Part 42
Bhalla House, Raman and Ishita’s bedroom - One week later, Monday March 3, 6 am
Ishita stirred in her sleep, stretching her limbs and loosening her joints. She turned over and was greeted with a sight she had yet to grow accustomed to. Her husband was sleeping on his stomach, legs sprawled out, with an arm around her waist. She gently removed his hand from around her waist and tiptoed out of bed.
They had been sleeping on the same bed for a month now. The sofa had long been fixed (thanks to Neelu’s over-enthusiasm), but Ishita never returned to the sofa, and neither did Raman ask her to. Neither were ready to forgo the conversations they indulged in every night or the cocoon of warmth they found themselves engulfed in every morning.
Some nights, they talked endlessly reminiscing childhood memories, whispering secrets they hadn’t told anyone else. Ishita revealed that she was almost named Matangi owing to her mother’s staunch belief in astrology, but thankfully her bua intervened at the last moment, demanding the right to name her niece. Raman had revealed that he had been very shy as a boy, so much so that he had struggled with a slight stammer and had blushed every time he made eye contact with a girl. It wasn’t until high school that he could talk confidently and even then, he hated being the center of attention.
Some nights, they discussed their plans for the future, what they hoped to see their kids accomplish, what they had in mind to keep their parents comfortable. Raman revealed Toshi's wish to go on a world tour at her and Omprakash's golden jubilee. Ishita mentioned her parents' desire to visit every temple of South India as a part of their yatra (religious tour).
Other nights, they didn’t talk, too exhausted from work or life, choosing to quietly go to bed. But every morning, they found themselves close to each other, some form of physical contact connecting them to their safe haven, their sanctuary. Her head resting on his shoulder; his arm around her waist; or a leg intertwined with another. Even on the nights when they didn’t fall asleep in each other’s arms, they unconsciously found each other in their sleep, seeking comfort and warmth.
Ishita gathered her towel and sari for the day, entering the bathroom to brush her teeth and have a bath. Her practiced movements didn’t need any conscious thought, allowing Ishita to dwell on the one unresolved aspect of her life: these intense feelings for her husband.
Their union eight months ago had been a legal formality, a marriage of convenience intended for Ruhi to get her parents back and for Ishita to get her daughter back. She could never have imagined that this formality would grow into the most important relationship of her life. It was true that this marriage gave her her daughter, and many other relationships she was grateful for. But the reason this marriage was the center of her world today was because of her one and only husband.
The lukewarm water of the shower washed over her. She hadn’t ever considered Raman to be her perfect match, especially in the first few months of her marriage. They had belonged to different cultures, with different upbringings, and were outright different people. But today, she reflected on how those differences were what made them the perfect couple, two pieces of a puzzle that fit together, two pieces tailor made for each other.
His one-liners challenged her own wit, keeping her on her toes, while still making her laugh to her heart’s content. His laid-back and happy go-lucky attitude complimented her own anxiety and tendency to worry, calming her down and swelling her confidence. His care and concern for her, especially when she ignored her own needs, made him the perfect partner. And all this didn’t even begin to cover how her insides twisted and heart pounded when her husband came close and whispered sweet-nothings.
She turned off the shower, drying herself and getting dressed. These feelings were so intense, so unlike what she had experienced before. Her courtship with Subbu was convenient and comfortable. Her relationship with Raman was challenging and passionate as well as her constant support and comfort place. She could never have known that love could be like this…
Ishita paused with her comb in her hand, as she stared at her reflection in the mirror, color rising in her cheeks, awareness dawning in her eyes. Her jaw dropped, mouth slowly transforming into a smile. This had to be love. All-consuming, raw, powerful love.
The summer before you
I thought love was Shakespearean
More or less a painful experience
Only ever real if you’re delirious
The summer before you
I let it take up very little oxygen
Not where I’d rest my head
More like an ottoman
Never had someone like you treat me like Solomon
But little did I know
You would be the one I’d confide in
Learn how to try with
Little did I know
It was you before I ever decided
Oh little did I know
Oh little did I know
The summer before you
You can’t spell drama without Consonance
And I admit I usually was the cause of it
Now here we are you’ve got me changing all of it
Slow me down I want you to
It’s different when it comes to you
Little did I know
You would be the one I’d confide in
Learn how to try with
Little did I know
It was you before I ever decided
Ya little did I know
You would be the one who would save me
Learn how to change me
Little did I know
Ooh just look at you can you blame me
Oh little did I know
Oh little did I know
The summer before you
I thought love was Shakespearean
More or less a painful experience
Only ever real if you’re delirious
Ooh little did I know that it could feel like this
Ooh little every time I got you on my lips
The summer before you
https://youtu.be/EvwPKH3wtUY
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Iyer House - 7 am
“Amma! Amma!” Ishita strolled into her parent’s house, looking for her mother.
“I’m in the kitchen, Ishu!” Madhu’s voice sounded out.
Ishita found her mother in the middle of frying pakoras with one hand, and talking on the phone with another. Rather than interrupt her phone call, she proceeded to the pantry to find what she needed: a box of MDH Madras curry powder. Before she could wave her mother goodbye and leave, her mother stopped her with a hand on her forearm.
“Yes Mani,” Madhu spoke into the phone. “You take care kanna, hmm? Koi bhi kaam ho to phone karna. Hum tumhari family jaise hi hai. Turkey pahuch kar phone karna. Aur India aa kar ghar pe visit karne zaroor aana. Okay, bye.”
Ishita heard her childhood friend’s name and stopped in her tracks. She hadn’t heard from him in years. How was he?
“Mani se baat kar rahe the Amma? Kaisa hai woh?” she asked.
“Not so good, Ishu.” An uncharacteristic sadness clouded Madhu’s eyes. “His sister and brother-in-law passed away six months ago. They left behind his niece and nephew.”
“Oh my god…” Ishita gasped. “How did we not know about this earlier?” She was utterly shocked.
“Because we’ve been out of touch with him for years. I only found out last week when I was talking with Vaijanti. A friend of mine from Chennai,” Madhu clarified.
“How is he doing? Is he okay?” Ishita’s eyes softened with concern.
“He is fine, Ishu. It’s been six months so he’s doing much better. Actually, he’s moving to India soon with his niece and nephew. He’s in Singapore right now, for business. But he’s going back to Turkey to wrap up his business and then move to India. Maine usko humaare ghar pe invite kiya hai, jab bhi woh India waapis aaye.”
“That’s great Amma,” Ishita breathed a sigh of relief. As disheartened as she was to hear of his sister and brother-in-law’s demise, she was relieved to know Mani was doing well now. “Amma, can you send me his number? I’ll call him when I get a chance.”
“Sure kanna.”
“And I’m taking this curry powder, okay? We’re all out.” She waved the box of curry powder at her mother.
“Haan haan, koi baat nahi Ishu.”
Ishita turned around to go back to her house only to be stopped by an unusual scene at the Iyers’ front door.
Raman stood on a wobbly stool unscrewing the light bulb above the front door, and her father stood nearby, with another bulb in his left hand, Raman’s laptop bag in his right one. Her heart skipped a beat, seeing her husband dressed in a dapper suit, her novel realization of this morning hanging heavy in her chest.
“Kya ho raha hai yahan Appa? Raman kya kar rahe hai?” she asked.
“Ishu, main yeh light bulb change kar raha tha. Raman bahar aa gaya to isne zid pakdi ki wohi change karega. Maine kitna mana kiya, lekin yeh maanta hi nahi,” Vishwa explained. “Bahot ziddi hai tumhara pati.” He handed Raman the new light bulb who exchanged it for the old, discarded one.
“Aiyyo Raman!” Madhu shrieked. She had come to the front door, having heard the commotion, especially the mention of her son-in-law. “Yeh tum kya kar rahe ho? Hum apne maarumagan se kaam nahi karwa sakte! Tum utro, utro please!”
“Maaru what?” Raman screwed his face in confusion, as he fit the new light bulb.
“She means son-in-law,” Vishwa explained.
“Tch tch… kya aap bhi Amma…” Raman stepped down from the stool, dusting his hands. “Son-in-law se naa sahi, apne son se to kaam karwa hi sakte ho na?”
Ishita’s heart skipped another beat.
“Aur waise bhi, aise stunt karte karte agar Appa ko kuch ho gaya to mera, Bala, aur Mihir ka kya hoga? I mean, we love you guys but we can’t handle the Iyer ladies alone,” Raman quipped. “Seriously Appa, apna dhyan rakha kijiye. You’re the one voice of reason in this madhouse. Is ghar ke teeno bete ko aap ki sakht zaroorat hai.”
“Kya Raman tum bhi…” Vishwa laughed.
“Tum kyun has rahe ho Vishwa?” Madhu sunk her hands on her hips and glared at her husband.
“Case in point,” Raman whispered discreetly to his father-in-law. “Arey Amma, main toh mazaak kar raha tha,” he spoke aloud. “But seriously, agar kuch bhi kaam ho, aur Mihika ya Bala-Vandu ghar pe naa ho, to yeh mat bhuliye aapka dusra beta yahin saamne rehta hai.”
Madhu’s eyes watered. She had been brought up in a very traditional, almost patriarchal background. She had done her best to keep up with the times, but it wasn’t always easy. It took her almost three to four years before she could accept any sort of service from Bala, being inclined to serve and accommodate the son-in-law. Raman had been the same, nothing but polite and understanding since he became their son-in-law, offering to help in housework whenever he was around. But Madhu couldn’t accept it. It would be a while before the concept sunk in: She didn’t just have three daughters, she also had three sons in Raman, Bala, and Mihir.
“Chalo, main office chalta hoon,” Raman said.
“Itni jaldi?” Ishita asked. “Aapne naashta kiya bhi ya nahi?”
“I had some cereal. We’re wrapping up a huge project so I have to go in early. Unlike you. Do din ki chutthi hai na, tumhe?”
“Excuse me! You know how many hours I put in over the weekend? I deserve these two days off!” Ishita huffed, even as her parents struggled to contain their laughter.
“Ab chuthi hai to jaake kuch kaam bhi karlo. Main chalta hoon.”
Her husband escaped her anger only for her parents to become the target.
“Amma, Appa, aap ne suna yeh mujhe kitna pareshaan karte hai?! Aur aap dono bhi humesha unke jokes par haste hai! Aap mere side ho ya unke?!” As hard as she pretended though, she couldn’t be mad. She could never be mad at the person responsible for her parents’ laughter.
“Aiyoo Ishu, kya tum bhi choti choti baaton ka bura maanti ho.” Her mother gently swatted her shoulder.
“Main jaa rahi hoon,” Ishita announced. “Main mummyji se hi complain karungi. Ek wohi hai jo meri baat seriously lete hai. Ab woh hi apne bete ko thik karenge.”
Ishita stomped off to the Bhalla house, eyebrows scrunched up in vexation, mouth curved up in amusement. It was never a dull day around here.
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Raman’s Office - 12 pm
“Great work everybody! We’ve been working on this project since August, and because of all your hard work, we’ll be finishing two weeks before the deadline!”
A round of applause broke out among the staff at Raman’s congratulatory declaration.
“I want to thank all of you for your hard work over the past few months. It wasn’t easy and we couldn’t have completed this order without each one of you. And a special thanks to the marketing team; we had lots of bumps with the client, but all of you persisted and delivered an amazing product!” Another round of applause broke out.
“Bhai, ab kaam itne acche se ho gaya hai to celebration ka kya plan hai?” Romi piped up. He signaled to the rest of the staff to speak up, who echoed his sentiments.
“Yes sir, party to banti hai!”
“We should go out for lunch together!”
“Drinks and dinner!”
Raman waved his hands trying to get the staff to calm down.
“Bhai, they’re right,” Mihir commented. “Celebration to banta hai!”
Raman sighed. He couldn’t disagree. His staff deserved a night of celebration. His investors wanted a night to gloat and show off. And he had earned a night to recognize how far he had come.
“Okay okay, all right!” He raised his voice to calm down his increasingly restless staff. “We’ll organize a grand party to celebrate our success on this contract. Dinner, drinks, dance, socializing, the works. That's a promise.”
Hoots and whoops of cheer broke out among the crowd, the CEO himself joining in the applause. It was truly a joyous moment. The cheer died down as everyone slowly dispersed for lunch. Just as Raman turned to leave, the corner of his eye caught a figure moving closer at the edge of the crowd. Recognition dawned in his eyes, and his smile brightened to a thousand watts.
“Bhabhi, aap yahan?” Mihir had seen the figure approach as well, a smile similar to his brother’s mirroring on his lips.
“Aap logon ke liye lunch le kar aayi thi.” Ishita lifted her hands, showing the two tiffins she carried in each one.
“Aap ne kyun takleef ki bhabhi? Aur do tiffin kyun? Maa to usually ek hi bhejti hai,” Romi asked.
“Isme mera bhi lunch hai. I have the day off so I decided to join you guys.”
Ishita smiled at her brothers-in-law, sneaking glances at her husband. She hadn’t planned on bringing lunch herself; neither had she planned on joining her husband for lunch either. All she knew was that she wanted to be closer to him. Having realized her love for him this morning, she needed an outlet to pour it out. An avenue to express her love until she found the courage to bring the words to her lips. And so, while making his favorite lunch, she couldn’t stop herself from packing it and bringing it to him herself. As the old adage went, the way to her Punjabi husband’s heart was surely through his stomach.
Raman snatched one tiffin from his wife and shoved it into his brother’s hands. “Yeh tum dono ke liye. Break room mein jaa kar khaana.” He took the second one with his right hand and grabbed Ishita’s hand with his left one. “Aur yeh hum dono ke liye. Hum apni office mein khaayenge.”
Before Ishita could contain her shock and react, he was pulling her into his office, Mihir and Romi ‘ooh’-ing and ‘aah’-ing and whistling at their retreating figures. Ishita blushed scarlet, but Raman didn’t give a damn. Wasn’t he entitled to some private time with his wife?
“Raman!” Ishita chided him, shocked and embarrassed. “Yeh kya tha? Aur woh bhi Mihir aur Romi ke saamne?!”
Raman slammed the door shut, stepping forward to his wife. “Dekho, un dono paagal ko main jaanta hoon. Aur tumhe bhi. Tum logon ka bas chalta to yahan family lunch ban jaata. Waise bhi, tumhaare paas apne pati ke liye time hota to hai nahi? To yahin karna padega!”
He slumped down on the sofa, setting the tiffin box on the table in front of him.
“Raman, aap aisa kyun kehte ho ki mere paas aapke liye time nahi hai?” Ishita asked. “Ab zimmedaariyaan hai, family hai, job hai, to thoda to adjust karna padega na? Mujhse zyada to aap busy rehte hai. Kaam mein, bacchon mein, social commitments mein. I’m not complaining but you can’t blame me for-”
“Bas kar madrasan!” Raman interrupted Ishita’s rant. He knew his outburst was unwarranted and her defense justified. But he was as obstinate as they come. “Ab sirf taane khilaaogi ya bande ko khaana bhi naseeb hoga?”
Ishita sighed and joined her husband on the couch. This wasn’t his usual demeanor. It was common knowledge that they had many responsibilities ranging from their jobs and housework to their children and families, all of which they fulfilled diligently. Unfortunately, this didn’t always leave enough time for themselves. This usually hadn't bothered either of them. Until now.
“Achanak itne naaraaz kyun ho gaye aap?” Ishita asked softly. She opened the tiffin box and began serving his lunch on a paper plate. “Main aayi tab to aap itne khush the, celebrate kar rahe the…”
Raman leaned back on the sofa and massaged his sinuses. His wife was right; this was unlike him. This was new. This urge to take up all her time, to covet her all to himself. Even after falling in love with her, he had yet to discover each facet and layer to this fierce and ardent passion.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to get into a foul mood.” He straightened himself, clearing his throat, trying to find the right words. “I just don’t like being surrounded by too many people all the time. Sab ke sab kabab mein haddi hai. Kabhi kabhi tere saath akele mein waqt bitaane ka hi man karta hai.” He bumped her knee with his and winked, lightening the mood.
“Does that mean you enjoy my company? Or that you simply tolerate it?” she asked, echoing their conversation from before their Valentine’s date.
It means I consider myself the luckiest man on earth to be in your company, to share your space. It means I’m stupidly jealous of anyone else you grace your presence with, no matter how idiotic it seems.
“I enjoy your company, Madrasan. More than I can say,” he replied, voice dripping with sincerity. “Aaj khaane mein kya hai?”
Ishita blinked her tears away and handed him the plate. His lips curved up in a smile. His wife knew him well.
“Palak paneer, huh?” He broke a piece of paratha, grabbed a piece of paneer with a generous helping of gravy, and gobbled it up.
“Chinta mat kijiye. Isme sambhar masala nahi daala.”
“Tumne banaya hai?”
“Haan. Aur yeh to kehna hi mat ki aapko pasand nahi hai. Har baar do-teen bowls bharke khaate ho.”
“Woh to isiliye, taaki kisi aur ko yeh torture jhelna na pade.”
For a split-second, her smile shook. “Raman, aap ko sach much nahi pasand?” Her normally self-assured voice held a disguised quiver.
Raman dropped the morsel in his hand, set his plate down, and pressed his palm onto his wife’s hand, squeezing it reassuringly.
“Pasand hai biwi. Aur woh bhi sirf tumhaare haath ka.”
Ishita bit her lower lip. “Well, now you’re just overcompensating.”
Raman picked up his morsel again, and noticed Ishita’s empty hands.
“Aren’t you going to eat?” he asked.
“Haan haan, main leti hoon.”
She turned to the side table and fished around the drawer that held paper plates, cups, napkins, tea bags, and coffee packets.
“Raman, I think you’re out of paper plates here. I’ll go get some from the break room.”
She went to stand up, only to be pulled back down by her husband.
“Abhi kahan tum jaa kar plate dhundogi? Isi mein se khaa lo.”
“Are you sure?”
“Very sure. Yeh lo.”
He stretched his hand and brought a piece of palak covered paratha to her mouth. After momentary hesitation, she opened her mouth and ate the morsel from her husband’s hands. As she grew more comfortable with the intimacy of the action, she returned the gesture. They fed each other, eating from the same plate; Ishita topped their plate with additional parathas and heaps of palak paneer. She wiped the plate clean with the last piece of paratha and fed him the last bite.
As she withdrew her hand, Raman noticed an odd mark on her knuckles. He caught her hand and peered at the mark.
“Yeh tumhare haath ko kya hua?”
“Kuch nahi, kitchen mein kaam karte waqt jal gaya hoga.”
“Kya?!” He brought her hand closer, gently rubbing the burn with his thumb back and forth. “Kaise jal gaya? Tu apna bilkul khayal nahi rakhta na madrasan?! Kitni baar kaha hai apna dhyan rakha kar, lekin Jhansi ki Rani kuch sune tab na!” His voice was irate, a complete contrast to the extreme tenderness in his eyes.
Ishita pressed her free hand to her husband’s mouth, stopping him mid-speech.
“Raman, main thik hoon. Paper cuts, scrapes, burns, aise chhoti-moti chot to sab ko lagte rehte hai.”
Raman lowered her hand from his mouth, only to bring her other hand closer. He closed his eyes and kissed her knuckles, soothing the burn with infinite love. Shivers and goosebumps erupted all over Ishita’s body.
“For god's sakes, take care of yourself.” If something happened to you, I wouldn't be able to live with myself. He hesitantly let go of her hand.
“Waise, aaj ghar par thi, to kya kya kiya?” he asked, desperate to prolong this time with his wife.
“Not much Raman. After you left, Ruhi went to school with papaji. She had a show and tell at school today and she decided to take my stethoscope. I tried to explain that I don’t use it every day, but she was adamant. Besides, I couldn’t let her take any other of my dental instruments. They're too sharp,” she laughed. “Other than that, I just cleaned around the house, made lunch, that’s it.”
“Waise, is maamle mein teri beti tujh pe hi gayi hai. Badi hokar doctor banegi.”
“Doctor ya dentist?”
“Doctor obviously. Apni beti ko daaton ka carpenter thodi banne dunga?”
Ishita playfully punched his shoulder, an adorable pout on her face.
“Waise Raman,” Ishita continued, changing the playful mood to somber. “I also got some bad news today. Kisi se share karne ka mauka hi nahi mila abhi tak.”
“Kya hua?” All traces of laughter were gone from his voice, concerned of what bad news his wife had to bear.
“Mera ek dost tha bachpan mein. Usse bahot saalon se baat nahi hui, lekin aaj Amma usse baat kar rahi thi. Che mahine pehle uski behen aur jijaji ki maut ho gayi. Aur unke dono bacchon ko ab woh sambhaal raha hai.”
Raman pulled her to him and held her close. “Tum thik ho?”
“Main to thik hoon, Raman. Main un logon ko itni acche se nahi jaanti thi. Bas apne dost ki fikar ho rahi hai. Woh ab kaafi akela hoga, aur apne niece aur nephew ko akele paal raha hai. Use phone kiya tha maine dupahar ko, lekin usne phone nahi uthaya. Shaayad mera number unknown hoga isiliye. Maine message bheja hai, so hopefully jaldi baat ho jaaye.” She snuggled closer to her husband.
“Kaun hai yeh dost?
“Abhimanyu Raghav naam hai uska. Hum log use pyaar se Mani bulaate the.”
Something seemed awfully familiar about that name, Raman thought. But he couldn’t figure out where he’d heard it.
“Uska naam kahin se suna suna lagta hai. Kya karta hai Abhimanyu?”
“Woh Turkey mein businessman hai. Shayad usi silsile mein kahin uska naam suna hoga.”
“Ho sakta hai…”
“Amma bata rahi thi ki woh jald hi India move ho raha hai. Agar usse baat ho jaaye, then maybe we can reconnect.”
“I hope you can…”
The clock struck one, signaling the end of Raman's lunch break, cutting their quiet interlude short. Ishita untangled herself from her husband’s embrace and began organizing the tiffin containers, as Raman straightened himself and stood up.
“Chaliye Raman, I’ll let you get back to work. Main chalti hoon.” She walked towards the door, only to have her husband grab her hand and stop her.
“Kya hua, Raman?”
“Ek baat puchni thi.”
“Kya?”
“You must’ve heard when you came in. We’re holding a party to celebrate our success with this contract. And I want you to be there. I’ve come a long way with this business, but I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“Don't say that Raman. This is all your hard work, your sweat and blood. I don’t deserve any credit.”
“Yes you do. You have no idea how you’ve changed my life in the past year.” He took in a deep breath, unable to voice how thankful he was to have her in his life. “Just tell me you’ll come to this party. I want you there by my side.”
Ishita hesitated. She had only been to one business party before and it wasn’t necessarily a success. The gossip and whispers shared by the high-society women rang in her ears, stinging more than they had then. How she was a “downgrade” compared to Shagun. How there was no spark in her relationship with Raman. She still remembered how out of place she felt, among the glamorous women with their high-end dresses, their judgemental and impolite stares.
“Ishita? Will you come?”
Raman’s voice broke her reverie. Raman. Even then, when they were at odds with each other, he had been so understanding. Checking in if she was okay, offering drinks and food, asking her to dance. Her husband needed her by his side. It didn’t matter what gossip spread about them or their marriage. She knew how real this was. She knew how much Raman needed this. And she was happy to oblige.
“I’d love to come, Raman.” I’d be the luckiest woman on the planet to be by your side. I wouldn’t be anywhere else.
“Thank you madrasan.” He squeezed her hand before letting it go.
“Main chalti hoon.”
Raman nodded at Ishita as she took his leave. She headed towards the break room to look for Mihir or Romi to get the other tiffin box before going home. Fortunately, she ran into Mihir in the lobby, busy on his phone, the tiffin box in his other hand.
“Mihir, main khali tiffin le lu?” she whispered, so as not to disturb his phone call.
Mihir nodded and handed the tiffin to his bhabhi. As she turned to leave the building, she heard the last few bits of Mihir’s conversation.
“Miku, sun to… Why are you so mad?!.... I don’t get you sometimes… You know what? Fine, mujhe bhi koi baat nahi karni!”
The angry tone of his conversation worried Ishita. She had noticed Mihika was a bit annoyed two days ago. Upon asking, all she said was his ‘buddhu’ fiancé was being stupid, but she didn’t want to talk further. Ishita had taken it to be a silly, childish fight. But she was proven otherwise.
She turned back around and tapped Mihir’s shoulder. “Mihir, is everything okay? Mihika se jhagda hua?”
“Jhagda to hua hai bhabhi, but I don’t even know about what!”
“Kya matlab?”
“Miku came over to my place two days ago. She got mad that the sink was full of dirty dishes. I told her I was busy and I’d do them later, but that made her even angrier! Somehow she thought that to mean she’d be stuck doing the housework all the time. I sent her flowers over lunch, and for some reason she’s even angrier now!” Mihir pocketed his phone and ran his fingers through her hair. “I don’t know what to do!”
Ishita mulled over Mihika’s logic and understood what the conundrum was.
“Mihir, she’s mad because she’s scared of what her life would be like after getting married. Amma, Akka, and I have been convincing her that she will still have full independence after being married, that she can focus on her career without being tied down to domestic work. If she sees that her husband-to-be won’t even clean a sink full of dirty dishes, what do you expect her to think? That all these chores will fall on her.”
“But bhabhi, it was one time. Otherwise I’m diligent about keeping my place clean. I even know how to cook. In fact, I’ve cooked for her so many times! And I’ll keep doing so after getting married. Why would she think I wouldn’t share in household chores?”
Ishita shrugged. “You’d have to ask her that. But flowers or chocolates aren’t going to cut it this time. Tell her what you told me and you’re golden. She needs to hear from you that both of you will share in the responsibilities of the house.”
Mihir breathed a sigh of relief. “This makes so much more sense. Thank you bhabhi. Thank you so much!”
He gave a quick hug to his sister-in-law, a weight lifted off his chest. He turned on his heels dialing his fianceé’s number again, as Ishita went downstairs to go back home.
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Nitya Pravah Dance Studio Parking lot - the next day, Tuesday, 5:50 pm
Ishita exited the car and shut her car door, as Simi pulled her own car into the spot next to her with Rinki in the passenger seat. Ishita had come to pick up Ruhi from her dance class, and Simi and Rinki tagged along hoping to find some time with Adi. Now that he had been reintroduced to the family, they all wanted to take every chance they could to spend time with him. Today, Raman was working late which meant Rinki and Simi had joined Ishita instead.
“Ishita, Adi ko yeh games pasand to aayegi na?” Simi asked. She collected various board games and puzzles from the trunk of her car creating a stack so huge, it came up to her chin. “I mean, they’re not all new. Some are games that Ananya and Ruhi were gifted but didn’t use. And I bought some from the thrift shop. He’s probably used to expensive-”
“Simi, itna zyada socho mat,” Ishita interrupted. “If there is one thing I know about Adi, it’s that he doesn’t look at price. Tum pyar se jo dogi use sab pasand aayega.”
Simi smiled and breathed a sigh of relief.
“He plays football in the field across the street.” Ishita pointed to the field. “Uski practice dus minute mein khatam ho rahi hogi. Main Ruhi ko lekar wahin aati hoon.”
“Thik hai bhabhi. Chaliye Simi di,” Rinki said.
As Simi and Rinki crossed the street, Ishita approached the entrance to the dance studio to see her daughter walking out. Except today she didn’t have the usual spring in her step.
“Ruhi, kya hua aapko? Aap sad lag rahe ho…”
“Ishimaa, practice was no fun today. I fell down and hurt my leg. And so many people laughed.”
Ishita’s heart fell seeing a frown on the face of her normally chirpy daughter. She opened her arms and Ruhi ran into the sanctuary of her mother’s embrace.
“I’m sorry baby. Aap ke pair mein zyada chot to nahi lagi?” She pulled away to examine Ruhi’s feet.
“My feet are fine, mumma. I just want to go home.”
“Beta, Adi bhaiya se miloge? Simi bua aur Rinki bua bhi aayi hai.”
No response.
“At least for five minutes?” Ishita coaxed her daughter.
“Okay mumma.”
………………………………………………………………………………………………………
Meanwhile @ Arch Sports Field
Rinki and Simi sat with Adi on a bench at the edge of the field. Simi had spent almost ten minutes explaining each game she had brought and how to play it, apologizing for some of them being used and second-hand. Adi had quashed her apologies, insisting he loved every game and puzzle she brought. Rinki had then asked in detail how Adi’s school was, which subjects he liked, who his best friends were. He gave short, succinct answers to each question, not knowing how to keep the conversation going further.
Like last week, he was shy and reserved. Other than Raman and Ruhi, he had yet to bond with anyone else, Romi and Mihir being the only ones with whom he’d slightly opened up to. It wasn’t until Ruhi came running into the field that Simi and Rinki noticed Adi's face brighten up.
Adi and Ruhi spent the next fifteen minutes playing in the field, Ishita noting with relief that her daughter's bright, chirpy demeanor had returned. Rinki joined the kids shortly, leaving Simi and Ishita on the bench.
“Yaar Ishita, humara Adi us chudail ke paas, matlab us Shagun ke paas rehta hai phir bhi uska dil kitna saaf hai,” Simi commented. “Uski buraai humaare bacche ko chu tak nahi paayi. Ek woh thi, har choti choti baat pe ghar mein problem create karti thi. Bhai ko itna pareshaan karti thi, zyada paise chahiye, zyada mehengi cheezein chahiye… Aur ek yeh baccha hai, meri saari gifts itne pyaar se le li. Maine maafi maangne ki koshish ki, to usne ek nahi suni. Aisa lagta hai ki yeh abhi bhi humara wohi pyaara bhola-bhala puttar hai by god.”
“Of course humara hi baccha hai Simi.” Ishita replied. “Even if he doesn’t live with us right now, the values you all gave him have shaped him into who he is today, and who he will be in the future.”
“He’s still so shy though. He doesn’t talk much to us.”
“Use time do Simi. Abhi abhi to mila hai sabse.”
They spent ten more minutes there until they had to disperse. Simi had to be home in time for Ananya’s dinner, and Ruhi was getting antsy to go home for her evening cartoon show. Ishita, however, wanted some one-on-one time with Adi. He had been growing closer to everyone in the family, but still gave her a cold shoulder. It was time to tackle the bull by its horns. She insisted Ruhi go home with Rinki bua in Simi bua’s car, while she talked with Adi bhaiya.
Adi rubbed his sweaty palms together, watching his sister and aunts cross the street to their car. His source of anxiety however, was the fact that his stepmother hadn’t gone with them.
“Adi, can I talk to you beta?” Ishita asked, kindly.
“Mujhe koi baat nahi karne aapse,” he replied, his voice icy cold, hiding an undercurrent of compassion.
“I insist, beta. Please baitho na.”
Adi sat down beside Ishita, his back rigid, stance stiff, and eyes averted. Ishita smiled inwardly. This boy reminded her so much of her Raman, especially the Raman she had met a year ago. A heart encased in ice, isolated from all the love in his life, angry at the world, and scared to open up again.
“Aap mujhse gussa ho Adi?” she asked, not dancing around the bush.
Adi sucked in a breath and shut his eyes. How dare she? How dare she act this innocent when she was the cause of all the pain in his mom’s life? This was it. He was going to give this woman a piece of his mind. He was going to empty all his rage on the one person who rightly deserved it.
He turned his head and met her eyes, and his anger dissipated as instantly as it rose. He saw nothing but genuine love and concern. But he was still angry, still confused, still raging with a storm inside.
“Haa, gussa hu. Bahot gussa hoon. Why are you in my life? Why are you in my dad’s and my sister’s life? They belong with me and my mom! You even tied a rakhi to Mihir mama! My mom’s brother!” He had stood up now and was shouting in earnest. “My mom is so alone! All because of you!”
Ishita drew in a shaky breath and shut her eyelids, forcing her tears back, processing all the accusations Adi had sent raining on her. Guilt racked her heart; was she really responsible for this poor boy’s suffering? Had she really taken a place that belonged to someone else?
She cleared her throat. Now was not the time for her to be weak. She was the adult here. And this kid needed her, even if he didn’t realize it.
“Adi, please sit down and listen to me,” she began. “I promise you, maine aap ki mumma ki jagah nahin li, aur naahin kabhi lena chaha hai. Maine unse kuch nahi cheena. I know you want your dad and sister in your life, in your family. And they are your family, beta. We are all your family. Ruhi, papa, mumma, me… we’re all your family.”
“No, you are not my family,” Adi maintained, but with much less conviction.
“Adi, families come in all different shapes and forms. And you have a very big one. Your grandparents, all your aunts and uncles, your sister and cousins, your dad, your mom, and me. I know you don’t think I’m your family, and that’s okay for now. But can you believe me when I say that I never ever meant to hurt you or your mother?”
“How do I believe that? How do I believe that you’re not responsible for all the misery in my mom’s life?”
“Beta, when did your mom leave your dad’s house?”
“Five years ago.”
“I didn’t meet your father until a year ago. I only got married to him last July. Long after your mother had left the Bhalla house. I didn’t steal anyone.”
“And Ruhi? What about her? Shouldn’t she be with her real mom?”
Ishita blanched and reeled back as if she’d been punched in the face. It’s okay, Ishu. He doesn’t know. How would she explain Ruhi’s life without painting Shagun in a bad picture?
“Adi, Ruhi is with her real mom. I’m her mom. I didn’t give birth to her, but she’s growing up with me. On the other hand, Shagun is your mom. That’s the truth that we all have to live with, okay?” Ishita strengthened her voice with confidence and conviction. No one, absolutely no one could negate her motherhood.
Adi looked away again, perplexed beyond belief. He knew in his bones that Ruhi was happy with Ishita. Just as happy as he had been at that age. She was a great mom evidently. He couldn’t deny it. How come everything he saw about this woman was at odds with what his mom said about her?
“Sorry aunty… I-I didn’t mean… I didn't mean to hurt you…”
“It’s okay beta,” Ishita reached for his shoulder, but Adi shrugged her hand away. He wasn’t ready for that, and she understood.
She recalled one more accusation that Adi had thrown at her. “Aur jahan tak tumhaare Mihir mama ki baat hai, can’t a brother have two sisters? Tumhaare Mihir mama itne acche hai, ki woh mere bhai jaise hai. Isiliye maine unko rakhi baandhi. Lekin woh sabse pehle tumhaare mumma ke hi bhai hai.”
Adi nodded and turned his face towards Ishita again.
“Beta, whatever happened, just know that I never ever wanted to hurt you or your mother. I never wanted to take your mother’s place or cause her any unhappiness. But if I did, then I’m sorry.”
Ishita raised her hands to her ears, only to be stopped by an awestruck Adi.
“No Aunty!” He grabbed her hands, stopping their ascent. First papa, then Simi bua, now Ishita Aunty. Why did they all have to apologize so much? He wasn’t used to adults in his life being so soft-spoken, much less saying sorry. “Please aap sorry mat boliye. It’s not right.”
Ishita lowered her hands, and gently stroked his cheek. This time, he didn’t move away.
“Adi, can I say something else?” Ishita asked.
He nodded.
“You and I, we both love our family. And our whole family loves both of us. And when we fight or avoid each other, they get hurt. So, for them, can we call a truce? Maybe become friends?”
No, we can’t, his mind yelled. Yes, I want to, his heart whispered.
Adi gulped. “Okay, truce.”
Ishita leaned back, tension seeping out of her muscles, knots loosening. She was finally making headway with her stepson.
“Adi beta, aapka driver abhi tak nahi aaya? Main aapko ghar chod doon?” Ishita asked.
“Driver aaj chutti par hai. Mom was supposed to come pick me up.”
“Try calling her beta.”
“I sent her so many messages. She’s not replying.”
“Koi baat nahi. I’ll take you home. And we can check in on her too.”
Ishita coaxed Adi into her car, turned on the engine, and drove out of the parking lot.
………………………………………………………………………………………………………
Khanna Mansion - 6:40 pm
As soon as Ishita parked the car, Adi sprung out of his seat, running inside to check on his mother. Why hadn’t she come to pick him up? Why wasn’t she picking up his phone or answering his texts?
“Adi wait!” Ishita called out, running after him. “Adi slow down!”
She ran into the house and almost crashed into Adi. He stood at the living room threshold, transfixed, his gaze on the figure on the sofa. Ishita turned her head and the scene in front of her shocked her.
Shagun sat on the sofa, her back to them, wine glass in one hand, remote in another, while the TV played a classic English film.
“Mom?” Adi called out. Shagun turned around, setting down the wine glass and remote. Her face lit up at the sight of her son, then immediately turned sour at the sight of the woman beside him.
“Adi, what are you doing with this woman?” she sneered.
“Mom, aap mujhe lene kyun nahi aaye?” Adi asked, ignoring her question. “The driver was off today. I thought you were coming to pick me up.”
Shagun gasped, and her hands flew to her mouth. “Oh no beta! I totally forgot! It completely slipped my mind.” She drew her son into a hug and gave him a kiss on the forehead. “I was so tired today, I didn't mean-”
Adi smiled, eyes encased in sadness. “It’s okay mom. It happens. I’m going upstairs.”
He ran upstairs before his mother defended herself any more, before his stepmother pitied him any more.
“Adi suno! Kuch khaana to kha lo!” Shagun called out. With her cries falling on deaf ears, she channeled her frustration to the one scapegoat in front of her.
“You. Isheeta, what did you say to my son? Why isn’t he speaking to me? I’m his mother dammit!”
“Maybe he isn’t speaking with you, because you were busy sipping wine and watching TV, when you were supposed to pick him up from football practice.”
“How dare you?!” she seethed. “Tum mujhe mat sikhao ki apne bete ka khayal kaise rakhna hain. Mujhe tum se behtar aata hai. Adi, Ruhi, dono mere bacche hain. Raman ne itne saal sirf mujhse pyaar kiya hai. You came after me, don’t forget that.”
Ishita broadened her shoulders and held her head high. This delusional woman, of all people, was not going to rattle her today.
“You’re right Shagun. Adi is your son, and you must know what’s best for him. But don’t pretend that what you did today was the best for your son. Even you aren’t that stupid. And as far as Raman and Ruhi are concerned, you don’t know one thing about them. So don’t make a fool of yourself by even pretending. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go home to my husband and daughter.”
Ishita turned around and sauntered off, confidence illuminating her every step, even as certain bitter words shoved their way into a corner of her mind. Shagun fumed behind her, determined to show her her place, even as her ego shook and pride fell.
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Edited by Aditi_X - 2 years ago
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