The Woman I Love - IshRa OS (12/17)

The Woman I Love

"Who the bloody hell does she think she is? And who does she think I am? Her bloody servant? Praand..."

The rest of her words were lost on Raman, because firstly it was mostly grumbling, and secondly it was in Tamil, a language he was happy he didn't know right now.

He had been lounging in his room, playing World of Warcraft on his laptop which had been bought solely for this purpose, when his wife had entered their room, banging the door closed on her way in and muttering away nonsense to no one in particular. He still couldn't believe the ease with which he referred to his room as theirs, when a few months ago he wouldn't even give her a little space in his wardrobe. Now not only did her clothes occupy all the space in their cupboard, but her jewelry and make up was all over the dressing table, her books covered the mantle and wall unit and a stack of romantic comedies were sprawled next to his own action movie collection. Oh the things a married man had to do.

"Who are you cursing at this time of the day? Kabhi toh chutti le liya karo lectures se," he retorted to his wife, who looked his way, confused to find him wasting away his time at home.

"Why are you at home?"

"I came back ages ago, Madam. There were no important meetings today and Mihir was leading the one there was."

She looked somewhat pacified with his explanation and gave him a small smile which turned back into a frown once he asked her about her anger again.

"That...that stupid wench! What does she think..I mean I always knew...but still..." she began her half worded and half "humphed" speech, which was all incoherent to Raman.

He sighed to himself before standing up from the couch and making his way towards her. He held her by her shoulders and forced her to face him before raising an eyebrow at her.

"Usually I wouldn't have to ask, but because I know that I haven't done anything to annoy you...yet, why don't you speak in a language that us humans understand and not just you aliens."

If he was expecting a witty reply to his snark, he was gladly mistaken. The veins of his wife's forehead were bulging and he could almost feel the tangible anger and annoyance she was carrying.

"Your stupid selfish ex-wife is my problem. That stupid malicious woman is trying to kill me with her stupid ignorance and stupid haughty attitude. Why couldn't you have married a normal person, Raman? This stupid psychopath was the only thing you got find to get married to?"

Raman, who had been trying to keep a count of the number of times Ishita had said the word stupid in the past statement, tried to keep his groan to himself as she ended with that question.

"Trust me, I ask myself the same question every day. And not just once - I did the same mistake twice! Once a psychopath and the next time a neurotic lecturer. What is wrong with me?"

Her reply was to roll her eyes.

Raman had always known that the result of bringing Adi and Shagun home was not going to be pleasant. It wasn't only because she was his ex-wife and a conniving woman at that, but also because he and Ishita were at an all-time high in their relationship. They had just begun to properly give another start to their relationship, this time without the whole "just for Ruhi" feelings, which had been "bull crap" from the beginning if he were to be honest. And then this brake had come into their lives and caused an accident in it again.

If he had to put it into words, he felt as though he was living in some sort of Cinderella snow globe and whenever he felt as though he and his princess (or rather queen, if you considered his "Jhansi ki Rani" address) were finally at a stable point in life, something or someone, often the stepmother and sisters, namely Ashok, Shagun and Param, shook that damn thing and his life was disrupted all over again.

Truth to be told, he hadn't believed that Ishita would be as understanding as she was acting. She had been nonchalant about Shagun, carefully acting as a cushion between the aforementioned witch and his family, trying to stop them from creating an even bigger mess out of this craziness.

It was almost comical to him how his family members had alienated Shagun and only talked to Adi, who was confused, as to who he was supposed to be loyal to - his mother or the people who were molly-coddling him. He had spent half of his life trying to be the husband that Shagun wanted, trying to bend his family according to her wishes. Now, he mused, he was a bystander to the rightful treatment they meted out to her. Almost karmic justice.

But he could see the toll this dance was taking on Ishita. He was yet to see her properly since the duo had moved in, which he was dying to do. It was some sort of ironic joke God had planned on him, he thought. When he hadn't wanted to spend time with his wife, the entire universe had been bringing them close with his family members doing everything in their power to get them alone, and when finally all he wanted was to spend some moments looking into her soulful eyes and talk to her, everything in the world was against their romance.

There had been moments before - when he had seen her in that green dress, in that net sari at Mihir's sangeet, the day of the hen party and then the wedding - when all he had wanted to do was bury Ishita in his arms and spend hours exploring the passion they shared and find out if they were as compatible in the bedroom as they were in every other aspect in life. But he had known that even though they were married, even though he had all the legal rights, he did not have the right to that level of intimacy. Now that they were finally husband and wife in all the ways possible, Raman Kumar Bhalla could not believe that he was still to be with her. He couldn't believe that he was still resorting to cold showers and his hand!

He was being distracted by the look of annoyance in her eyes, which was his metaphorical forbidden apple - the moment she was riled up, with her eyes full of anger, a deep red blush on her cheeks and that huff from her lips - his undoing. It led to all sorts of thoughts that would earn him a "chee" from his wife and another cold shower.

Just the other day, Ruhi had innocently asked him if he was afraid of catching the flu from the germs around, because he was taking a bath at irregular intervals. He thanked all the gods in heaven that none of his family had been there. He didn't think anyone would have to think twice to know his real predicament. He could already envision all the new innuendoes his beautiful wife would come up with.

Before he winded up forcing her into their marital bed and kissing away that look from her face, he shook his head as if to stop himself from going tangent and asked her again, "What did she do now?"

"I made chole-bhature for lunch and she says, "Ishita, couldn't you have made something with a little less oil. All this oily food cannot be good for you" in that whiny voice of hers. I swear to God, if Adi hadn't been right there, I would have force fed her the bottle of oil itself!"

Raman grinned as she said that and answered, "Why do you even cook for her? Let her make whatever salad she wants herself. Why bother?" He was genuinely baffled with her accommodating nature. Let the witch make whatever she wanted.

"She is a guest, Raman. I don't want her in my kitchen," she grumbled, not meeting his eyes.

"Huh?"

"You won't understand. It's just that it's my right to be in our kitchen. This is my house, right? Not hers. So, I don't want her to enter it," she finished and met his eyes. Raman almost laughed at the look of childish stubbornness on her face. He didn't understand kitchen politics (pun intended), but this was funny and really cute in some perverse sort of way.

"Possessive, are we?" he teased, loving the blush the slowly covered her, starting from her shoulders to her forehead. But if he was expecting her to back down, he was pleasantly surprised.

"Of course. This handsome husband right here and everything related to him is only mine."

He raised his eyebrow, amused at her display of affection as she winked at him.

"Want to go out for lunch?" he asked on a hunch, wanting to prolong whatever this moment they were having.

She lit up like a little kid in a candy store before deflating, "What about the witch in the living room on her prowl of prey?"

"Let her eat that chole-bhature you've made. That should be punishment enough for all the sins she's committed," he joked, letting her out of his embrace, and walking back towards her laptop, albeit to close it this time around. He had just gotten his muse for entertainment back.

"Are we going out because you want to spend time with me, or because you don't want to eat what I made?" she asked, narrowing her eyes, though she made her way to the wardrobe to get a change of clothes.

Raman smirked and said, "I am already going to be tortured when I spend time with you, what with your lectures and unhealthy efforts to grope me. I figure, let someone else be tortured with your food too." He winked his customary wink and blew her a flying kiss, while she looked affronted, amused and shy altogether.

She didn't negate his claim about groping him, he noticed belatedly, as she made her way to the bathroom to change.

And Raman Kumar Bhalla smiled a shy smile all of his own.

Ishita laughed as the couple walked towards his car. She could see Raman biting his lip to stop himself from bursting out loud, from the corner of her eye, but his dimple gave it away.

They had walked into the living room to find Shagun sitting at the table, looking at the food in disgust while Adi had probably gone off to play or something. Romi had been at work, Simmi had gone to the market with her parents and Ananya in tow to get things for the new house and Ruhi had been at her mother's; Neelu was in the kitchen ignoring Shagun, just like her Mummyji had taught her. That alone had brought a grin on Raman's face. Shagun had looked up to see them approaching the front door and stood up too.

"Are you guys going out? I'll come too. I have to get something healthy to eat. I'll just get my purse."

Raman had almost groaned and was thinking of a reply when his Jhansi ki Rani had spoken up, "I'm going out with my husband. I don't think you would want to play third wheel, would you?" she had said with a false smile and a saccharine tone. The "like you always do" was muttered under her breath and Raman had to close his eyes to stop Shagun from the seeing the amusement in them.

It was comical to see Shagun falter in her steps, and then she had looked at Raman, as if expecting his support. Internally disgusted, his words though had been, "Right. My wife and I are going on a date. And anyway, you're Punjabi, right? You must love chole bhature." The couple had then given her identical smirks and made their way out of their house.

Raman had noticed the taunts from the first day she and Adi had entered his chaotic yet peaceful house. It had begun with Ishita's sense of dressing and progressed to her food and then her resorting to her mother tongue whenever she was angry or annoyed. Everything firmly ended with Shagun saying, "You won't understand. You're not Punjabi, right?" and Ishita rolling her eyes privately. Yes, he joked around and called her Madrasan, but it grated his nerves how a complete stranger could mock his wife - he was her husband, Shagun was no one. He had all the rights to protect, cherish, love and taunt his wife, she did not.

He had never loved his brother more though. Yesterday, when something had led to the same dialogue, Romi had put his arm around his sister-in-law's shoulder and said, "Of course she is. Punjabi to the core. After all, she's a Bhalla." He had only heard the events later on from Ruhi's mouth; he figured he would have kissed his brother if he were there. He was getting a raise in his salary though.

It felt good to shut her up for once, and once they were in the parking lot, the entire laughter riot had started.

As they sat in the car, he could feel her eyes on him. He hid his smirk as he knew exactly what she was acting so weird about. It didn't take a genius to figure it out. His wife had actually gone all out for their "date," wearing a complete Punjabi style blue suit with her hair open and her eyes kohled to perfection. He had noticed it right as he had finished putting on his shoes. It may have been Shagun's taunts, although he knew it was more for him than anyone else, but his wife was trying to be the picture perfect Punjabi woman.

He remembered saying something to that effect on the Varalaxmi Puja day, and seeing her dressed in the red suit, just for him, on Karwachauth had all but made him eat his own tongue.

But today, today she had knocked his socks off. Because, he could feel the whole emotion behind her getting dressed. It wasn't about wearing the right color or the right jewelry; it was about the idea that she had spent so much time behind the doors, getting ready for something as measly as lunch. It was about the effort they were both putting in to take this stagnant relationship of theirs forward, especially in face of the problem named Shagun.

But Raman would not be Raman if he let his wife have her due share of praise so easily. Let her conjure up fantasies like he had as soon as he had seen her - if it weren't for the fact that they both actually needed to get away from the drama at home, he might have closed that bedroom door and not come out for lunch, dinner or breakfast the next day.

Offhandedly, he realized that whenever they did actually start something new, he might have to order-in or something. They had a lot of time to make up for.

While his destination had actually been an Italian restaurant a la five-star hotel, his date had started screaming like a banshee halfway across from the place.

He applied the car brakes suddenly and frowned at her. "Stop screaming, will you? Someone will think that I'm kidnapping you or something."

She had poked out her tongue at him and proceeded to point at the street side vendor there. "He makes delicious Pav Bhaji, Raman. Let's eat from there." She had then gone out to use the "pout and use the puppy dog eyes to lure your husband into even murdering someone" look. Who was Raman to say no to that powerful weapon?

It shouldn't have surprised him that Ishita would enjoy street food far more than any five star hotels. For her, he realized, it had never been about the worth of the place, it had always been about the ambience, the people she was with, the emotions she was riding high on. He had seen it the day he had taken her to his favorite eating joint after the party where they had talked about Adi, and he had seen it again today - the childlike glee in her eyes.

She was like a child in many ways - the way she tried to find goodness in everyone, the manner in which she couldn't comprehend why people were greedy or jealous or evil for no particular reason, the way she lit up for the littlest of things.

He had been that way once, before he had been betrayed and burnt into ashes by his ex-wife and the venom she possessed, and then he had grown into a stoic and ruthless businessman. He had seen all the evils that could be seen, all the love that could be fall into pieces like a house of cards with the smallest of breezes. And till she had come into his life, he hadn't thought he could feel that innocence in him again.

He looked at her pleading face as he tried to decode the enigma that was his wife. A mass of contradictions, she had fallen for him when he had been harsh and punitive with her. She had broken apart all the walls he had made around his heart - she had done stupid things, no doubt, but at the end of the day, she had cared. Cared enough about him, about his daughter, about his family, that everything else was just details.

He had tried to leave her so that she could find her way without him, without the pain that his past carried with it, but the stubborn child she was, she had just stuck to him like Velcro and slapped him on the head with the same divorce papers. And she had privately kicked him in the shins and told him to stop being a "daft head" because every happiness she had gotten in life was from him and the next time he did something like this, she would set up Ruhi on him set him straight.

It was like being in quicksand - the more he tried to get away, the more he fell for her.

He pretended to sigh and then grumble. "You have no class, Madrasan. Low class mentality hi rehna." She missed the smile on his face as he got out of the car and opened her door for her.

"Why do you have to taunt me when we're out on a date? Can't you be romantic for one day?" she asked while they crossed the road and reached the stall.

"If I don't taunt you, with all the extra praise that everyone is showering on you just to spite Shagun, you'll blow up, Ishita. Waise hi, you're all round and blown up, aur phool gayi toh, I'll have to tether you to the ground or you'll be off in the air like some puffed up balloon."

Her retort was her signature "Kuch Bhi."

When the shopkeeper had seen them and said, "Arre Bhaiya aap? Aur aaj bhabhiji ko bhi saath layein hain?" Raman had grimaced sheepishly at Ishita who had been raising her eyebrow.

"You come here? Low class, huh?" she had asked him with a sardonic smile, while he had gladly ignored her.

"Don't make it too spicy, bhaiya. Pehli hi teekhi mirchi hai, aur zubaan teekhi ho gayi, toh mujhe raas nahi aayegi," he had told the shopkeeper, while his wife had casually stomped on his foot with her five inch heels. It was all Raman could do to not howl with pain.

They had had their food, and while Raman wanted to sulk about him being physically impaired due to her violence, it was extremely difficult when she kept smiling about something. Her smile was making him smile, which was definitely not a good sign for his anger. He knew that today was probably one of the last days for a while when they were going to be alone. He could either sulk and joke around like he usually did, or spend some quality time with his wife. He had seen the look on her face when they had been served the food; it possibly mirrored his - something was telling him that they should have fed each other - and it weren't for the crowd around, Raman would have probably done that.

But he wasn't the CEO of a corporation for nothing - he always took the right decisions. Then, as though remembering the last decision he had taken, he mentally reprimanded, almost always took the right decision.

And so he took the metaphorical step on the moon. Raman Kumar Bhalla, completely aware of his actions, slipped his fingers through his wife's and held on to it. And he could say this without any hesitation, that the moment had been exhilarating and nerve wracking altogether. He had waited to see her response, and although she had seemed a little surprised at first, blinking at the ground twice before looking up at him, something in his eyes must have given her some strength, because her smile had just grown and she had simply tightened her hold on his hand.

He could feel his heart beating faster, and his pulse racing - he had never thought that a simple hand holding would give him heart palpitations. But doing it consciously, doing it because he wanted her hand in his, doing it simply because he wanted to, was so much better than a lot of the intimate moments he had shared with Shagun.

So lost was Raman in the whole conundrum that this hand holding was turning out to be, that he was startled when Ishita had tugged hard on his hand and pulled him towards the park nearby.

"I know you have the mental capacity of a five year old, but do you seriously want to play on the see saw now?"

"Shut up. I want to show you something."

"Is it that broken swing which perhaps broke when someone, called...say Ishita, sat on it?"

"What? Wait...shut up, Raman. I am not fat. Or heavy. Stop it with that nonsense."

Raman would have continued with his fun at her expense, if she hadn't stopped in front of a single empty bench and stared at it as if willing it to open and show her Alibaba's cave.

"This is your something special?" he asked, confused out of his mind. Did she fall somewhere and hit her head or something? Because, for the life of him, he couldn't figure out what was so special about it.

She had looked up at him with wet eyes though, and that had stopped him. Something about having her hand in his while she looked so vulnerable was calling out to all the protective alpha male instincts in him but he couldn't figure out what to say or do.

She didn't leave his hand as she sat down on the bench, forcing him to sit with her. He waited for her the speak. Ishita Bhalla did not like silence, and she was bound to open up if silence so beckoned. He smiled inwardly at how well he knew her when she started. "I used to come here every day before our wedding."

She looked nostalgic and melancholic as she sat there staring at the empty playground in front of them. "I loved watching the children play around here. Their smiles, their loud boisterous laughs, the innocent looks on their faces - I used to come here every day to see that, knowing I could never have it for myself."

Instead of consoling her, Raman had just tightened his grip on their entangled fingers and said, "I used to go to the little toy store near my office after Shagun left with Adi. I didn't have much money then, but I would envision buying all those toys and games for him."

Ishita sniffed and turned her gaze towards him, "You know, the only reason I agreed to her staying at our house is because of Adi. I know how much you yearn to see him with you. We were being given a chance to achieve that - I couldn't say no...especially because of that miserable excuse for a woman."

He had already been staring right into her eyes when he whispered, "I know. And I can't thank you enough for it." His thumb was unconsciously rubbing the area between her forefinger and thumb. It must have given her some inner strength and conviction because the next thing she said knocked him off his kilter. "I'm scared."

"Why? You have to know that I would never leave you for that greedy woman!" he answered, confused at where her insecurities stemmed from.

Ishita had rolled her eyes at him, again, and said, "I know that, you dolt. I am not jealous or afraid of losing you. If I was, we wouldn't have been able to joke about her as your first wife! I'd not even have let you utter her name."

He smiled, seeing his Jhansi ki Rani in full form. So he was right yet wrong about what she was insecure about. He remembered the time during the cocktail party and then the wedding of the non-marriage of Shagun and Ashok, how they had joked about who was more beautiful of the two. He didn't think that any other couple would be able to joke about their exes like they could. And Ishita was right - Shagun was inconsequential. But then what had gotten her so anxious.

"I'm scared that I'll lose Ruhi to her," she had said as an answer to his unspoken question.

He should have known that Ruhi wanting to sleep with Shagun for a night would be the cause of all her worries. His wife was so gullible that although he wanted to take the mickey out of her about this, he knew that she would die if he did so. It wasn't hard to notice how much Ishita loved and depended on Ruhi for stability. In fact, he did too. Their six year old daughter was their emotional anchor - funny but true.

"Are you crazy? Ruhi? Ishita! Just because she slept with Shagun for a day, doesn't make you any less of a mother."

"But..."

"No. No buts. It's common sense, Ishita. You are her mother. Shagun is like that crazy aunt you meet on Christmas, who gives you all sorts of presents and gifts, but in the end returns back to her house after the celebrations end. When Shagun hasn't been a part of Ruhi's life till now, why do you think things will change?"

"Because at the end of the day, she is her biological mother. And as hard as I try, it's difficult to overcome."

Raman shook his head at her and left her hand, only to pull her towards him and place his hand around her shoulder. "Paagal ho tum yaar. You are her Ishimaa. Her mother. Shagun is a frivolous woman who doesn't give a damn about Ruhi...if she had, she wouldn't have left her in the first place. So, let's not carried away by emotions that have no place in our lives anymore. Bahut insecurities ho gayi. Ab bas."

She stared at him with those poignant eyes of hers, and smiled. The sort of smile that led to crinkles near her eyes and a twinkle in her eyes - that led to a smile on his face. Raman slowly and deliberately brought his face near hers, witnessing the way his beautiful wife closed her eyes and waited for his touch. As their lips met, he could feel his own eyes close. Her hands made their way towards his hair, while his were busy on her hips.

A few seconds later, they stopped. They hadn't even kissed properly, and yet Raman could feel his heart beating out of his chest and the deep breaths Ishita was taking.

He smiled as he said, "You look beautiful, by the way," and tucked that ever flying lock of hair behind her ear. Her eyes fluttered open at that and she looked disoriented and shy. If he could put that look of ecstasy and blush on her face every day, he thought, he would die a happy man.

"Ruhi chose the dress," she said.

"I know. Ruhi does have best choices, doesn't she? That doll house she bought, this dress, her mother.."

His sentence brought back some unknown emotion into her eyes, something that could only be described as elation and love, and this time she was the one who brought her lips to his.

As their lips joined, Raman knew that he had found nirvana. Intimacy or not, whenever that may happen, it didn't matter. He was a man completely bound to this woman in every sense of the word.

Ishita knew his demons - she battled them for him. She knew his vulnerabilities - she was his strength when he faced them. She had already seen him at his worst - she was still with him. Something caged in him was released as he came to the epiphany that this was what it meant to be emotionally secure. He may have loved before, but this time around, the love was real. This love wasn't based on materialistic things, or manipulated, or born out of the blindfold on his eyes. This love was based on trust, on companionship, on seeing and supporting each other through their worst times, on fighting each other's' battles for them and on smiling along with each other on seeing the light at the end of each tunnel.

Somehow, Raman and Ishita had built a phoenix from the burnt ashes of each other's hearts; it would heal every sweltering wound anyone tried to inflict on it, and destroy every dark power that tried to harm it.

Shagun and Adi were mere mortals.

***