Someone picked up the phone. My gaze travelled from his hand to his face contorted with rage. His grip was tight on the phone when he placed it back on the table.
“Is he still following you?” His tone was tight with overpowering rage bubbling underneath. My gaze fell back on the table, the phone felt like a live bomb. I just wanted someone to delete the messages before I could pick it up, but I was definitely not going to ask that favour from Samar.
He pulled out a chair, sat down next to me, and leaned towards me. His gaze subdued with panic, rage, and concern focused on me and he asked, putting a full stop after every word, “I. Asked. You. Is. He. Still. Following. You?”
Why? Why did he have that power over me? Why did I always feel so much stronger whenever he was close?
“Ask that question in an email and I will answer you.” I tried to keep my voice stable but failed miserably. All the conversation we had since Sakshi left was over email. The way he was avoiding me had hurt me beyond measures. He couldn’t decide to be caring in a moment and indifferent in another. His personality shifts made me insane.
“Tia, look.” He raised his hand, and then fisted them as if he was trying hard to control his emotions. “I am really busy these days and I really don’t have time for meetings so I am left with no option other than to communicate through email.”
“Then you don’t need to waste time on my trivial matters.”
“This. is. Not. trivial.” He picked up my phone from the table. “You don’t know what people are capable of doing. Hell. Why do you have to be so innocent?” He raised his hand in the air. “How are you going to survive?” His tone laced with worry just irked me, because the next moment he might turn into a stranger and I didn’t want to mess up my life any more than it already was.
“Why should it bother you whether I survive or not?”
“Because I…” He punched the table, got up and turned around. I got up with him and touched his elbow. “Because you?” My voice had lost its edge. It was pleadingly soft, and I hated myself for that.
His back was still to me, but I saw his body tensing. Was he worried about my rejection? I wanted to give him that confidence, so I walked to his front.
“Because you? What Samar?” I had called him Samar for the first time since we met. It was a hint and he was no fool not to read it.
Something changed on his face, the intense emotion in his eyes acted like two strong hands pulling me towards him, but before I lost my mind, the longing in his eyes faded into something else entirely. It was more than the fear of rejection and it was certainly more than the memory of a past heartbreak. It was something deeper. Denser. It was dread. The kind of dread that consumed me when I thought of my stalker getting hold of me.
But he couldn’t fear a stalker.
So, who the hell was he scared of?
24. Samar
It was mean. Leaving the conversation and Tia in a state of confusion was mean, but what option did I have?
Pacing in my room, I muted my phone when it rang. A few seconds later my intercom buzzed.
“Hello,” I growled into the receiver.
“Mr. Taneja is on the line, he said he was trying to call on your mobile, but you didn’t pick up so…”
“Tell him I am not in office.”
There was a momentary silence, I never missed any important calls.
“But sir he says it’s urgent...”
“To hell with his urgency, tell him to wait or go to hell.” I slammed the phone down, slumped on my chair and closed my eyes.
Tia’s face floated in front of my eyes.
She reminded me of the forbidden feeling I promised myself never to embrace. She was unaware that she breathed life into the dead parts of my soul.
And she breathed life into the memories I buried long back.
Because I could never think about love without thinking of Simran;
Without thinking of what we did to each other.
25. Tia
Mom, Dad and Avinash were mad at me and I couldn’t blame them. They pressed on the point that the day the stalker called me for the first time I should have informed them. And yes, they were right.
Now, we were sitting at the police station and I was feeling like a fool because I didn’t even save the number before deleting the messages and his number from the call list. I was scared I might hit the call button by mistake, so I had deleted all my call history in fear and rage.
“Anyone you doubt Tia?” the lady constable asked me.
I thought for a while, then shook my head. “I believe it’s some stranger.”
“Tia, it’s very unfortunate, but the truth is that most secret admirers and stalkers turn out to be people you know. Though we will find his number by recovering your deleted call log, don’t delete any further messages by him, they will help us strengthen our case when the need arises.” She paused before saying the next words, “Tia, stay alert with people you know, you don’t know who might be wearing the mask of a well-wisher.”
With heavy steps we returned home, and I tried to busy myself by watching TV, but at the back of my mind the constable’s voice was hammering me…
You don’t know who might be wearing the mask of a well-wisher…
26. Stalker
My little doll. In this photo your hairs were still wet after the bath. You didn’t even realise how many faces turned back to look at your beauty, you didn’t know how I wanted to snatch out the eyes of them all. You were so oblivious to your surroundings sweetheart. You know what I loved the most about your eyes? They were free of any pride. Your smile was so innocent yet so alluring. You had no idea how my finger burned just at the mere touch of your photo, your eyes, your cheeks, your lips…
Wait…I needed to recoup; your lips were so delicious.
Sometimes I wondered how your delicate face would feel on my manly chest… How it would feel to touch your soft lustrous hairs.
Don’t blame me for loving you…I could read the little signs you sent my way. But the problem was that you smiled for everyone.
You cared for everyone.
You should have cared only for me.
You would care only for me.
One day. You would care only for me my little doll.
You made a police complaint? Bad… You wanted to keep me away? Horrible… did you know how much effort it took to calm down my boiling blood. But what could the police do when they didn’t even know who I was? They couldn’t trace me from the number. I had seen enough crime movies to know how they track the culprits. The phone number? That lead would take them to a dead end like the dead man who’s mobile I stole, and even the place from where I sent the messages would mislead them.
But I knew you needed a break; I needed to lie low for a while. You became more alert, but I wasn’t yet ready to face you…so, I had to wait before you would become carefree again, before I….
Oof, you were walking towards me. No, not me, your destination behind me, but one day, not far away, I would be your destination. Now, you would look down, you did it after every few steps, you didn’t want to crush any insects beneath your feet. See, I knew you so well.
As your steps neared, my heart started to beat faster. Harder. I pushed your photo in my pocket.
You were smiling at me, but I had to look down, because you might have seen what my eyes held.
Love.
And lust.
27. Tia
Kiara’s home was across the road and I often saw her working on her computer through her window. I wished she wasn’t that aloof, and I thought like me, she also needed a friend.
One day, I saw her in the supermarket. She was wearing a peach top and a knee length black skirt. Her high heels added a few more inches to her tall stature. I couldn’t help but notice that her trolley was full of Maggie and other instant food items. How much was she exercising to burn her carbs and keep her hourglass figure after eating all that junk? The shiver in her voice and the expression of
her eyes when she used the word family was still fresh in my mind. I had to literally change my direction to stop talking to her and I busied myself with the shopping list mom gave me.
At the counter, I stood just behind her, either she didn’t see me or just ignored me.
When her turn came, she nervously rummaged her purse and mumbled, “Damn.” She glanced at her watch and again mumbled, “Damn.”
“1025 rupees madam,” the women at the counter repeated. It didn’t take me much time to realise she forgot to carry money. Her words, “I don’t need help” rang in my mind, but I couldn’t stop myself. “Kiara.” I tapped her shoulder.
“Oh, Tia,” she said nervously looking at me once, then again rummaging in her purse. “I just paid the cab driver. I guess I dropped my small wallet, in which I kept my money.”
“If you don’t mind, I can pay right now. You can pay me back later.”
She looked at her watch and hesitantly nodded. I paid for her and she offered a weak, “Thanks”. Before I paid for my groceries she had left. When I pulled my car from the parking, I saw her juggling with the heavy bags of instant food.
“If you want, I can give you a lift.” I opened my car window when I stopped by her. She looked at me confused. “Hey, I mean only if you want. I don’t want to intrude.” I added quickly.
She hesitantly nodded and got into the car.
I should have said something, but I didn’t know what. I didn’t know what might upset her, so I decided to stay quiet. I was glad she broke the silence.
“Sorry.”
“Sorry? For what?” I looked at her.
“I have been rude to you.”
“Oh, forget it.” I waved off her apology. “We’re good.”
“Is it really so easy for you to forgive?” she asked.
“It depends. I generally don’t keep grudge for small things.”
“And what might be a big thing for you?”
That was a deep question, had I asked her the same question she might have been offended, but I wasn’t.
“A few days back a friend at office leaked some confidential info and tried to redirect the blame to me. I thought that was a big thing, I didn’t reply to her sorry messages, but now I think I don’t have that much of a grudge towards her.”
“How can you bring yourself to trust her again?”
“I think she has realised her mistake.”
“Huh, she was trying to loop you in a conspiracy, and you think she is harmless?”
“I mean, now we aren’t working at the same company, how can she harm me?” I shrugged my shoulders.
“People can be harmful in ways you can’t even imagine.” There was a bitterness in her voice. Was that why she avoided people? Was that why she avoided me, thinking I might harm her?
“Why are you so scared of people being harmful?”
“Because they are.” She paused. “Mostly they are.”
I didn’t know her story is, but I could say it wasn’t a happy one. Wasn’t it a scary place to be; amid doubts and distrust? But then I thought about my stalker. After the police complaint, I didn’t’ hear from him, he might have followed me to the police station and maybe he was scared and backed off. But I still wasn’t able to shake off the words of the lady constable. “You don’t know who might be wearing the mask of a well-wisher”
Maybe Kiara was right. Maybe I needed to know her story to understand people a little better.
We soon reached home and she got down after thanking me. I went into the house and even before I changed my clothes the doorbell rang. I was surprised to see Kiara at the door.
“Your money.”
“Oh, ok.” I took the money, disappointed that she wasn’t here for a little chit chat.
“Who’s at door?” Mom shouted from the Kitchen.
“Kiara!” I shouted back.
Mom walked to the door wiping her hands-on napkin.
“Hey Kiara. Please come in.”
“Actually, I am getting late and I…I have to prepare dinner…so…”
“Maggie,” The word was out of my mouth before I knew, and she rolled her eyes.
“Sorry.” I pressed my mouth with my palms.
“Why don’t you have dinner with us tonight?” Mom asked.
“No, not today, actually I also have to get my car repaired, it’s tyre is punctured. I will join you some other day.”
“The tyre puncture shop is just around the corner. I will show you later, but now, you come in. Mom has made paneer kofta and no one can deny her paneer kofta.” I pulled her by hand, totally forgetting that I had decided to maintain distance with her.
I had to literally apply force to pull her in. I mean, she was that hesitant, but I shamelessly pulled her to the dining table. She sat in such slow motion that I was sure she was still thinking of some excuse. While mom set the table for us, she shifted in her seat, clearly feeling uncomfortable, as if it had been a while since she had been around people.
The way she sat with her back straight, poised and elegant, she looked like a model.
A lonely model.
“Hey, won’t you introduce me to your beautiful friend.” Avinash walked towards us, dribbling his basketball, trying to act cool, but actually looking like a desperate weirdo.
I warned him with my eyes to shoo him away, but he raised his eyebrow, refusing to take the hint.
“Kiddo, this is Kiara.” I intentionally used the word kiddo, to remind Avinash he was almost a decade younger than Kiara. Knowing Kiara, I mean however little, I was worried she might just get up and walk away. Thankfully she was still seated. I hesitated before using the next word, “my friend,” and looked at her, something flickered in her eyes but quickly passed away.
“And this little kid is Avinash, my brother.” I teased Avinash.
“Hello Kiddo.” Kiara totally took me by surprise, and I rolled my eyes.
“Whatever.” Avinash said disappointedly, stopped dribbling and held the ball.
“Hey Avinash, where are you going? I’m setting the table.” Mom said arranging the plates.
“I don’t want to sit with oldies, I will eat later.” he taunted and walked upstairs.
Kiara’s laugh surprised me, it was a straight from the heart laugh, but then she suddenly stopped as if laughing was an offense, as if it reminded her of something, maybe happier times. God, was I imagining things?
Mom served us food and asked Kiara, “So, Kiara, who are in your family?”
Shit. I forgot to tell mom about our conversation the other day, and I didn’t have time to warn her to not ask her personal questions. Kiara hated questions.
“I am staying alone.” She said, not exactly answering her question.
“Mom, I want one more chapatti.” I lied trying to divert her mind.
“Ok,” she said and went inside.
“Excuse me. I will get the pickle.” I said and followed mom inside the Kitchen.
“Mom, please don’t ask her any personal questions. I will explain in detail later.” I picked up pickle bottle from the rack and walked out.
Kiara was watching something intently with a longing in her eyes. I followed her gaze that rested on our family photo. The photo was taken just a month back. It was mom’s birthday and we had planned a surprise for her. We decorated the living room with lots of balloons and flowers, she and dad sat on the sofa, dad’s hand curled around her shoulder. I and Avinash were sitting on floor and he was trying to snatch away my favourite teddy when the timer checked off and the photo was clicked.
Mom came with the hot puffed chapati; She also noticed Kiara’s gaze on the photo.
“Kiara, don’t you think these people are evil, who got this photo framed. Look at me, I am in my night gown. They all are dressed so well.” She complained light-heartedly.
“It’s the best photo I have ever seen.” Kiara’s voice caught and she pushed the bite in her mouth to push away the embarrassment.
There was a momentary silence.
I was the careless talker generally, but with Kiara around, I was feeling a little more self-conscious. God knows what her past held, what memories were haunting her that always kept her on the edge. Her eyes were always on the verge of breaking down into tears, as if she was holding too much, as if she hadn’t yet cried for whatever was hurting her.
“What’s your favourite food Kiara?” I chose a safe topic when the silence became too uncomfortable.
“I like Italian.” She said. I was terrified by the way she always maintained her posture. I tried to sit totally straight like her. Her perfectly manicured hands and the way her long fingers worked around her food, it was evident she belonged to high class society. Was she wearing false lashes or were they naturally so long and thick? And her hazel eyes were breathtakingly beautiful. She would have passed for the cover image of Filmfare. How did she end up so lonely?
“I love panipuri, the perfect desi that I am.” I said, finally releasing my back that had already started to ache.
“And lasagne, and pizza, and pavbhavji, and….” mom laughed and left her sentence incomplete when the doorbell rang. Ritesh was standing at the door, poor boy, he was so drenched in sweat.
“Just came to give the keys.” He gave the keys to mom. Generally, he washed the cars in the morning, but since he needed a leave the other day, he washed the other car tonight. The hardworking fellow that he was, he always made up for every leave.
“Ritesh.” I called out. “How are your studies going?”
He nodded sheepishly, “Good madam.”
“Stop calling me madam, it makes me feel ancient. You can call me didi if you wish, but not madam. Got it? If you fail in any subject this time, I am going to punish you and you will have to wash my car for free for whole month.” I teased him.
Beyond Lies Page 7