Chapter 18

2 years ago

twerping

@twerping

Raman had almost reached Mayur Vihar when the first roll of thunder was heard. He ended the call to Mihir and glanced at his watch. It was just about half past 10. Ruhi would be asleep by now, he thought. His daughter had grown used to falling asleep on her own. In Mumbai, his work schedule had been such that he would rarely be at home during her bedtime. With a very capable nanny in place and with Ruhi being such a compliant child, Raman had successfully convinced himself she was satisfied, happy, and needed for nothing. 

But that conviction had collapsed in face of a growing restlessness that could no longer be ignored. For some time now he had been witnessing Ruhi's growing adoration for Ishita and had taken it for the passing fancy of a child. But at the clinic, Ruhi's behaviour towards Ishita had left him shaken. Had Raman's anger at Shagun not pushed him into denying his own wounds to the point where the mask he wore had become his very identity, he would have realised that his daughter too was hurting from the loss of a mother. 

As the first drops of rain hit the windshield, ahead of him, he saw her car parked by the curb. Since their last conversation at the clinic, Raman had decided he would give Ishita Iyer a wide berth. And with that intention, Raman did not slow down even as he crossed her car. He noted that she was sitting at the wheel. As the rain splattered against his windscreen, Raman found himself watching her car in the rearview mirror. It stood solitary in the fast-emptying street. He was almost at the gates of the housing society when Raman realised it was quite late and that Ishita might have been in some kind of trouble. Her car might have broken down and she might be stuck. This would not be the first time for that to happen either, he grumbled. Muttering a curse under his breath, Raman turned his car around. 

The red behemoth was standing just where he had last seen it. Raman parked behind Ishita's car and turned off the engine. The rain was pouring down now. He had no umbrella. Letting out a sigh, Raman stepped out and jogged up to the car that stood stock still. 

When his calling out her name in their various combinations found no response, Raman thumped on her window. He could make out her figure inside the car, hands frozen on the steering wheel. The rain made it difficult for him to see much else. She gave a start and turned to him as he was about to deliver another round of thumps. 

"Mrs. Iyer!" he called out, feeling a growing sense of alarm in him. She proceeded to roll down the window as Raman waited impatiently getting steadily drenched as he stood in the heavy rain. 

"Mr. Bhalla?" Ishita's voice was raspy. Even as she looked at him, Raman could not help feeling as if something was deeply wrong. 

"The car broke down?" he asked now, wiping the rainwater from his brows.

"You are getting wet," she said. Raman felt a spike of irritation at her stating the obvious and forged on ignoring her statement.

"Car broke down again?" he asked. 

"It's raining," Ishita spoke again. 

Raman ran to the other end of the car and tried the door. Ishita Iyer showed some sense this time and let down the lock. In moments, Raman was inside the car, getting the leather wet and not caring about it a bit. He trusted this car had seen worse than some dampness. 

There she sat, hands once again curling around the steering wheel, watching him with a cautious air. 

"Should I call for a pickup? Engine not starting?" Raman asked her, in a lower voice, now that he did not have to contend with the rain.

He watched her lips purse into a thin line as she looked away. No answer came his way. 

"Look, just come with me. I will drive you home." He spoke again, a hesitancy creeping into his voice. Ishita Iyer, even as she sat before him, pale-faced, silent, refusing to meet his eyes, unsettled him. 

Feeling like an intruder, Raman opened his mouth to repeat his offer to drive her home. 

"The engine is fine," Ishita spoke.

"Okay," Raman paused, trying to figure out the situation. "And you are parked in the middle of the road because---" he broke off, hoping she would say something.

Ishita remained silent. Raman's eyes caught her trembling hand. 

"You wanted to enjoy the rain, I take it then," He found himself saying, the lightness in his voice belying his growing concern. 

"You can leave," she spoke again. "Everything is fine." This time her hands did not shake. Raman could make out the tautness of the skin against her knuckles as she held tight to the steering wheel as if fearing it would blow away.

"Ishita, " Raman tried to soften his voice. "Let me take you home. It's getting late and there seems to be something wrong with the car. Just lock it properly and you can return tomorrow to fix whatever has broken down." 

She did not appear to have heard even a word that he was saying. Annoyance spiked once more and this time Raman reached out and pulled at her wrist. 

"Whatever has gone wrong, fix it tomorrow." He bit out as Ishita looked at him finally, her wide eyes glistening in the dimness of the street lights. 

"Go away Mr. Bhalla," Ishita rasped out, pulling away her hand from his hold.

"Mrs. Iyer, I don't think--" Raman never finished what he had wanted to say. 

"Just leave me alone!" She shrieked. The sound of the rain and the thunder drowned her out. The two of them sat in the car, looking at each other, both in shock. 

"Shall I take you somewhere else?" The words were out before Raman could stop himself. Ishita's eyes widened. A shudder ran through her.  "I meant to say --", Raman tried to explain himself before she flew into another rage.

"Okay." 

Raman thought he had heard wrong. Ishita was looking ahead at the sheet of rain that enveloped the car. As he sat, slightly stupefied, she turned to look at him again and asked, "Where do we go?"

*************************************

Raman watched her step out of the car. She had gotten a bit wet when they had changed places in the car. She had refused to leave her car and so he had decided to abandon his. But he had put his foot down at her driving in that state. Reluctantly she had agreed to hand him the keys. Even in his present confusion, Raman had known where he wished to take her. Expecting her to change her mind at any moment, Raman had driven them to a different part of the city, to the apartment that his company had provided him. This flat, he could treat as a residence or a place to host clients. Till now, he had not brought anyone here apart from holding those occasional meetings with clients that required a more informal setting. This was the first time he had come here on his own without an entourage.

Now as they waited for the elevator, he watched Ishita Iyer gather her saree around herself, rainwater clinging to her hair and brow, her face calm. As they stepped into the lift, Raman wanted to reach out and take her hand in his. But as he battled with himself, the moment passed. Punching in his security code, Raman turned to find her leaning against the farther wall of the lift. He took a position opposite to her and they stood at two corners of the lift, eyes on the blinking light that notified which floor they were crossing. As it stopped at floor 19, the lift opened into Raman's apartment. It was Ishita who stepped out first and Raman followed. Finally, they stood beside each other, dripping rainwater on the marble floor, Raman with eyes trained on the woman before him, while she gazed across the finely decorated lounge.  

"Let me see if there is anything dry we can change into," Raman finally broke the silence.

Ishita nodded as she walked towards the balcony. The door to the balcony was closed but the glass gave a view of a wide expanse of the city, a sea of blinking lights glittering through the curtain of rain.

*************************************

"So that is how you make filter coffee!" 

Raman nodded as Ishita passed him a steaming cup. She had discovered a coffee filter tucked away in one of the kitchen cupboards along with an unopened bag of grounded coffee. 

When Raman had returned with towels, she had been in the kitchen, opening and shutting cupboards. This was the first time Raman stepped into the kitchen of this apartment. As he had held the towel out, for the first time that night she had smiled. There was a sparkle in her eyes that he had never seen before.  

"There might be some tea lying around," he had told her. Furnished as the apartment was by the company, the kitchen had been stocked by his P.A. Raman had as little idea about what riches the larders held as Ishita.

Taking the towel from him, Ishita had wiped herself as Raman watched her. With her eyes closed and half turned away from him, she had unclasped the clip that held her hair together and let it fall around her. He had followed her every movement, fascinated. The memory returned to him of that moment when she had crashed into his arms the very first time he had met her. And the memory carried with it the flush of desire to reach out and take her in his arms once more. 

 Abruptly turning away, Raman busied himself in opening the cupboards and hunting around for tea cups, tea leaves, and sugar. By the time he had the water boiling in the electric kettle, Ishita had managed to dry herself somewhat. Instead of coming towards him, she had continued opening and closing the cupboard doors, exclaiming over things that met her eyes. When she had found the coffee maker, she had given a low whistle. 

"This is just what we needed," she had exclaimed with a chuckle. "If only this magic world of yours would now grant me some coffee powder!" 

And Ishita's wish had been granted. A couple of cupboards later she found the coffee.