Part 21 –

 

Neither of them said a word all the way back to the hotel where they were staying.

Angad – I feel like a drink. Care to join me? (in hotel lobby)

Kripa – I'll sit for a while. I feel very shaky. He's an awful man.

Angad – of course he is. You can count your lucky stars you won't be getting him for a father – in – law after all.

Kripa – aunty is okay, she's easy enough to get on with, but she's right under his thumb, poor woman. He's such a domineering man. Even prithvi is intimidated by his father.

Angad – bag of wind. What can I get you?

Kripa – I don't especially want anything. (yes, she did. She wanted his arms around her )

Angad – lime juice? You want something to settle you down. I'm for a lime juice. Don't move from this spot. I'll be back in a moment.

Kripa thought her parents would soon get the news, watching angad going to give the order. When he reached he turned and looked back at her. She gave him a little wave, conscious woman on other table were looking at him as well. And why not? He was a marvelous looking man.

 

Kripa hadn't planned on falling in love with him. Yet here she was with him. Kripa drew great comfort from his nearness. Comfort and a kind of bliss that flushed her skin made her look as though she were lit from within.

Angad – what's with the boses always throwing punches? Wild punches, I might add.

Kripa – they see themselves as men of action (with a crazy impulse to lay her head on his shoulder)

Angad – better to think first and act later, looking towards the waiter who was approaching with their drinks.

Kripa took not a sip but gulp her drink. Things were getting right out of hand. The encounter with the bose had really thrown her.

Kripa – damini aunty won't lose any time ringing my parents to let them know they've seen me with you. They'll do it tonight.

Angad – it's always best to say exactly what you're doing, kripa. You're a grown woman not a child. You could have told your mother I was giving you a lift.

Kripa – I did

Angad – well, that's not so bad then? Would she tell your father?

Kripa – (shook her head) no, I'm beginning to think there's lots my mother doesn't tell my father. Sometimes I can't figure mamma out. She does things I know she doesn't want to, to please dad.

Angad – lots of wives would do that.

Kripa – mamma does it for a living. It's all coming to a head, isn't it?

Angad – it has to, kripa. You have to get on with your life. Whether I'm in it or not remains to be seen.

Kripa – sure you don't want to run that advertisement? (staring into his eyes)

Angad – only if you write it up for me.

Kripa – let's see, how would it go?

Angad – you're the journalist.

Kripa – photojournalist. I take photos as well.

Angad – I'm certain you'll take a good one of me. Now where were we?

Kripa – bush bachelor, 28, never married, very fit, owns his own pastoral property, is looking for a wife aged between??????

Angad – 24 – 28. under 24 too young to really know their own mind, over 28 older than me. 24 for preference. Must be brown hair with velvety brown doe eyes. An excellent horsewoman, interested in restoring a historic homestead, eventually having kids, two or three, must be able to guarantee a daughter who looks just like her. Let's see, what else?

Kripa – you don't need me at all (with tears in her eyes and trying to smile)

Angad – oh, yes, I do. Haven't I just described you?

Kripa – maybe I was the first one your gaze really fell on? Maybe knowing I was prithvi bose's fiance had something to do with it?

Angad – what is that supposed to mean, kripa?

Kripa – didn't uncle fire up when you called me kripa? You'd think that wasn't allowed.

Angad – answer the question, please.

Kripa – maybe you felt like taking something of his? (he kept looking at her until she looked away) actually I'm fine with that, but the thought never crossed my mind. I saw the connection as a huge complication. I definetly wanted to get to know you better, but there you were, engaged.

Kripa – I'm sorry

Angad – so you should be. But I'll forgive you. This one time.

Kripa – it could just as easily have been someone else. One of the mishra sisters. Harshani or simone. Both of them are very attractive and good company. They certainly gave the impression they were attracted to you.

Angad – so we've narrowed it down to the mishra sisters and you.

Inside kripa was deeply, deeply, shaken.

Kripa – I can't see clearly about myself, angad. You've got to heed it. What I do see is a 24 year old woman who was about to marry a man who continued to sleep with other women – I bet there were others – while we were engaged, then he impregnated one. Finally to cap it off a man who told another woman to get rid of his own child so he could still marry me. What kind of a fool did he think I was? What kind of a fool am I for that matter?

Angad – what kind of a callous b****** is he, don't you mean? Countless people have been deceived, kripa. Men and women. They give their trust only to have it trampled underfoot. One doesn't have to be a fool for that to happen. It happens right across the board.

Kripa – trust is so very important. It is to me yet it's so easy to lose faith. What happens then? Does one turn into a cynic, never trusting anyone again?