got two lakh ten thousand views. And, still counting.’
Neev took his time but still couldn’t surmise: was it a good or a bad news?
If media was a mixer grinder, then the slap issue was fresh coriander leaves. Though Krishna managed to block the video from most sites, the damage had already been done by then.
The media, whose hunger had been bribed previously on the incident, had a ball when they saw the video had gone viral on a public domain. Hours after the video hit the internet, it was flashing on all the leading news channels. The same happened with the newspapers the next day.
All the money that was given to the agencies to suppress the news was suddenly not enough. And they anyway were not paid to ignore the leak. From early morning to midnight, the issue was regularly discussed, dissected, analyzed, and predictions of the future between Shahraan and Reva were made. Forgotten people from the industry were invited to the news channel studios to discuss how male dominated the Hindi film industry was. The worse happened when an NGO of women rights protection registered a case against Shahraan for alleged domestic violence. It infuriated as well as wounded him so much that he asked Krishna not to update him on anything for some time. On the other hand, Reva wrongly thought it was
he who had intentionally leaked the video to emotionally assault her further; all of it for letting Kaash fuck her. Weirdly, nobody cared about Kaash’s take on it.
The producers had employed a private security agency to guard the studio where the day’s shoot was scheduled to take place. Everyone who entered the set had to deposit their mobile phones and any other objectionable items to the security personnel. Only the still photographer Arijit and his assistant Bijoy were officially allowed to click pictures.
‘No. No. No.’ The numero uno choreographer and a prominent gay activist, Fanny Da Cunha, bellowed on the loudspeaker. He shot a helpless look at ATM who was sitting in a corner and sucking on a straw that was siphoning freshly made lemonade into him. Going by whatever ATM had read in the newspapers and witnessed between Shahraan and Reva in the last few days, he had acquired diarrhoea. He’d forgotten about completing the film the way he wanted to, with the producers and him ready to give a hefty offering to Vaishno Devi if the Goddess would allow them to at least finish the film on time. The only good thing going his way was that today he wasn’t supposed to direct the two. It was the choreographer’s duty.
‘There’s no chemistry between the two, what the hell should I shoot? And then they say Fanny has lost his fucking special touch!’ Fanny said softly to ATM who pretended to care about the ongoing proceedings.
‘Keep trying,’ he suggested to Fanny and laughed like a masochist in his mind.
Amid the hullaballoo of the extras, Shahraan hissed at Reva, ‘Why aren’t you getting it right?’
‘You are not getting it right, Shahraan.’
For a moment he didn’t understand what.
‘Grow up and focus on the work. Home is where we discuss the personal things.’ They were standing beside each other taking a breather and waiting for Fanny’s further instructions.
‘Home is where we remain quiet these days.’
‘So you have been saving all your spite for this day? I slapped you on set, so you want to embarrass me on set?’
‘I am not surprised you’ve interpreted it that way instead of understanding me. And thanks for leaking the video.’
How About a Sin Tonight? Page 21