Chapter 2

2 years ago

varshaoforange

@varshaoforange

Aryan drove slowly, the car was completely silent for what seemed like ages. Then Arpita cleared her throat and broke the quiet, “Bhai, do you think only having Imlie’s story on the brothel today in the newspaper is enough? Are you going to have her perhaps go on the new channel? That way she can reach more people, right?”

Aryan nodded; it was a good idea. He looked at Imlie out of the corner of his eye, but what if she wasn’t ready?

But Imlie’s face answered his question, her eyes lit up, and he saw the beginnings of a genuine smile, “Arpita Didi, that sounds like so much fun. I don’t know if your rude brother will agree to it, but it is such an important story. Those women, they spent years thinking their dreams were never going to come true, that they’d never have control over their futures. But today, all that changed for them. I hope my story tells everyone to look again at how they treat the women and girls in their lives. Especially if they know a woman in their community who may be struggling with a similar difficulty, even if it isn’t as extreme as what we saw today in the brothel.” She took a breath after this and to her surprise, the pit in her stomach was diminishing, she felt excited and inspired to do something for the first time in a while. She looked at Aryan, she wanted to do this, it was a critical story, but she knew she’d have to convince him. He never said yes to anything easily.

“Aryan ji…” Imlie said in the sweetest voice she could muster, even after knowing him for this long she never gave up trying to make him smile or laugh. She’d seen his laugh once, and it felt like a magical experience.

Aryan fought back a smile, he kept his face as blank as possible, and he kept his voice even too, “There is no need to pretend to be nice Imlie, of course I’ll have you go on the channel, but if you mess this up—“

Imlie took the chance and didn’t let him finish the sentence, “Aryan, I am not going to mess up, I got this.”

Aryan nodded curtly, “Fine.” He saw Imlie’s little fist pump out of the corner of his eye, and fought back the smile again. He had no idea why, but it was getting easier and easier to say yes to Imlie these days. He had to maintain the boundary he’d built with everyone else at work, even his friends because letting that boundary drop is what made the pain worse when Arvind had died. Dropping that wall made it harder for him to focus on his only two goals: providing for his mother and sister, and revenge.

The rest of the ride to Rathore Mansion could have been finished in silence, but because of Imlie, (Of course she’s feeling better, Aryan thought, I have no idea how she does that.), the car was flooded with noise from the radio. She immediately started singing along to some old Kishore song and had managed to get Maa and Arpita Didi to join in. Aryan caught his sister and mother laughing and clapping along to Imlie’s horrible rendition of the song, she was even adding in her own silly lyrics. A month ago, if anyone, even his sister, had gotten in his car, while he was driving, and had turned on the radio, and then started singing, he would have thrown that person out of his car and left them on the side of the road. But again, Imlie had changed him. He didn’t know if it was good though. He didn’t like feeling worried whenever he didn’t know where Imlie was. It was similar to the dull ache he’d had for years since Arvind’s passing. He hated that how she felt or what she thought now factored into his decisions, because he knew it would make revenge harder.

He pulled into the driveway of the house, and shut off the radio, “Imlie, go and finish your report. I don’t think singing this nonsense at the top of your lungs is good for you, either. It’s definitely not good for my ears.”

Imlie chuckled and let the comment roll off of her, Aryan couldn’t open his mouth without negatively commenting on something or another about her. If it wasn’t her singing, it was her dancing, or it was the way she pronounced certain English words. “Aryan Ji, this is why I pity you, you don’t know the real value of music.” She grinned at Arpita Didi as she undid her seatbelt, “Arpi Didi, tell me, was your brother always like this? When Narmada Kaki would try to sing him a lullaby as a kid did he stop her and say, ‘Maa, there’s no reason to sing this, it’s complete nonsense.’” Imlie laughed at her own caricature.

Arpita smiled, “Actually, Aryan used to be the singer and dancer of the family, right Maa?”

Narmada chimed in as the four of them got out of the car, “Arpi is right, Imlie. This dummy used to sing beautifully, he also never let go of a chance to go dancing in these clubs that young people go to.”

Aryan put his face in his hands, “Maa, why are you talking about—“

Imlie’s jaw dropped, “Aryan. The Aryan Singh Rathore. The business tycoon, former Mister India runner up, the president of the Bad Mood Society, likes to dance? In clubs?”

Aryan stopped the conversation before it could go any further, “Liked. Past tense. Not anymore. Imlie, go inside and do your report. Maa, Didi, go rest, today was a lot. And Imlie remember, I need it in Hindi and—“

Imlie skipped over to the front door and called back to Aryan, “You need it in English and Hindi. I know. But right now, I’m going to make dinner. Because nothing is a better pick-me-up than cooking for my family.”

Narmada patted Aryan on the shoulder, “Aryan, don’t be too hard on her, you know what she went through today. You went through it too.” She smiled and followed Imlie into the house.

Aryan was paralyzed. He stopped moving the second he heard the word ‘family.’ Imlie considered them family? How did she do that? Why was it so easy for her to consider everyone her own? He shook his head and grumbled, It’s not a positive trait. This is why she’s too trusting of every imbecile that crosses her path.

As he walked into the house only a minute later than the rest of them, he could already hear Imlie’s raucous singing from the kitchen, and he knew in just a little while, somehow his massive house with over twenty rooms, would be full of the aroma of her cooking. This time he couldn’t hold back the smile.