Part 62
Eden Botanical Gardens, Chennai – next day, Monday September 3rd, 10 am
"What is this place, madrasan?" Raman asked, curiously peering around at the green bushes and colorful flowers.
"This-" She waved around at the surroundings. "-is the Eden Garden. It used to be one of our favorite hangout spots. I used to come here with my friends all the time. Sometimes I came here with a book or two just to read on my own."
She led him through an expanse of ankle-high grass beyond the entrance to a stone path cutting through the grass. They walked down the path, fingers interlocked, as they surveyed the rest of the garden. Large patches of thick low grass spread around them, separated by evenly spaced, parallel walkways. Lush bushes with blossoming flowers lined the border of the garden along with a knee-high iron fence.
They breathed in the fresh cool air as a light breeze blew against their face. Without the responsibilities of their everyday life occupying their mind, they felt extraordinarily light and carefree.
Green was the color of the grass
Where I used to read at Centennial Park
I used to think I would meet somebody there
Their week-long honeymoon had just begun and they had lots of plans. Ishita had excitedly listed down every place she wanted to re-visit from her childhood. Raman had researched the top tourist places and happening night life of the city. By the law of the land however, his wife won the argument and they had 'unanimously' decided to begin with Ishita's choice of places.
"You see that street?" Ishita pointed to a busy street beyond the border of the garden.
Raman nodded.
"If you go down that street to the right-" She stretched onto her tiptoes to point at where the street went. "-then my school appears. Even further down is my college. A lot of us used to come here after class and hang out until the bus arrived. A couple times, we even came here for lunch..."
She recognized a café at the edge of the road to her left and pointed there. "You see that café there? Tropical Café? We used to buy ice cream and frozen yogurt there. One of my friends used to work for the manager so he always gave us discount on everything off the menu."
Teal was the color of your shirt
When you were sixteen at the yogurt shop
You used to work at to make a little money
"It feels weird to come back here after so many years..." Ishita mused.
She gazed around at the ever so familiar sight. The garden was still covered with the same green grass and blooming flowers. The streets around were still teeming with vehicles and chaos. Even the corner shops and restaraunts were the exact same, signs fading and paint scraping away.
There was a time when her heart had been ripped to shreds and her life had shattered in this very place. Her entire life had turned upside down after that, but this city hadn't changed one bit. Everything remained the same in the grand scheme of the universe. A tiny laugh blew out of her.
"Kya soch rahi ho?" Raman asked.
"Just thinking how funnily time works," she replied. "Kitna sab kuch ho gaya peechle do saalon mein? Lekin duniya chalti gayi. Samay ka pahiya kabhi nahi ruka. Our own troubles seem so inconsequential under the grand scheme of things..."
Time, curious time
Gave me no compasses, gave me no signs
Were there clues I didn't see?
"Pata hai, jab mein Mumbai se ghar visit karne aata tha na, tab Delhi mein mujhe bhi aisa hi mehsoos hota tha," Raman joined. "Sab ke dil mein kuch na kuch tanhaayi ya takleef hogi, lekin pura sheher jaise us baat se anjaan tha."
He chuckled as he continued, "Yahan tak ki mere ghar mein bhi jaise kuch nahi badla. Har saal meri income doguni, chauguni badhti gayi, lekin mummy-papa ne ghar ka naksha badalne nahi diya. Maine hazaar baar unhe kaha hoga ki bade bungalow mein shift ho jaao, ya kam se kam puraane flat ka renovation karwaa lo, lekin woh kabhi nahi maane. Wohi diwaare, wohi furniture, wohi photo frames... Sab kuch waise ka waisa tha."
Raman sighed as he shook his head lightly.
"Mujhe itna khataktaa tha sab kuch ki ek waqt ke baad maine waapis jaana hi band kar diya," he revealed.
"Mujhme bhi Chennai waapis aane ki himmat nahi hoti, agar aap mere saath nahi hote." They turned to the left as the pathway curved around a tree. "Maine kabhi socha nahi tha, ki jis sheher mein apna bachpan bitaaya wahi par honeymoon manaaungi," she giggled.
"Funny stroke of luck?" Raman's head turned towards her and he wiggled his eyebrows.
Ishita shook her head. "I like to think it was fated to happen."
And isn't it just so pretty to think
All along there was some
Invisible string
Tying you to me?
They walked like that, hand in hand, talking about everything under the sun. No topic was foreign. Even when conversation ran out, they were content to walk in comfortable silence. Two hours passed by easily, and they didn't even realize it.
"Raman, it's past noon now. What's the plan for lunch?" Ishita asked.
"Tum bataao?" Raman retorted. "Tumhara sheher hai na? What's the best place to eat here?"
Ishita chewed her lip as a tentative plan formed in her mind. "Ek authentic Tamilian restaurant hai thodi door. Lunch ke liye wahaan chalte hai. Phir shaam ko we'll go to Dakshina Chitra Heritage Museum."
Raman rolled his eyes. "Madrasan, hum log honeymoon par aaye hai, school trip par nahi. Museum mein jaana zaroori hai kya?"
"Jee haan." She narrowed her eyes at him. "Is museum mein jaana bahot zaroori hai. Aap ek baar bol rahe the na, 'mere liye Goa ke neeche sab south hai? Sab idli khaate hai, sirf chutney badalti hai?'"
Raman nodded sheepishly, as he recalled his words from one of their earlier fights.
"That's why you have to visit this museum. It showcases the distinct culture of all the different South Indian states... Tamil Nadu, Andhra Pradesh, Karnataka, Kerala..."
Time, mystical time
Cuttin' me open, then healin' me fine
Were there clues I didn't see?
"Rickshaw!" Raman yelled abruptly, halting Ishita's monologue before it turned into a lecture. He may not have a choice in visiting the museum, but that didn't mean he had to listen about it before hand.
They had arrived at the street outside the gate, and Raman yelled for a rickshaw again before one stopped before them.
"Kahan jaana hai sir?" the driver asked.
"Bataayiye madam." Raman gestured towards Ishita before climbing in.
"Aapko pata hai 'Chennai Food Palace' kahan hai? Downtown central ke paas?" she asked.
"Jee madam."
The rickshaw driver nodded and reset the meter as Ishita climbed in beside her husband. The rickshaw jerked forward and they headed to their destination, occasionally bouncing from the bumps and potholes in the way.
"So, as I was saying, about the heritage of South India-"
"Madrasan!" Raman stopped his wife before she could continue. "Look, why don't you save this lecture for when we actually get to the museum? Tab tak thodi shaanti se baith. Kitna bolti hai yaar?"
"Agar chup-chaap rehne wali biwi chaahiye thi toh kisi TV serial se pakadte le aate? Mujhse shaadi kyun ki?"
"Mere paas choice thodi thi? Ab jo hona tha... so ho gaya..." he sighed and leaned back, feigning regret.
Ishita smirked, recognizing her husband's playful mood. "Baat toh sahi hai. Humein toh kismat ne saath mein baandh diya. Warna hum dono ne ek doosre ko kabhi pasand hi nahi kiya..."
"Kabhi bhi pasand nahi kiya?" Raman raised a suspicious eyebrow.
Ishita nodded.
His expression faltered momentarily, and she leaned in closer to whisper in his ear, "Humaari mohabbat ke liye 'pasand' bahot chota shabd hai, Raman. Words can't describe how head over heels for you I am."
And isn't it just so pretty to think
All along there was some
Invisible string
Tying you to me?
.....................................................................................................................
Shri Ashtalakshmi Temple, Chennai – two days later, Wednesday, 5 pm
Ishita adjusted her dupatta around her shoulders, draping it across her chest, as she climbed the steps of the temple. Raman followed her up the stairs after removing his shoes, dressed in casual trousers and a polo t-shirt. This temple dedicated to the eight forms of Mata Lakshmi was the last site on Ishita's list that she wanted to show Raman.
They arrived in the main sanctum sanctorum on the second level and folded their hands in front of the idol of Lord Vishnu and Mata Lakshmi. Since it was a weekday, the temple was minimally crowded, allowing them to approach the front easily. Standing side by side, they closed their eyes and bowed their heads.
Ishita had been here a few times before moving to Delhi. She had prayed for a smooth wedding with Subbu. She had asked for strength to be able to please Devyani. She had even cried after her broken nuptials, angry at the gods for not letting anything work in her favor.
A string that pulled me
Out of all the wrong arms right into that dive bar
Something wrapped all of my past mistakes in barbed wire
She had the sudden urge to boink herself on the back of the head for her foolishness. Instead, she lowered her head as she prayed.
Hey Bhagwaan, aapki leela aparampaar hai. Aapne aaj meri zindagi mein itni khushiyaan bhar di hai, ki ab aapse kuch bhi maangna baaki nahi raha. Bas itna hi maang sakti hoon ke aap Raman, Adi, Ruhi, aur mere pure parivaar ko khush rakhna. Sab par apni kripa banaaye rakhna, prabhu.
Raman sneaked a covert glance at his wife before facing the idol. Out of his entire family, he was probably the least religious, which was saying something. There was a time in his life when he had lost all faith in prayer and hope. When his demons had roared to life, leaving him to brave the elements alone. But not anymore.
Hey Maata Rani, Hey Naarayan, mujhe Ishita jaisa jeevansathi dene ke liye aapko jitna dhanyawaad karu utna kam hai. Aur kuch waqt ke liye, aap par se jo vishwaas uth gaya tha, uske liye jitna maafi maangu utna bhi kam hai. Aaj samajh aa raha hai ki jeevan mein jo hua woh kyun hua. Bas itni kripa karna ki ab mere parivaar par koi aanch na aaye.
Chains around my demons, wool to brave the seasons
One single thread of gold tied me to you
After one last bow to the idol, they lifted their heads and lowered their hands. The priest came forward and placed in their right palm a handful of almonds, cashews, pistachios, and crystallized sugar lumps as prasad (holy offering).
"Make sure you visit the rest of the levels of the temple," the priest suggested. "The eight forms of Maata Lakshmi and ten incarnations Lord Naraayan are in separate sanctums."
"Sure panditji." Ishita and Raman reverentially ate the prasad before nodding and leaving the sanctum.
As suggested, they headed to the other levels to pay their respects to the rest of the idols. As they walked throughout the temple between each level, Raman gazed at the architecture, marveling the fine handiwork and bright colors.
"Wow madrasan, I finally get why your Amma is so proud of South Indian culture. This architecture is just... breathtaking," he sighed.
"I know, right?" She joined him in his awe of the temple. "As kids, Amma made sure to bring us to one of the city's temples every week. Even if it was a local one. Sometimes she had to drag Mihika out of the house, but she brought us nonetheless. I think that's why I'm so religious today."
Cold was the steel of my axe to grind
For the boys who broke my heart
Now I send their babies presents
The final idol was in the topmost shrine at the fourth level. The footfall there – and therefore noise – was lower than that in the main sanctum, allowing them to pay their respects in peace. After a final bow to Mata Dhanalakshmi, Raman recommenced his surveyal of the intricate architecture. Amidst his surveillance, he heard distant ocean waves echo inside the temple complex.
"Do you hear that Ishita?" he asked, as he heard his wife approach.
"The ocean?"
Raman nodded.
"Yeah. Sometimes Appa used to bribe us with visits to the beach to get us to come to the temple," she chuckled. "Do you want to go there now? I think Elliot beach is closeby."
"Not right now. It's getting dark out. Let's go tomorrow. We can spend the entire day there. Abhi kuch dinner ka bandobast karte hai."
"All right then. If I remember correctly, I think there's a nice restaurant not far from here."
They exited the shrine and descended the steps.
"What's the menu like at this restaurant?" Raman asked, as he put on his shoes, a spark of hope flickering in his eyes.
Ishita smiled. "Don't worry. Punjabi, Madrasi, veg, non-veg, sab kuch hai menu par. Aap pet bhar ke chicken aur mutton kha sakte ho."
She adjusted the strap of her sandal and fixed her dupatta that had slid off her shoulder.
"Oh thank god...!" Raman sighed with relief.
Gold was the color of the leaves
When I showed you around Centennial Park
Hell was the journey but it brought me heaven
They called a rickshaw and set off, as Ishita gave directions as best she could. The maps and roads of Chennai were fading from her memory, and she was grateful that the rickshaw driver knew the street where they were heading towards. They arrived at their destination in twenty minutes.
Once they entered the restaurant, they were seated at a corner table in less than ten minutes. Their orders arrived just as quickly, thanks to the thin crowd: Raman's chicken biryani, mutton curry, and tandoori roti, and Ishita's veg kothu parotta, and kadala curry accompanied with cucumber raita.
The aroma of spices diffused through the air, and instrumental ballads resonated through the walls. The evening passed by in good spirits as Ishita and Raman savored their dinner.
Time, wondrous time
Gave me the blues and then purple pink skies
And it's cool, baby, with me
And isn't it just so pretty to think
All along there was some
Invisible string
Tying you to me?
https://youtu.be/OuFnpmGwg5k
.....................................................................................................................
Elliot Beach – next day, Thursday, 11 am
"Harder, Raman."
"No. Any more pressure and it'll hurt you."
"I don't care. I need this life jacket to be as tight as possible."
"Madrasan, every single strap is buckled and double tied. You'll be fine. If I tighten the binds any more, you'll have trouble breathing."
Raman checked the belts on the back of Ishita's red life jacket one last time before she turned around, fiddling with the straps. He swatted her hands away and gripped her shoulders.
"Why are you so nervous? Tumko adventure se dar kab se lagne laga?" he asked.
Ishita shrugged his hands off her and pouted. "Samandar ke beech mein adventure karne se koi bhi normal insaan daregaa. Aap pata nahi kis grah ke hai. Yahin sab cheezein bucket list mein daalne ki zaroorat thi aapko?"
Raman chuckled at his wife. She looked absolutely delectable in black tights and a blue swim shirt, an adorable pout on her lips. She had been this irritated since their arrival at the beach, when he had dropped the bombshell. While she had been expecting a relaxing day at the shore amongst crashing waves, her husband had gone off and signed them up for his choice of adventure water sports. So now, they were standing at the dock, putting on life jackets, waiting for their turn on the jetski.
"It'll be fine Ishita. We've taken all the necessary precautions," he assured her. "And I've even taken a boat safety course before."
"Yeh lijiye sir." The boat attendant beckoned them forward as a jet ski became available. "Aa jayiye aap log. Waise hi chadhna hai jaise scooter ya bike par chadhte hai."
Raman stepped forward and swung his leg over the neon seat. His grey swim trunks rode up his knees as he adjusted his position on the seat, and his muscles rippled beneath his white sports tank top and red life jacket as he gripped the handles.
"Aaja madrasan, kuch nahi hoga!" he called out, once he was comfortable on the jet ski.
Ishita blew out a rough breath before stepping off the dock and sitting behind her husband. She adjusted her stance behind him before bringing her arms around his waist and pressing her chin into his shoulder, holding tight.
"You ready?" Raman asked over his shoulder.
"I'll never be ready for this..." she breathed. "Raman, I swear to god, if I die in the middle of the ocean, I will haunt you for the rest of your life."
The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. It was a joke, but even the thought of her dying turned his blood to ice. He shook his head to rid himself of such rubbish thoughts.
"Oh really? Matlab marne ke baad bhi peecha nahi chodogi?" he chuckled, hiding the quiver in his voice.
"Bilkul nahi. Bhoot bankar aapke peeche padi rahungi."
"Abhi bhi kisi bhoot se kam thodi ho..."
Ishita nudged him in the back with her chin as he twisted the handles of the jet ski and turned on the engine.
"Ready to go?!" Raman asked.
"As ready as I'll ever be."
"Hold on!"
Ishita's arms around his waist tightened and they set off. Their jet ski zipped through the water, creating white waves and leaving a line of sea foam behind them. Salt air whipped through their hair, rippling their clothes, and seagulls echoed overhead.
Raman reveled in the cool salty wind and the feel of his wife's arms around his waist. If there was heaven on earth, this had to be it.
Ishita pressed closer to her husband, even as she lifted her head to enjoy the sea breeze and cool splashes of water against her legs.
After ten minutes in heaven, they had to regretfully return to the dock. They climbed off the jet ski and almost jogged from the dock, adrenaline still pumping in their veins.
"Oh my god..." Ishita panted. "That was amazing!"
"Dekha! Kahan tha na maine mazaa aayega!" Raman beamed.
"What's next on the list?"
The next couple hours were spent on various water sports: parasailing, kayaking, and even simple freestyle swimming. It wasn't until past two pm that they emerged from the water, famished and exhausted. After taking a minute to wash up and dry their clothes, they found a street-side stall by the far end of the beach to satisfy their hunger.
"What is this?" Raman asked, peering curiously at the banana leaf in his hand. It held a white noodle-like substance with dollops of white, red, and green chutney on the side.
"That is idiyappam. It's a version of South Indian seviyaan, but salty," Ishita explained. "And here I have murrukku sandwich." She showed her own banana leaf with stacks of murrukku covered in chutney, cucumber slices, and tomato pieces. "It's a very popular street food here."
They walked along the shore, eating from their own and the other's plate (or leaf rather). Sand crunched beneath their toes and sea waves washed over their feet.
"Raman, what else is on your bucket list? Besides adventure sports?" Ishita initiated a conversation.
"I haven't really made a list." Raman took of bite of murrukku. "I want to go skiing in Europe somewhere. Maybe the Swiss Alps? I love snow... Our next trip should be somewhere out of India. We'll take Ruhi and Adi with us too."
"That sounds great." Ishita dipped a piece of idiyappam in chutney and chewed.
"And the next beach we visit should be somewhere in the Pacific, where we can go snorkeling or scuba-diving with aquatic life. Like Indonesia or Hawaii," he mused. "What about you? You must have a bucket list too, right?"
Ishita threw their empty banana leaves in a nearby trash can as they continued walking.
"I don't have a list per se..." she began. "But there are a couple wishes I've had. That I haven't told anyone else."
"Oh I'm intrigued now." Raman slung his arm over her shoulder and trained his eyes on her. "Spill madrasan."
Ishita sighed and pressed her lips together to avoid smiling. "Well for one thing... I want a tattoo one day."
Raman's eyebrows shot up.
"Not anything big or scandalous of course," she was quick to add. "Maybe a nice quote on my wrist or a heart on my ankle. I'm not sure."
"What else?"
"I um... I've always wanted to visit a night club one day," she revealed. "All my friends have been to one but Amma would never have allowed us. And I don't think I would've had the courage to go either. Have you ever been in one?"
"Yeah I have. Maa wouldn't have let me either, but I went with a few friends once for a party. We even held Neil's bachelor party at a bar."
The stretch of sand beneath their feet began morphing into a rocky terrain with waves splashing against the boulders. They ended their walk and sat down in the sand, toes touching the water.
"How did that go over with Trisha?" Ishita asked, stretching her legs out in front of her.
"Not well," Raman chuckled. "I heard she almost didn't show up for the sangeet."
"You heard?" Her eyebrows scrunched up in confusion.
"Yeah... I um... I didn't attend all the functions. I made a quick appearance for the actual wedding, but nothing else. The bachelor party was the only one I stayed for because... alcohol," he sighed ruefully.
He dropped his head and shoulders into his wife's lap, twisting his body to lie down and look up at her. Ishita combed her fingers through his soft hair and ran her nails across his scalp, and he sighed in pleasure.
Their conversation continued until the brightness of the sun softened and dusk approached. The ocean waves turned stronger as the sun set, inching up to Ishita's knees instead of toes.
"...and then mummy freaked out, you know?" Raman said as he detailed one of his old memories. "It was Adi's first Holi, and she found him putting color in his mouth instead of people's faces. She got so mad on Shagun that day. Thank god the colors were organic and harmless."
Ishita laughed at the image forming in her head, the mention of Shagun no longer bothering her.
"I remember Ruhi's first Holi with me," she added. "Usne Shravu ke saath pura ghar sar par utha liya tha. Kabhi Shravu uske hair pull karta tha toh kabhi Ruhi us par pichkaari se paani daalti thi. Din khatam hote hote mera aur akka ka sar bhaari ho gaya tha."
Raman chuckled aloud. Just then, a particularly strong wave washed up the shore, going past Ishita's knees and up her thighs. Unfortunately, that meant water splashed onto Raman's face who was lying in her lap. His laugh stopped abruptly as he spluttered and coughed from the force of salt water entering his nose and throat.
He sat up and coughed violently, struggling to breathe. On the other hand, Ishita struggled to contain her giggles at the sight.
"Are you laughing at me?!" Raman gasped, running a palm down his wet face.
"Sorry... sorry Raman... I just couldn't..." she managed to say between bouts of laughter.
"Oh you'll regret this."
Before Ishita could process his threat, a startled yelp flew out of her as she found herself hauled over his shoulder.
"Raman! What are you doing?!" she shrieked, as he walked into the sea.
She received her answer when he dropped her into the water, causing her to cough and splutter and him to laugh. Before he could relish the exchange of power however, he felt a jerk on his arm as Ishita pulled him down into the water.
They splashed around in water until the sun disappeared and the water turned chilly. As night fell, they returned to their hotel to shower and have dinner.
"I'll go shower first okay?" Ishita said as she locked the door of their hotel room.
"Absolutely not. By the time you finish, I'll freeze to death," Raman replied.
The goosebumps on Ishita's skin multiplied at her husband mentioning his death. He didn't even mean it literally, but still... terror crawled beneath her skin.
"I'll be quick, I promise," she insisted, shaking her goosebumps away.
Raman turned up the temperature dial and peeled his shirt off.
"Actually, I have a better idea," he said in a low, husky voice.
Before she could see the smirk in his eye, she found herself pulled into the bathroom. The lock clicked shut, warm water sprayed from the showerhead, and that was all she wrote.
.....................................................................................................................
Meanwhile @ The Labor and Delivery Ward in Delhi City Hospital – 9 pm
"Come on Vandu, let's go home for now."
"No Bala. I'm not leaving."
Bala chewed his lip and the labor nurse sighed as Vandu refused to leave the bed. Dealing with pregnant women was never easy, but this one was more difficult than expected.
"Vandita ji, your water hasn't broken yet," the nurse explained again. "Your baby isn't coming today either. Just like it wasn't coming yesterday."
"But today, I'm actually in labor. It's not Braxton Hicks like yesterday," Vandu argued.
"But your water hasn't broken yet," the nurse repeated.
"Vandu, they need this room for other laboring moms," Bala tried to explain.
"I am in labor!" Vandu shrieked. "It's early labor, but still! We live on the other side of town, Bala. We're not going home only to drive back in the middle of the night after my water breaks!"
Bala couldn't argue. He himself didn't want to leave the hospital at this late hour. The fact that it was Vandu's second pregnancy meant that labor would progress quickly. Chances were, they would have to come back as soon as they reached home.
"Vandita ji-"
"I'm won't listen to anything from you!" Vandu stopped the nurse from repeating her memorized jargon. "Go get the OB/GYN! I'm not leaving until the doctor tells me to!"
Unable to go against the force of nature that Vandu was, the nurse scampered out of the room. Vandu's face screwed up in anger and discomfort as another contraction began.
"Ooofff..." she groaned.
In the next minute, Bala was at her side. "Are the contractions too painful?" he asked.
"Not yet. They're just uncomfortable."
"Come here, let's practice our breathing exercises."
She leaned forward and Bala rubbed her back, both of them breathing in and out rhythmically. The contraction passed and she slumped back, sweat beading on her brow.
"I'm so proud of you Vandu," Bala said, wiping her forehead with a towel. "I'm right here, all right? If you need anything, just say the word."
Despite the discomfort and pain shooting through her belly, Vandu smiled. "You're too sweet Bala," she sighed.
The door of the private suite opened and the nurse returned with the OB.
"Hi Vandita." The doctor slung his stethoscope around his neck. "How's it going?"
"Doctor, I'm not leaving until I have my baby." She dragged her feet to the floor and stood up. "I've been sent back twice because of false labor. I'm not going back again."
"But Vandita-"
"I swear to god, if you say anything about my water not breaking, I will rip your head off," she growled.
The doctor struggled to hold back a laugh. He was all too familiar with the wrath of laboring moms. "Vandita," he continued with professional patience. "I'm trying to say your water just broke. Look."
Vandu looked down and gasped. In her annoyance, she hadn't realized that amniotic fluid had been leaking down her legs.
"It's time now. Get ready mommy," the doctor beamed.
.....................................................................................................................
A few hours later, midnight
Vandu spread her legs and bounced on the birthing ball, as Bala rubbed her back and fed her ice chips. The doctor stood up from between her legs after finishing his exam and peeled off his medical gloves.
"You're almost halfway there, Vandita," he said as he discarded his gloves in the trash. "Four and a half centimeters dilated."
"Does that mean I can have an epidural now?" she asked.
"Yes, I'll send the anethesiologist ASAP." He scribbled a note in her chart before walking out. "You're doing good, mom. Keep it up!"
Another contraction tore through her, and she squeezed Bala's hand. He could almost hear his knuckles crack.
"Is the pain getting worse?" Bala asked, lines of concern appearing on his forehead.
Vandu bit her lip and nodded painfully. "Distract me. When is Amma getting here?"
"I called Amma about an hour ago. She and Appa were in Noida for a function, but they left as soon as I called. They should be here in half an hour tops."
"I see.... Ooouuch... What about Shravu?"
"He's staying with Ruhi and Adi at the Bhalla House."
"Three kids in one house? Without Raman and Ishu there?"
"Don't worry. Mihir and Mihika are there to help out. They'll even stay for the weekend if need be."
A knock echoed through the door before it sprung open. The anesthesiologist walked in.
"I hear someone needs an epidural huh?" he drawled.
"Oh thank god you're here..." Vandu sighed.
As soon as the epidural was administered, a wave of relief washed over her.
"Thank you Murugan..." she sighed.
.....................................................................................................................
A few more hours later, dawn
"It's time Vandita. Come on. Push!" the doctor urged.
Vandu groaned as she pushed with all her might. Her mother gripped her hand beside her, soothing her with encouraging words.
"Yes kanna... You can do it..." Madhu coaxed.
Outside the delivery room, Bala paced back and forth, anxiety crawling up throat. Madhu had insisted she accompany Vandu during her delivery, and being the obedient son-in-law that he was, he had obliged hoping his wife would be comfortable with her mother. But as the seconds ticked by and Vandu's cries of pain reached his ears, his own panic increased.
"Don't worry Bala. Sab kuch thik hoga," Vishwa assured. "Tum bhagwaan par bharosa rakho."
An excrutiatingly long wait later, the cries of a newborn echoed around the halls and Bala's head shot up in joy. The door creaked open and Madhu arrived with a wide smile on her face.
"Aiyyo beti hui hai!" she squealed with joy.
The tension lifted from the air, as Vandu, Bala, Madhu, and Vishwa were on cloud nine.
Bala and Vishwa entered the room once Vandu was cleaned and ready, a tiny pink bundle of joy in her arms. Bala approached his wife, awe etched on his face. He had been through this before but the miracle of life was still just as mesmerizing. Vandu tore her loving gaze away from her daughter and looked to her husband.
"Here. Hold her," she offered.
Bala nodded and gently held his baby, a brick of emotion jamming his throat. "Hi baby," he managed to say. "Welcome to the family. Thank you for choosing me as your Appa." His gaze traveled from his newborn girl to his wife. "Thank you Vandu. Thank you so much," he whispered.
.....................................................................................................................
Sunstar Hotel, Chennai – next day, Saturday, September 8th, 9 pm
"Congratulations Akka!" Ishita exclaimed into her phone. "Aap kaise ho? Baby kaisi hai?"
"Hum dono bilkul thik hai, Ishu." Vandu's voice resonated from the phone on speaker mode. "Bas tum dono ko inform karne ke liye phone kiya tha."
"I feel so bad akka... Aap ki delivery ho gayi aur main nahi thi wahan par."
"Aisa mat soch Ishu. Waise bhi yahan hospital mein zyada log allowed nahi hai. Amma, Appa, aur Shravu ke sivaa koi nahi aaya hai. Hum do-teen din mein ghar pahoch jaayenge, phir tum milne aana. Tab tak toh tum dono bhi waapis aa jaaoge na?"
"Haan, hum log kal waapis aa rahe hai. Aap acche se rest karo, thik hai?"
"Thik hai."
"Waise Vandu," Raman chimed in. "Tum log delivery ke baad waapis apne ghar jaaoge kya? Will you and Bala be okay handling the baby and Shravu alone?"
"Actually hum log hospital se Amma ke ghar jaayenge. Kuch din tak wahin rahenge. Aise unki help bhi rahegi, aur zyada madad chahiye hogi toh Ishu ya Miku ko bula lungi."
"Chalo thik hai. Yeh accha socha tumne."
"Okay, toh main phone rakhti hoon. Bas tum dono ko khushkhabari dene ke liye phone kiya tha. Enjoy the rest of your honeymoon, okay?"
"We will, akka," Ishita said. "You take care of yourself and the baby, okay?"
"Congratulations once again, Vandu!" Raman said, before the call hung up.
Ishita set her phone inside her clutch purse and snapped it shut. They had received the good news of their niece's birth on the family group chat this morning and had been waiting for an opportunity to call and congratulate the happy parents.
Now that that was out of the way, they had one last outing of their honeymoon left. This time, they were crossing something off Ishita's bucket list.
"I'll just go change, okay?" she said. "Then we can leave."
Raman nodded at her. Fifteen minutes later, she emerged from the bathroom with fresh makeup and a new dress, her torso covered with a thick shawl.
"Are you wearing this shawl?" Raman asked. "I thought you bought a dress this morning."
"I did. I'm just wearing this shawl over the dress until we get there," she clarified.
As they walked out of their room and headed to the lobby, Ishita asked a question that had been bothering her ever since she bought the dress.
"Raman, are you sure you're okay with me wearing this?" she whispered. "I mean... there's going to be a bit of skin show once I take the shawl off."
Raman turned his head towards her. "The real question is, are you okay with it? It all depends on your comfort level."
"I'm fine actually. I mean, the family isn't here. It's just you, right? So it's okay. And the dress fits me very well. I'm just surprised you're okay with it."
She recalled his show of possessiveness when she had seen her smiling at Subbu. When she had joked about other men finding her attractive.
"I'm totally fine with it," he chuckled. "Mujhe bhi logo ko dikhana hai ki meri biwi kitni hot hai."
Her mouth fell open in a shy grin.
"Aur waise bhi," he continued. "Agar kisi kameene ne koi ulti-seedhi harkat ki, toh main hoon na? Uski haddiyaan tod dunga."
Her grin transformed into a laugh.
They exited the lobby and headed to their destination.
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Dazzle Disco Nightclub, Chennai – 9:30 pm
"One old-fashioned please." Raman ordered a drink at the bar and sat down on a stool, adjusting his cufflinks on his checkered button-up shirt.
The nightclub was lively and upbeat. The latest pop songs reverberated through the club, and the growing weekend crowd danced on the neon-lighted dance floor.
"Here's your old-fashioned sir." The bartender slid his drink across the bar which Raman caught in one fluid movement. He sipped on the whiskey cocktail, eyes traveling across the club, taking in the scene.
A pair of heels clicked to his left and his head turned at the sound. When his eyes focused on the figure who had approached, his sight tunneled and the world went momentarily soundless. The woman in front of him was a vision to behold.
See you in the dark
All eyes on you, my magician
All eyes on us
The woman was clad in a knee-length cowl neck dress with a deep v-cut neckline and spaghetti straps at her shoulders. Her jet black hair flowed down her back, and rose gold sequins sparkled all over her dress, magnified by the lights shining on her. But none of the light reflecting off her glittery dress could compete with the sparkle in her eyes.
"One cherry mojito mocktail," she said to the bartender. "Non-alcoholic please."
Raman sighed. Her voice was a bewitching siren song, one that could lure sailors to their doom.
"Here you go miss." The bartender handed her a glass of red mocktail before turning to the other customers.
Raman saw the woman take a tiny sip, her parting lips just as red as the cherries in her drink. She sighed in pleasure as she drank, and a silent moan erupted deep in his throat. He had barely laid his eyes on her for a minute, and she was already his undoing.
You make everyone disappear, and
Cut me into pieces
His heart raced as the goddess turned towards him, catching him staring at her out of the corner of her eye. He made no effort to look away however, choosing to sip his drink without breaking eye contact. A tiny smile crept up her lips which she subtly wiped off under the guise of taking of sip of her mocktail.
Raman slipped off his stool and swirled his drink, as he walked towards her, drawn to her like a moth to a flame. But before he could approach her, she turned around, sauntering off to a table at the other end of the club. As disheartened as he was, he was also determined. Determined to make her his.
Gold cage, hostage to my feelings
Back against the wall
Trippin', trip-trippin' when you're gone
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Ishita slid onto a metal chair at the far end of the club, crossing one leg over the other. Her drink was refreshing, a perfect mix of cherries, lime, and mint. She took another sip, while tapping her foot with the rhythm of the music. Even so, her mind remained fixed on the man she had seen at the bar.
She closed her eyes, recalling his suave form that had been imprinted behind her eyelids. He sat lazily at the bar, leaning on the counter with his elbow, his feet crossed at the ankle. An air of masculine charm and pride oozed from him, bordering on smugness, making him infinitely more attractive.
He was defined by sharp clean lines, dressed in a crisp checkered shirt and bold black pants. But none of his debonair personality or attire could match with the intensity in his eyes. She had only managed to see them out of the corner of her eye, and the fleeting moment of eye contact had heat igniting in her being.
'Cause we breakdown a little
But when you get me alone, it's so simple
'Cause baby, I know what you know
We can feel it
She took a deep breath before opening her eyes, only to be taken aback at the same man approaching her table.
"Is this seat taken?" he asked, pointing to the empty chair across her. His husky voice sent shivers down her spine.
"No, it's not," she replied.
He swiped the chair out and sat down smoothly, leaning back and swirling his drink.
"I didn't say you could sit here," Ishita pointed out. "What if I have friends joining me?"
"What you rather I leave?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
It was on the tip of her tongue to say no, but her pride stood in the way. She couldn't come across as desperate. Rather than answer his question, she brought her glass to her lips and averted her eyes. Even so, she caught the smirk that appeared on his lips.
"I'm Raman Bhalla," he said without any prompting. "Just in case you need a name to write about the love of your life in your diary at night."
Ishita rolled her eyes. "Bold of you to assume I haven't already found the love of my life."
"I know you have. It's me."
And all the pieces fall
Right into place
Getting caught up in a moment
Lipstick on your face
"I'm Ishita then," she answered. "In case you need a name for the woman that haunts you in your dreams."
"Duly noted."
"I haven't seen you in this city before, Raman," she said. "What brings you here?"
"I'm looking for an answer to a mystery."
"What's that?"
"A crime has been committed. And I've heard that going back to the scene where the crime began helps to solve it."
"Would you care to share it with me? I know this city inside out. I could help you."
"Actually, I need to share it with you. You're the only one who can help me out."
He inched his hand forward and trailed his fingers over her knuckles, pleased to see goosebumps erupting up her arms.
So it goes
I'm yours to keep
And I'm yours to lose
"Would you be able to help me out?" he asked.
Ishita raised an eyebrow in thought, as she sucked on a cherry from her drink. She swirled her tongue around it before drawing it into her mouth and chewing. The brief action elicited a low hiss from between Raman's teeth, and she smiled in satisfaction.
"Before I decide that, what can you give me in return?" she negotiated after swallowing.
"Anything you want," he smiled. "Just name it."
"Dance with me."
Raman's eyebrows shot up in pleasant surprise. No woman had ever been that direct with him.
"Why dance?" he asked.
"Well... you know what they say about men who can dance..." Ishita leaned forward and whispered in his ear, "They make the best lovers."
You know I'm not a bad girl
But I do bad things with you
So it goes
Before his eyes popped out of their sockets, she grasped his hand and pulled him up, dragging him to the dance floor. The music changed from an upbeat pop number to a slow sensual ballad just in time for her to grip his shoulders and for him to snake his hands around her waist. They swayed to the music, eyes locked and movements in sync.
The music changed and songs played but their attention was locked on each other. It could've minutes or hours when Raman asked, "So... what's the verdict?"
"About?" Ishita asked.
"My dancing skills."
The corners of her lips crept upwards. "Not bad I suppose... Rhythm, check. Stamina, check. Confidence, check." She lowered her voice before continued. "Passion, check."
"Does that mean you'll help me."
"Yes, it does. What is this crime you're trying to solve?"
He pulled her closer by the waist until her soft feminine curves were lined up with his hard masculine planes. He tucked her hair behind her ear and whispered close, his breath fanning her face.
"My heart has been stolen. And I believe you're the culprit."
I make all your gray days clear and
Wear you like a necklace
A wide grin appeared on her lips and a rose blush crept up her cheeks. "Well then... what can I do for you in that case?" she gulped.
"Since you've stolen my heart, I think it's only fair that I get yours. What do you think?" He wiggled his eyebrows.
"But I don't know anything about you. How can I give you my heart just like that?"
"You know I'm a great dancer, right?"
Ishita nodded.
"And you know what they say about men who can dance, right?" He grazed his thumb against the dip of her spine over her dress. "They make the best lovers."
She sucked in a sharp breath when he repeated her earlier words back to her. He had her heart, her soul, her everything. But she wasn't ready to end this game so soon.
"They also say never to trust a man who can dance, Mr. Bhalla. Because that means they've been with more than one woman," she retorted. "How do I know you'll stay loyal to me?"
I'm so chill, but you make me jealous
But I got your heart
Skippin', skip-skippin' when I'm gone
He twirled her around until her back lined up with his chest, his arms caging her like steel bands. He swiped her hair over one shoulder and rested his chin on the other.
"There's no other woman, Ishita. I promise," he said, even as they swayed to the music. "It's only you. It's always been you."
"Prove it."
"No other woman but you can get my heart racing. No other woman but you can capture my mind. No other woman but you can ensnare my senses." He turned her around and held her flush against his chest until their breath intermingled. "I don't care if there's a prettier or younger woman out there. Because she'll never be you."
She lifted her eyebrows, peering into his eyes with all the love in her heart. His eyes that were a window into his soul. His soul that was full of love and loyalty and devotion.
"So... can I have your heart?" he asked again.
Ishita locked her hands behind his neck. "Yes. My heart is yours, Raman. I love you."
"I love you too Ishita. I love you too..."
Their foreheads touched and and eyes locked. Raman carressed her cheek lightly and Ishita smiled, their hearts inundated with love.
Come here, dressed in black now
So, so, so it goes
Scratches down your back now
So, so, so it goes
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Meanwhile @ Luxury Heights, Chennai – 9:30 pm
Ragini reread the message from her father for nth time, drawing strength and courage from the single constant pillar of support from her life.
Take whatever decision you feel is best for yourself, beta. I will be here to support you.
No matter what part of the world you live in, always know that your father's doors are open for you. At anytime.
She took a deep shaky breath. Today was the day. She had to take the brave step. If not for herself, then for her son.
She looked up as she heard soft footsteps approach the sofa. Her darling toddler son waddled forward with unsteady steps. He faltered at the last step and his mother swiftly caught him, lifting him into her lap.
"Amma," he babbled. "Teddy." He waved the pink teddy bear in his hand, excitedly shoving it in her face.
"Bahot pyaara teddy hai, Varun," she cooed. "Jao... aap khelo."
Ragini lifted him off her lap and deposited him in the play corner they had built for him. It was full of race cars and monster trucks and dinosaurs. But his hands were full of the pink teddy bear and his cousin's borrowed Barbie doll.
Ragini sighed and returned to the couch. Her vantage point allowed her to keep an eye on her son while also wait for the door to open for when Subbu returned home. Today was going to be a tough day. But she had no other choice.
The door clicked open at the next minute and Subbu walked in. He slumped down in the armchair and Ragini stood up, her routine perfected after almost two years of marriage. She filled a glass of water and handed it to him, which he gulped down and handed back.
"Dinner karna hai?" she asked, short and succint, as she placed the empty glass in the kitchen sink.
"Nahin. Doston ke saath dinner kar liya," he replied.
Ragini sighed in frustration. "You could've told me. At least sent a message."
"Why?"
"Varun was being extra fussy today. God only knows how I managed to make dinner with him clinging to me. If you would've told me, I could've saved myself the trouble of cooking."
Subbu's head turned towards her abruptly. "How much trouble could it be to cook one meal, Ragini? Don't me dramatic. And where is Amma? She could've looked after Varun."
"She's gone to her sister's place for the day." Thank god, Ragini thought. Otherwise she would never be able to broach this subject with her husband.
Speaking of which, it was high time she ripped off the band-aid. She took in a deep breath and walked back to the living room, resuming her place on the sofa.
"Subbu, we need to talk." She kept her voice as stern as possible.
"Hmm... bolo," he said, scrolling through his phone.
"Just put your phone away and look at me for once!" she hissed.
The tone of her voice surprised Subbu. He pocketed his phone and nodded at her. "Bolo."
"I'm going back to my appa's house. And I'm taking Varun with me," she declared.
"Excuse me?!"
"You heard me. I'm leaving."
"For how long?"
"Forever."
His eyes widened in shock. "What?! Why?!" he yelled, shooting up from the armchair.
Ragini's heart thudded in anxiety. It's okay, Ragini. This is what you have to do. Be strong.
She stood up and faced her husband, stubborn and unwavering. "I just can't take it anymore. This place... this house suffocates me. I just can't stay here. I can't stay married to you."
Subbu's eyebrows scrunched up in genuine confusion. This was all so sudden. He couldn't wrap his head around it.
"I don't get it."
She didn't know whether to laugh or cry at his obliviousness. "Subbu, I used to be one of the top up and coming engineers at my firm. I had a voice of my own, an identity of my own. Ever since I got married to you, I lost myself. I can't live like this anymore."
"Are you serious? This is because you can't work? I thought your priority was taking care of Varun. We decided you can start working once he starts school."
"No Subbu! We never decided that." She pointed between herself and him. "You and your mother decided it and simply told me. Do you even know how it's been taking care of a baby on my own? When Amma is harping at me for not having done the dishes or not making prasad right? How do you think I've been dealing with this without any help from you?"
"You think I don't help?!" he yelled. "I earn all the money that we live off of. This flat, all this money... I break my back at the clinic for this!"
"Don't act like I should be indebted to you for that! I've already told you that I want to work too. I can help earn money and you can help with housework."
"Oh please... don't speak such rubbish?"
"Why? Why is the thought of me earning money and you working at home so unpalatable?"
Subbu shook his head in disappointment. "Listen Ragini, you can start working once Varun starts school. I've already allowed you to work before he was born-"
"And what makes you think you have the authority to allow me to do anything?" she interrupted him.
"Wh-Where is this coming from, Ragini...? W-What happened...?"
He gaped at her, speechless. The shock and hurt on his face was almost enough to undo her. Almost. Think of Varun, Ragini. Think of your son. He matters the most.
"Last weekend, when I went shopping with Varun, he picked out a pink teddy bear to play with. When I brought it home, your mother threw a fit because boys don't play with pink. Your relatives came over yesterday, and Varun wanted to play with his cousin sister's dolls. That's when your uncle spanked him for wanting to play with girls' toys. And when he cried because of it, you told him not to cry like a girl." She inhaled deeply, gathering strength to continue. "I can't raise him in an environment like this. I can't raise him in a house where his mother is constantly unhappy."
"What do you mean unhappy?" he asked quizzically.
"For god's sakes Subbu!" she cried, her hands flailing about in frustration. "Are you blind or what?! Did you not notice me struggling through postpartum depression after Varun was born? Did neither you nor your mother realize the toll it took on me to deal with a newborn baby, the entire house's responsibilities, and entertaining guests who came to meet the new daughter-in-law and baby?!" Tears were streaming down her face in earnest now.
"W-Why didn't you tell me?" Subbu asked shakily, reeling from shock.
"Every time I tried, you brushed me off. Every time I suggested living separately from Amma – even if temporarily – you looked at me like I was crazy. The only person who recognized my suffering was my father."
She recalled her visit to his father, when Varun was barely two months old. How he had recognized the pain behind her smile, the darkness behind her façade of joy, and the gray skies overpowering the sun and rainbows. It was a miracle that he had been able to convince Subbu to get her family doctor changed to someone with board certification in mental health. She couldn't even imagine where she would be today without his help. Thank you appa. Thank you so much.
"Do you really think this is the best for Varun?" Subbu spat at her. "You think it's okay to raise him without his father? You think he'll be better off with divorced parents?"
"Yes, I think so. You can definitely be a part of his life. You're his father, and I would never take that right away. But he can't grow up watching a bitter marriage between his parents. He can't grow up with a mother who's constantly unhappy."
Before he could reply, Ragini made a beeline for her son and lifted him into her arms. She stomped to the front door and it was only then that Subbu noticed the packed suitcase behind the ajar door.
"Wait! You're leaving right now?!" he shrieked.
"Yes." She dragged the suitcase with her free hand.
"No Ragini, please!" He stood in the front door, blocking her way, desperation clawing at his throat.
"I have to go, Subbu. Don't make this harder than it already is."
"I'll do anything. Counseling, couple's therapy, anything!"
A spark of hope lighted in her eyes. But she didn't know whether she could believe in it. "Maybe we can try that. But I can't stay here for one more minute. I'm sorry."
She pushed Subbu aside and walked out, her baby in one arm and her suitcase in the other. She knew for a fact the world would laugh at her, even insult her for this decision. After all, what legitimate reason did she have to leave her husband? He wasn't physically abusive. He wasn't having an affair. He wasn't unemployed or an alcoholic or a gambler.
But she knew in her heart that she was right. It was the right decision for herself and for her son. Ragini kissed her son's soft forehead, her heart strengthened with courage.
Meanwhile, Subbu slumped onto the sofa, eyes bloodshot and tearing up. His gaze fell upon the photo frame on the side table. He was posing with his newborn son in his hand, his wife by his side. It had all fallen apart. His trembling fingers dragged over the picture, his heart drowning in grief and regret.
You did a number on me
But honestly, baby, who's counting?
I did a number on you
But honestly, baby, who's counting?
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Unity Division Housing Society, Delhi – next day, Sunday, 6 am
Footsteps sounded on the floor above and the ceiling shook causing dust to fall onto the portable cot below. Cries and yells sounded upstairs and the added noise disturbed the sleeping figure on the cot.
"Ugghhh..." Ashok groaned, jerking awake. He sat up on the cot, back aching and joints hurting from sleeping in such a small, uncomfortable bed.
What had the great Ashok Khanna been reduced to? He was living off favors and scraps from the few friends who were still willing (and able) to help him. Currently, he was crashing in the underground basement of an old colleague. The room was tiny and bleak, devoid of any furniture except the cot he was sleeping on and a broken plastic chair on which his bag was sitting.
Ever since Sooraj had taken over his company, Ashok had been reduced to living off such favors. His brother may have never asked him to leave the mansion, but once his assets were seized, cards blocked, and funds frozen, living in that mansion was a wound to his pride. He had left in a huff, determined to get his property back, only to find out that he couldn't even afford a competent lawyer for a civil trial.
He rubbed his forehead, wincing at the throbbing headache as the noise amplified above him. Just then, the basement door burst open and a rush of light blinded him. A figure walked in. Ashok squinted to adjust to the light and recognized him as his friend, the owner of the house.
"Ashok yaar..." he began. "Look, I'm sorry to bring this on you so suddenly... and that too this early in the morning, but... you can't stay here anymore. I have four kids, a wife, and parents. They all live in this same house, and we just can't afford to take in anyone else."
Ashok gaped at his so-called friend.
"Please make sure to move out ASAP. Hopefully by the end of the day, okay?" He walked out as quickly as he had walked in before Ashok could react.
The door slammed shut and Ashok exploded. He roared at the top of his lungs and tore the bedsheet off the cot, throwing it against the broken chair. The action caused a magazine from the top of his bag to fall to the floor. If there was anything that could've angered him more, it was the page the magazine opened to.
Exclusive Interview: Raman Bhalla Enters Global Scene, Makes It Big in Japan
Ashok picked up the magazine and skimmed down the page. It was an interview of Raman and Mihir's as they discussed their venture in Tokyo. Ashok's rage grew with every word, but it was one paragraph that had him erupting like a volcano.
We asked Mihir Arora about his relationship with Raman Bhalla, whom he calls brother but shares no blood.
Interviewer: Mr. Arora, it's said that blood is thicker than water. How has your relationship with Mr. Bhalla endured through obstacles and strengthened into brotherhood?
Mihir Arora: There's a variation to that quote you said. The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb. Raman Bhai and I have been through heaven and hell together. A bond like that can't be broken easily. Our loyalty is bound for life.
Ashok growled and threw down the magazine. Raman Bhalla. God damn Raman Bhalla! That man had everything today. He had gone from rags to riches while Ashok was degraded from riches to rags. He had a brother that shared no blood with him but still pledged his undying loyalty. And Ashok had a brother who was his own flesh and blood but didn't care for him one bit.
Ever since the first day he had met Raman, Ashok had recognized the spark of talent he held. It threatened him to the core, and he had done everything in his power to break him. From giving him extra overtime to making him responsible for projects beyond his capability. Despite all his plans and plots however, Raman had managed to flourish through it, honing his talent. It wasn't until he laid eyes on Shagun that his plan worked. He had managed to steal Shagun from right under Raman's nose. It was his best exploit till date resulting in the most chaos in his enemy's life.
But in the long run, nothing had worked. Raman was successful today. And Ashok wasn't. His frustration peaked, and something in his mind snapped. He was triggered. He was done. He had vowed revenge against Raman a long time back. It was high time he acted on it.
He leaned down and dragged out a safe from beneath the cot. He unlocked the safe and removed a shiny metal glock with a wicked gleam in his eyes. Ashok surveyed the nine mm pistol, his heart darkening with revenge and hatred.
You did a number on me
But honestly, baby, who's counting?
Who's counting?
https://youtu.be/iAv1Y1YIwm8
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