Imtihaan : Part I

zindagi kabhi zakeen kabhi gumaan hai

kadam kadam pe tera mera imtihaan hai …

Part I

The pilot skillfully maneuvered the helicopter and prepared for landing. The weather was extreme, with the wind howling all around and sheets of rain enveloping his sight. He could see the tar at the end of the vast stretch of plot, all fenced around, with security personnel positioned at strategic positions all across. It was a dark and stormy night and it seemed like as if the heavens have opened up on the earth below. Flashes of lightning streaked across as the sky as he finally managed to make the landing.

Immediately, a middle-aged man rushed towards the copter, oblivious to the rain beating down his broad back and soaking him to the core. In his hand, he carried an umbrella and at his signal, a black-colored Benz approached the strip, waiting patiently like a black jaguar, all stealth and power.

The pilot turned towards the sole inhabitant who was busy filing his papers back into his case. He had not uttered more than ten words probably during the entire flight and his solemn appearance attached a degree of mysteriousness to his persona. Also he had hardly taken any notice of the serious weather beating all around them and seemed to be wrapped up in his own world. As the door at his side opened, he slid his dark glasses back into place, but not before murmuring a gentle yet curt 'Thank you Haridas' to the pilot. Haridas wiped the sweat away from his brow and started breathing easily.

The middle-aged man outside extended his hand to receive the briefcase, while holding the umbrella over the head of the head of the man who had just alighted. Being of middle height, he definitely had work cut out for him as the object of his protection was well over 6 feet in height. His face broke into a genial smile as the younger man bent slightly to touch his feet.

'Mehta Uncle' he said. 'You are still the same. God, I missed you so much.'

Mehta Uncle's face was all flushed with happiness as he spurted 'I know Beta. I was dying to see you for a long time. See what a fine gentleman I have in front of me today.'

The younger man smiled as he embraced the other man. In earnest, he said

'God! Uncle you are fully drenched. Let's hurry. We surely won't want you to fall ill, do we? Why didn't you wait inside the car?'

Mr. Mehta patted him affectionately and ushered him towards the waiting car,

'Let's go home. Everybody's waiting for you. Especially your Father!'

There was a marked change in the countenance of the younger man, as the expression on his face became serious once again. He surely was looking forward to the meeting.

…………

Effortlessly, the Benz glided around the corner and a picturesque mansion loomed up in front of them. As the gates opened slowly, Mr. Mehta watched the younger man taking in the scene in front of him, a worried feeling nagging at his very heart. The younger man had removed his glasses long back, staring listlessly at the world passing by them, his brooding nature making a comeback.

'He needs some more time to settle down' Mr. Mehta thought, as the car stopped in front of the portico and the chauffeur hurried to open the door.

……….

The house in front of him resembled more of a palace than an abode, reeking of opulence and stolid family history. The last time he was here had been 3 years back when he had come to attend his sister's funeral. He loved his sister a lot and couldn't even imagine settling down in the same place, without her fussing over him – without them sharing their lives, their happiness and their miseries. Wisps of childhood memories floated in front of his eyes, all involving his sister, since they were kids and he noted with a grim realization, that he already missed her. Sighing, he stepped towards the main door. Three years is a pretty short time.

…………..

The main door swung open as the cackle of the people, who had gathered in the hall, died down.

A portly man, somewhere in his late 50s, got up, his arms extended to greet his son.

'Raghav' he called out as he approached his youngest son – the youngest scion of the Sanghwan family, a name revered and equally detested by people in the outside world.

'Welcome back Son' the older man patted his son affectionately as his arms went around his son's shoulders. Raghav hugged him back, a smile re-appearing on his face. He felt as if he was back home.

Uday Sanghwan motioned towards the crowd of people waiting to meet him and said,

'Beta, all these people have come to meet you and participate in our happiness. Am sure you will have a good time. I am so proud of you.'

The smile left Raghav's eyes as he realized that he would have to appear social for quite some time, before he could retire peacefully. He wanted a quiet reunion with his family but no! He could always trust his Dad to put on a show regarding everything in life.

He looked all around. Where the heck was his Mother?

………….

In a spacious room upstairs, amidst ringlets of smoke further intensifying the already fetid atmosphere, sat Devyani Sanghwan, the proud hostess. It's not everyday that her son returned to home. But she was contented being surrounded by her friends, as they all attentively checked their own cards. Some smoked derisively while their drinks stood in mock salute in front of them, in search of a better occupation.

The door opened a bit and a liveried valet entered the room. He said in a slight voice

'Madam, Raghav Sa'ab has arrived.'

The thin lips curved into a smile but vanished immediately when she stared at the cards in her hand. She said

'Bhikaji, let me finish this round. I will be down pretty soon.'

Bhikaji left the room, closing the door behind him.

………….

The din in the hall increased as the night deepened, Raghav noted. It was a Friday night and most of them would have the weekend off, Raghav realized.

'A completely wrong day to return' he mused.

All he wanted to do was to retire for the day and crash on his bed. But it didn't seem to be happening. Despite the rain lashing outside, the swirls of people inside seemed to be ever-rising.

How he wished for some solitude!

He walked to one of the Palladian's at one side of the hall and looked outside. The rain showed no signs of abatement and Raghav could feel the gloom settle over his heart.

'Raghav! My darling' he heard a shrill voice calling out for him. He turned around to see his Mother sailing down the staircase. She still looked elegant and beautiful; he had to give it to her.

He walked towards her and in a few strides was in front of her. Bending down, he touched her feet when she slightly admonished him,

'Don't be silly Raghav. What's all the fuss with touching one's feet? It is so old-fashioned. And I don't expect it from you, my foreign-educated son. Come and hug me.'

Raghav hugged his Mother who immediately pulled him to meet her friends and acquaintances. He readily complied.

……………

Mehta was worried. He knew Raghav of thence – the man in front of him was a boy once, wonder-eyed and sincere, who spent a lot of time with him. But today he was a changed man, dark-eyed and mysterious. But still he recognized the signs of unease and fatigue.

Mehta has been with the family for quite some years now and knew how they worked. He had hoped for some more warmth for the boy returning to his country after so many years. But some things never change.

His eyes scanned the room; no sign of Yuvraj, the elder son of Devyani and Uday Sanghwan. He was expected to be in the party, must be lying somewhere fully drunk, completely oblivious to the whole world around him.

He sighed as he saw Raghav taking leave from the relatives and guests and walking up the stairs towards his room. Mehta slipped away from the crowd too and made his way to Raghav's room to check on him and find out if he needed anything else.

……………..