Forbidden Desires

by Banerjee, Madhuri

Kaajal felt liberated. She had never wanted to be like her sister. She had never felt pressured to get married or have children. She was focused on her career and she liked spending her money on herself. She saved for her future and she spent on things that were important to her. She was driven at work and ambitious with her life. She enjoyed Kaushik egging her on to do better and her ideas were what made Kaushik senior partner at their firm.

  It was only recently that they had decided they would start their own firm. She suddenly had an idea. She gave him a tie and asked, ‘This client is based in London, isn’t he?’

  Kaushik nodded.

  ‘Then why isn’t he getting a London firm?’

  ‘They’re dealing with Indians. They need an Indian partner. Why are you asking stupid questions? You know this. We’ve been meeting them for a month now.’

  ‘What if we set up an office in London. Get more clients like them. Run an Indian office with Indian lawyers. Have a broader vision.’ Kaajal was coming up with a very ambitious plan for both of them.

  This was what Kaushik loved about her. She pushed him to do better and think harder. She was smarter than him and far more ambitious. He loved that about her. He had initially thought that their romance wouldn’t last more than a few months. But it had now been four years.

  How many times had she told her friends, ‘I prefer living with someone to getting married. I love him. I understand him. And if we ever break up, there will be no legal mess. Marriage means that families get involved. And divorces means courts do. It’s never about the two people involved. Commitment comes by choosing the person every day. Not by a legal contract. Love binds us. Lust binds us. And the fact that we make each other better means we’re together today. Kal kya hoga, kisne dekha hai?’

  Her mother had agreed in the beginning because she wanted her daughter to test the waters before getting married but even when she eventually asked Kaajal again about a wedding she stood her ground. ‘Pyaar shaadi se pakki nahin hoti hai, Ma,’ Kaajal had said. ‘Pyaar dar se pakki hoti hai. If he’s scared I’ll leave him, he will not do anything to make me go. If I tie him to me, he will definitely run away.’

  Kulwinder had ultimately given in. She had seen how well her children were doing with their own choices.

  Kaajal loved the fact that Kaushik still lusted after her. What Naina had not been able to achieve, Kaajal had. When people say ‘men don’t change’? They’re wrong. Men did change for the correct woman. They were more attentive, caring and understanding if you knew how to play the game right. And Kaajal was a master at the game. She hadn’t been with anyone since she met Kaushik. But she didn’t rule out the possibility of anything in her life.

  The world was her oyster. She was ready to rule it.

  ‘Are you coming, Kaushik? I’m driving!’ She grabbed the car keys from the corner-table in their lovely apartment and raced ahead of him.

  Kaajal had found bliss.

  42

  Kavita was in her scrubs while Sara was lying in the operation theatre with beads of perspiration encircling her face.

  ‘Come on Sara, push!’ Kavita said, as the baby’s head crowned.

  ‘I can’t,’ Sara groaned. She was tired. It had been eighteen hours and she was about to murder someone. Kavita coaxed, ‘I promise, one more push and I’ll do night duty for the entire month.’

  Sara almost laughed but nodded. Kavita looked at her partner and marveled at how far they had come. Life had completely changed in the last three years.

  Kavita had resigned from AIIMS and settled in Mumbai with Vansh. They had taken a lovely two-bedroom place in Khar West somewhere close to Sara’s clinic. Kavita had joined Sara at work and the clinic had just taken off. With two world-class gynaecologists at the helm of great new beginnings, Kavita and Sara became popular in no time. Soon they had clients from all over the world and eventually started another branch in Andheri West.

  Kavita rarely missed her life in Delhi. She adapted to Mumbai like a fish to water. Vansh found it difficult at first, as he missed his old friends, naturally. But he soon found his ground and spread his wings, soon excelling in cricket and finding friends and peers who respected and liked him. He would later tell his Mom that he was happy in Mumbai. He still missed his maasi and grandmother but they visited often and Kavita made sure that they went back to Delhi every opportunity they got until she started sending him alone as well. Vansh also visited his father during his holidays.

  When Kavita first introduced Sara to Vansh and her mother, she had used the word ‘friend’. And soon, Sara became a fixture in their lives. Soon enough Sara expressed her desire to have a child. And Kavita agreed Vansh should have a sibling, finally. But Kavita refused to go through labour again and so Sara said she would get IVF treatment done. Vansh was ecstatic with the news that he would be a big brother. Kavita hadn’t figured out how she would manage two clinics at the same time. Sara had insisted that she would take the baby to the clinic and manage. She would not give up on her dream and work as a doctor. Kavita had simply told her to take it easy for a few months while she did all the heavy lifting.

  ‘Okay, here comes the baby,’ Kavita said as Sara gave one last push. Kavita took their baby in her arms and both mothers burst into tears. ‘She’s beautiful!’ Sara exclaimed.

  Kavita cleaned up the baby and brought her to Sara’s breast so she could feed on her mother’s colostrum. She then took the baby away again to show Vansh and her mother, as well as Sara’s parents, who were all eagerly waiting outside the labour room.

  ‘Mama, is that Laila?’ Vansh asked excitedly as he saw the baby.

  ‘Yes, baby. Laila Imam Kaur. Your baby sister.’

  Kulwinder gave Kavita a tight hug. ‘I’m so proud of you. I’ve always wanted a granddaughter. I will be eternally thankful to Sara.’

  As Sara recuperated, in the evening Kulwinder gave her, as per custom, a gold set of earrings and a necklace. ‘For you, beti. For the immense gift you’ve given all of us.’ Sara was touched. Maybe Kavita and she would never get married but to be accepted by Kavita’s mother was a blessing. She knew relationships weren’t defined by society. They’re defined by how you feel for a person. Whether she was married or not, Sara knew she had a wonderful mother-in-law.

  ‘Hi, Sara Aunty,’ Vansh asked quietly as he came into the room to see her.

  ‘Come, baby,’ Sara said. ‘Did you see your sister?’

  Vansh nodded as Kavita followed him with Laila close to Sara.

  ‘She’s the most beautiful girl in the world,’ Vansh said.

  Sara smiled. She had never thought she would have a family. She felt fortunate that Kavita and her family had accepted her. She could finally claim to be a ‘housewife’.

  Kavita smiled, looking around the room. Maybe this was the way it was supposed to be. Maybe some relationships aren’t meant to be conventional. A mother, a father, and two children don’t always make up the ‘perfect family’. Maybe relationships needed to redefine themselves and society needed to be more accepting of the new definitions of the old concept of a family.

  Maybe housewives weren’t always women who did nothing with their lives. They were the ones who could accept any role given to them. And they needed to be proud of that.

  43

  ‘Humara neta kaisa ho? Harshvardhan jaisa ho!’

  The crowd went crazy as Harshvardhan came on the podium to make his inaugural speech. He was at Rashtrapati Bhavan where millions had gathered to hear their Prime Minister speak.

  After a tumultuous three years, Harshvardhan had risen to the top to rightfully claim his place as India’s 15th Prime Minister. It had taken some time and he had had to fight a grueling election but he had always been focused and driven to succeed. He took a deep breath before he climbed the stage. For a moment the woman he loved flashed in his mind as she had always done before any important event. Even though they had not stayed in touch, she had been his guiding light, always in his thoughts, goading him, chiding him, comfortin
g him when he needed her. She was and would always be his love. How he missed her today.

  Harshvardhan smiled and began, ‘I am a firm believer in God. I am a firm believer in this nation. I am a firm believer in empowering women and that will be my first order as Prime Minister. I will make sure that each and every woman in this country will have freedom, independence and financial security. That each housewife will have power and that there will be safety and security for every woman. So help me, God.’

  The crowd erupted with delight and clapped as chants started. He paused before continuing his speech.

  ‘Can you make it louder?’ Ayesha asked Varun as they sat at home in Lucknow watching the speech.

  Varun turned up the volume. ‘Where are the children?’

  Ayesha turned to take her daughter in her arms. ‘Mia was right behind me, holding on to my sari. You naughty little girl.’ There was a huge age difference between her two children but when she had told Adi that she was having a child, he had been ecstatic. It was Adi and not Varun who had helped Ayesha in the early days of Mia’s birth. He had helped with the nappies and put her to sleep while Varun had gone to play golf and supposedly ‘network’ to get better promotions. But he never had. Now their tenure in Lucknow was ending and it was almost time to head back to Delhi. The packing would start again. But this time Ayesha was looking forward to it. She had a reason to go back.

  Adi came into the room and asked his mother, ‘Mama, can I go to play at Dhruv’s house?’ He picked up his baby sister in his arms and said, ‘Cutie. I love you.’

  Mia laughed and pulled her elder brother’s hair. Ayesha scolded her children, ‘Mia, don’t pull Bhaiya’s hair! Adi, no you cannot go. It’s time for lunch. And everyone keep quiet. I’m watching this.’

  Harshvardhan continued, ‘In keeping every woman safe, we build a safe nation. In keeping every woman secure, we keep families secure. In strengthening every woman’s financial security, we build India as a financially secure country.’

  ‘I can’t believe we had gone to his house so many years ago,’ Varun said as he looked at the TV. Then he got up and said, ‘Chalo anyway, this is too boring. I’m off for golf. I’ll see you in the night.’ He called out to the kids, ‘Bye kids!’ He left without a hug, a kiss or even asking for approval from his wife, who was left watching the television alone and managing a house by herself, as she had been doing for so many years.

  Ayesha hardly cared. She was now beyond concern for her husband. After Mia was born her whole world had been to look after this child. She saw Adi take Mia to play in her room. Thankfully, her daughter looked like her. Otherwise she would have quite some explaining to do. It was after she had started bleeding that she had decided to keep the baby. Kavita had sent an ambulance that took Ayesha away from the paparazzi and securely in a stretcher to the hospital.

  She had asked Ayesha, ‘Now is the time to decide, Ayesha. Either I can remove it, or you can keep it.’

  Ayesha had closed her eyes and prayed. The only face she had seen was Harshvardhan’s and his words had rung in her ears. I’m with you, for you, always.

  Harshvardhan continued his speech as Ayesha stared into the TV screen scrutinizing him closely. He had greyed a little more and got a bit of a paunch. She wondered if he was eating correctly with the campaign stress taking over his health. He was smiling, but she knew there was something missing. How she had missed him every single day of her life.

  It was as if he had never left her. She had remembered him when she had Mia. She had named her baby after Mother Mary and Mia meant ‘my own’. She knew that was something he would have appreciated. She poured over the newspapers as she saw him grow from strength to strength in his party. She watched every news channel at night to hear him speak. She prayed for his success as she watched his daughter grow up. And she prayed to Mother Mary to forgive her for keeping this secret from her family and from the man she loved.

  Ayesha knew that some loves weren’t meant to happen in this lifetime. They were meant to show you who you could be. And Ayesha had only become stronger as a person with Harshvardhan in her life. Besides being a great mother, she had also started a safety and security group for women in Lucknow that personally went to look after women. They would meet government leaders and make sure that streets were well lit, that eve-teasers were punished, that women had the freedom to go where they wanted without feeling repressed and embarrassed by what they wore. Ayesha was in several press articles about the improvement in Lucknow and she always kept her face and her children out of the news. She knew she needed to follow in Harshvardhan’s footsteps of helping women but had to do so discreetly.

  It had been three years. They hadn’t exchanged a word. She had missed him. So many nights she had wondered how she could manage it all. Varun was no help. He often told her, ‘Yeh sab kya kar rahi ho? Mummy Papa ko bilkul pasand nahin hai. Don’t you have enough work on your hands with two kids?’

  Ayesha found strength from somewhere. No matter how tired she was, she would still manage a house, look after her children and be a counsellor for women who were harassed. She had delegated her household duties to Savitri, who looked after the two children, beautifully, like they were her own, leaving Ayesha the time to do other things.

  Once Ayesha’s parents had come for a Diwali party and had seen Varun gambling. Her father had mentioned to Ayesha that he was upset. For the first time in her life, Ayesha had not defended her husband. She realized that people needed to see each other without the shield of an opinion. Ayesha had been making excuses for Varun all her life. When her parents started seeing how much golf he played or how Ayesha was managing everything by herself, they were shocked. They began to be more supportive of her choices and helped her whenever she needed them to be around for the children.

  Ayesha had tears in her eyes as she saw the man she loved become the prime minister. Her sacrifice had been worth it. It had been terrible for him to shrug off the image that he was having an affair. But he had done so and protected her fiercely. That was true love.

  Harshvardhan came to the conclusion of his speech, ‘Believe in me. Believe in the nation. Believe in every woman around you.’

  Ayesha remembered that day at the hospital. She had whispered. ‘Yes, I want the baby. Please save her. Please save our baby.’

  I’m with you, for you, always. She heard it then. And she knew he said it for her now. ‘Be safe. Be happy. I’m with you, for you, always,’ Harshvardhan said as he looked into camera.

  Ayesha had tears rolling down her cheeks. Mia was going to turn three soon. It was time she spoke the truth. She had always been a simple housewife, hiding behind the facade of family and home. She had been the strength for her children. Now she needed to be the strength for the man she loved.

  She picked up her phone and sent a message to Harshvardhan: I’m here.

  He called her an hour later as she slept next to Mia. ‘Hello?’ He spoke with great trepidation, almost a whisper, ‘Ayesha? I’m so happy you sent me a message.’

  Ayesha smiled as she looked down at Mia, ‘Hello Harsh. Congratulations!’

  ‘Ayesha, my love…’

  ‘I’m so happy to hear your voice, Harsh.’

  ‘And I’m over the moon, Ayesha.’

  ‘I think it’s time we met.’

  EPILOGUE

  3 and a half year back. When it all began…

  Pinky could always spot a newcomer at these key chain parties. They were the ones who were dragged by their friends to ‘try something new’. They were also the ones who didn’t want to mingle too much and stuck to the kitchen, eating something so as not to have the need to make even polite conversation.

  She found an extremely attractive older man at the dining table with a plate of food in front of him.

  ‘Hi,’ she said, as she offered her hand.

  ‘Hi,’ he said, wiping his hand on a napkin and stretching it out to her.

  ‘I’m Pinky.’

  ‘I’m not ava
ilable.’

  Pinky laughed. ‘You’re not my type.’

  He put a hand on his heart and said, ‘Thank God. I hate these parties.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I’m an old-fashioned guy.’

  ‘Then what are you doing here?’

  He smiled. ‘Oh this is my farmhouse. My brother and his lovely wife wanted to host this party here. But about an hour ago he told me this was going to be a key chain party. And I didn’t even know what it meant.’

  ‘Well now do you know?’

  He offered her a plate of food and she declined, taking a sip of her vodka with orange juice.

  ‘I know that all the men’s car keys are put in a bowl and all the wives pick out a set of keys. Whichever man it belongs to goes home with them. Or if they don’t have a place to go, they are allowed to use any of the five bedrooms in this house.’

  ‘You have five bedrooms? That’s astonishing!’

  ‘You think that’s the astonishing part of this conversation? Did you not hear about the wives going off with different men?’

  ‘Oh come on,’ Pinky laughed. ‘You’ll get used it.’

  ‘Strange people doing it in your bedroom? Or the fact that they’re not married to each other?’

  ‘Stop being so old-fashioned,’ Pinky said. ‘It brings excitement into a relationship. And no one is forcing you to drop your keys into that bowl. And no woman is forced to pick up the keys either. All the couples understand the concept so it’s not as if it affects them later.’

  He looked at her and knew she had done this before. ‘How many times have you picked up another man’s keys from a bowl?’

  ‘Oh, a few. It’s been interesting. But if someone truly repulses you, you can easily feign a headache and just sleep. Or you can pretend to be so drunk that you slap him or pass out or both!’

  He laughed. ‘I’ve never been slapped. I don’t think I would like it. I’ve never done the dating bit. I felt like my brother and his wife had such a healthy relationship. And now I see this happening. I wonder if they’re headed for a divorce or if this is the new definition of marriage.’