Part 44
Iyer House - A few days later, Thursday, March 20th, 6 pm
"Come in, Ishu, sit. Come Ruhi kanna," Madhu welcomed her daughter and granddaughter into her home. Bala, Vandu, and Mihika had already gathered in the living room. Ruhi saw Shravu playing in the bedroom and sprinted inside to join him.
"Should I bring you some coffee, Ishu?" Madhu asked, as Ishita took a seat beside Mihika.
"No Amma, I'm good. Is he here yet?" Ishita inquired.
"Not yet kanna. But he should be here soon," Vishwa answered on his way out of the bedroom. "But where are Mihir and Raman? I thought they were coming too."
"Periappa, Mihir is working late today," Mihika frowned.
"And Raman is at Adi's football practice," Ishita said. "He'll drop him off at his house then come here."
The bell rang, and the guest they had been waiting for made his appearance.
"Aiyyo he's here! He's here!" Madhu exclaimed, excitedly. She ran to the door and burst it open. "Mani! Come in, come in!"
Abhimanyu Raghav aka Mani stood six feet tall at the door, a dashing fair lad dressed in a white blazer and blue jeans, his dark hair styled with expensive gel and hairspray.
"Vanakkam aunty!" He folded his hands and bent down to touch Madhu's feet. "It's been so many years, hasn't it?"
"Look at you kanna... You're so tall now! Oh how you've grown!" Madhu caressed Mani's face lovingly. Seven years had flown by, and she couldn't believe that the tall, fair stud that stood in front of him was the same boy he had fed with her own hands. "And who are these little people?" She noticed the little boy and girl who stood crouched behind him.
Mani ushered his niece and nephew into the house and introduced them. "This is Aliya. And this is Nirvaan. Beta, say hi to everyone..."
One after another, everyone met Mani. Vandu greeted him with a hug, Bala gave him a pat on the back, and Mihika shook his hand. She then high-fived Aliya and Nirvaan and took them inside to meet Ruhi and Shravu.
Finally, saving the best for the last, Mani approached Ishita and opened his arms for a hug from his childhood friend.
"Ishu!"
"Mani!"
She gave him a light hug, patting his back in a gesture of friendship. "Kitne saalon baad mile ho tum?" she exclaimed as they came apart. "Tum Turkey gaye uske baad to humein bhul hi gaye, kyun?"
"Aisi baat nahi hai Ishu. Things happened. Life got in the way. You know how it is..."
"I know Mani, don't worry about it. I was just pulling your leg, yaar. Sit sit na, khade kyun ho?"
They sat down on the sofa, with Vandu and Bala on the opposite couch. Vishwa pulled up a chair and Madhu handed Mani a glass of water.
"Mani tell me, kya loge?" Madhu asked. "Chai, coffee?"
"Nahi nahi aunty... Abhi khaane pe bulaya hai, to seedha khaana khaane hi baithenge. Aap do minute baithiye na? Baatein kijiye."
Madhu sat down on the chair beside her husband, as Mani gulped down the glass of water.
"Waise Mani, I thought you'd take a couple months to come to India. Itni jaldi kaise aana hua?" Bala asked.
"I hadn't planned on coming this early actually." Mani set down the glass of water. "But my contracts got wrapped up pretty quickly, and the office in India is opening soon. So it worked out perfectly for me to move around this time."
"Oh I see... Is your new office in Delhi then? Are you planning to stay here permanently?"
"Not really, I mean my office headquarters are going to be in Delhi, but the factory is being set up in Jaipur. So I'll be going back and forth quite a bit. The kids like the school in Delhi, so we're getting settled here."
The conversation twisted and turned from Mani's future business plans, to the Iyers' few but cherished memories of Mani's sister and brother-in-law, to Mihika's pending nuptials (Madhu had already given a stern invitation to Mani), and finally, to childhood memories of Ishita and Mani together.
"....And then it took two whole hours before we could get him down from the mango tree!" Vandu laughed.
"Don't blame me Akka!" Mani defended himself. "Ishu loved mangoes then, and she was practically drooling at the ripe fruit on the tree. And on top of that, she wanted extra mangoes to take home for you and Mihika."
"You idiot," Ishita gently swatted Mani's shoulder. "I was talking about buying mangoes from the store! I wasn't asking you to climb that tree!"
"I wish I had known that then, before I climbed up and got stuck up there," Mani chuckled.
"Oh my god, I can't..." Madhu clutched her stomach between fits of laughter. "You two were so funny together!"
As they reminisced their childhood memories, Aliya came running out from the bedroom and tugged on Mani's blazer sleeve.
"Abhi mama, I'm hungry. When are we having dinner?" she asked quietly.
"Uh... Aunty, khaana khaane kab baithenge?" Mani asked Madhu.
"Bas Raman ko aa jaane do, phir baithte hai. Raman matlab Ishu's husband," Madhu clarified.
"Amma, ek kaam kijiye," Ishita intervened. "Baccho ko khaane ke liye bitha dijiye abhi. Phir Raman aa jaayein uske baad hum sab baithte hai, thik hai?"
"Okay Ishu. Come Aliya beta."
"Ruhi! Shravu! Nirvaan! Come outside beta!" Vandu called.
The kids were served dinner, while the adults continued with their conversation. This time the topic was Ishita's marriage, a fact that Mani still refused to believe.
"I actually can't believe it, Ishu. I mean you had always talked about marrying a nice Tamilian boy, someone of the same culture, same profession. It just doesn't make sense to me," Mani said.
"That was my plan, yes. But it didn't work out too well, did it? I'm very happy with the man I married. Murugan may have foiled my plans but turns out, he had much better things in store for me," Ishita explained.
Mani still couldn't fathom it. He knew Ishu very well. Apart from her aspiring career as a dentist, all she used to talk about for her future was marrying a Brahmin Tamilian boy, someone her parents approved of, someone with whom she could build a future exactly as her parents had, as her Vandu akka had. To think that this woman was now married to a divorced Punjabi father of two was unfathomable.
He had heard about Raman from some friends during a pan-Asian conference, and he did not have the best impression. He was ruthless as a businessman but aloof as a person. He had heard elaborate tales of his anger and his iron-fist. How was Ishu fairing with a husband like that? And how was she living with a family of alcohol-swigging meat-eating Punjabi in-laws?!
A knock on the door disrupted Mani's thoughts and signaled the arrival of said Punjabi.
"Raman beta! Come in, come in!" Vishwa beckoned him. "You came at the right time. The kids are just finishing up. We're about to sit for dinner."
Ishita turned her head to the door and her face lit up. Raman stood there in a shirt and formal pants, devoid of his coat and tie which he had discarded at his house along with his laptop bag.
"Raman, kitni der lag gayi aap ko?" Ishita asked as she approached him with a spring in her step. "Adi to thik hai na?"
"Thik hai woh madrasan," Raman replied. "Uske saath thodi der football khel raha tha isiliye aane mein late hua. Waise," Raman's voice dropped a notch as he leaned in closer to his wife. "Adi ke baare mein itna puch rahi ho. Kabhi Adi ke papa ki bhi khabar puch liya karo..."
"Adi ke papa ki khabar main kyun puchu?" Ishita smirked. "Adi ke papa to mere saamne khade hai, aur thik-thaak bhi lag rahe hai. Lekin Adi thodi mere paas khada hai?"
"Very smart Madrasan. Very smart," Raman chuckled.
"Accha, come meet my friend." Ishita dragged Raman inside. "Raman, this is my friend that I was telling you about, Abhimanyu Raghav aka Mani. And Mani, this is my husband, Raman Kumar Bhalla."
Both of them shook hands, introducing themselves, talking about what they did for business. Soon enough, they were invited for dinner as Ruhi and Shravu ran inside after their dinner, followed by Aliya and Nirvaan.
Mani, Ishita, and Raman made their way to the table. Vandu brought over extra plain and masala idlis along with bowls of coconut and tomato chutney, while Madhu stirred the pot of drumstick sambhar on the stove. She turned off the stove and struggled to pick up the pot.
"Amma! Wait!" Raman shouted. He ran to the kitchen, stopping right beside his mother-in-law. "Amma, put the pot down. Neeche rakho ise. Right now!"
Madhu immediately set the pot down on the stove again and turned towards her son-in-law. He was rarely this stern or demanding with her. Had she done something wrong? "Kya hua Raman? Kuch chahiye?"
"Amma, yeh pot kitna heavy hai, dekhiye to. Abhi gir-vir gaya, to aapko chot lag jaayegi. Rukiye, main lekar jaata hoon."
"Aiyyo, no Raman... You don't have to..." Madhu was a loss for words.
Raman grabbed the handles of the pot and picked it up from the stove bringing it to the table, ignoring his mother-in-law's protests. Much to her dismay (and Ishita's delight), Raman kept going back to the kitchen to bring over more food items, including samosas, vada, and mysore paak. Madhu followed him back and forth, frantic at the thought of her son-in-law working in her house. In his overenthusiasm, he even brought over a bowl of murukku and thattai, which weren't even supposed to be on the dinner table.
"Aiyyo Raman, mere ko paap lagega-" Madhu groaned.
"Kuch paap-vaap nahin lagta Amma. Baithiye humaare saath. Baithiye." Raman forced his mother-in-law to sit down beside his father-in-law, as the rest of the adults settled down on the table.
"Raman, maine tumko kitna bola hai. Mere ghar pe aise kaam mat karo," Madhu pleaded.
"Amma, tension mat lijiye. Aap ki beti mujhse itna kaam karwaati hai ghar pe, yeh to kuch bhi nahi hai," he laughed.
"Exactly Amma," Ishita joined in, "Maine to aaj raat ke bartan aur kapde nikaal ke rakhe hai."
"Dekh lijiye aapke beti ke kiye huye zulm," Raman chuckled.
Madhu laughed at her daughter and son-in-law's antics, loosening up and slowly letting go her self-consciousness. Ishita met Raman's eyes and nodded slightly, sending him a silent thank you for easing her mother's discomfort. Raman nodded discreetly and gestured to her to begin eating.
Mani took a bite of his idli dipped in sambhar and grew wary of his impression of Raman. Contrary to what he expected, Raman had seemed like a nice enough man when he first met him a few minutes ago. The way he helped Madhu aunty with dinner prep was impressive as well. But was it necessary to taunt Ishita the way he had? 'Zulm' he had called it. Torture.
As they ate dinner, Vandu and Mihika began regaling Raman with tales of Ishita and Mani's childhood, much to Ishita's embarrassment and Raman's delight.
"Wow madrasan, matlab tumhari yeh harkatein bachpan se chali aa rahi hai," he laughed. "Finally, there's an explanation!"
"Oh Raman, you don't know the half of it," Vandu chuckled. "These two were practically joined at the hip together as kids. That's why it didn't surprise me when Amma suggested Ishu and Mani's pairing for marriage. But of course destiny had other better plans..."
Raman dropped his spoon onto his plate and choked on his sambhar. He coughed violently, grabbing everyone's attention at the table.
"Raman, are you okay?" Ishita asked, voice laced with concern. "Sambhar teekha lag gaya kya? Yeh lijiye paani lijiye." She handed him a glass of water and rubbed his back.
"I'm fine... fine..." Raman coughed. He gulped down the water, cursing his memory. How could he not have remembered where he'd heard Mani's name before?
Ruhi's sobs from last year rang in his ears. "Chitti keh rahi thi ki Ishimaa kisi Mani uncle se shaadi kar rahi hain aur bahot door jaa rahi hain. Mujhe chod ke."
He recalled his outburst on Ishita, the sense of possessiveness he had felt at her even when they weren't tied together by the marital bond. "Tum shaadi kar rahi ho?! Ruhi ko lagta hai ki tumhari kisi Mani naam ke ladke se shaadi ho rahi aur tum kahin door jaa rahi ho. Apne kamre mein ro rahi hai woh."
And to think that his madrasan, the love of his life, could've been married to this man, her childhood friend. The idlis in his stomach churned and threatened to make an ugly reappearance. All of a sudden, he felt a strong dislike for this Mani. But he quashed it down, as sound reason and logic trumped the territorial bulldog in him. It wasn't this guy's fault. Besides, he had his Ishita now. So what did any of that matter?
Thanks to his sudden coughing fit, the topic had changed as Bala teased Raman at his inability to handle sambhar and rasam even when he could digest the spiciest of chicken curries and paneer masalas.
The rest of the night passed by without incident. Dinner ended soon, and it was time for everyone to leave. Vandu and Bala left with Shravu, while Mani left with Aliya and Nirvaan, giving everyone one last hug. Raman couldn't help but notice that the hug he gave Ishita was longer than the rest. Or maybe it was just his perception.
Hours later, he lay in bed, his wife by his side. Everything was right in his world today. But still, sleep evaded him, as the green-eyed monster stirred deep within. What would have happened if Ruhi hadn't connected them together? What would have happened if Ishita hadn't agreed to marry him then, even if it was just for Ruhi's sake? He would be all alone today, without his madrasan, while she would've been married to that- NO. The thought unnerved him and he turned in the bed.
Ishita noticed her husband's restlessness and turned to face him. She could tell from the way he tossed and turned that something was not right. "Kya hua, Raman?" she asked.
"Hmm? Kya matlab?"
"Aap abhi tak jaag kyun rahe ho?"
"Bas aise hi, neend nahi aa rahi hai," Raman sighed.
"Koi pareshaani hai?"
Raman smiled. His wife knew him inside out. "Tujhe kaise pata?"
"Bas pata hai. Bataiye na, kya hua?"
"Aaj mujhe ek baat yaad aa gayi. Bas wohi mere dimaag se nikalti nahi..."
"Kaun si baat?" Ishita straightened up and perched her head on her elbow.
"Vandu Akka ne mention kiya tha, ki humaari shaadi se pehle, Amma ne tumhara aur Mani ka rishta suggest kiya tha. Yaad hai, Ruhi ne sun liya tha aur woh rote rote apne kamre mein aa gayi thi?"
"Haan, aur phir aap naak par gussa liye mere darwaaze par pahoch gaye the," Ishita chuckled. Suddenly she turned serious, realizing the source of her husband's foul mood. "Aap ko bura laga Akka ki us baat ka? Unhone toh bas aise hi bol diya tha Raman. Unka matlab-"
"Shaant madrasan, shaant. Mujhe us baat ka bura nahi laga. Main to bas soch raha tha. Agar sach much tumhari aur Mani ki shaadi-"
"Raman!" Ishita gasped. "Please mazaak mein bhi aisi baatein mat kijiye." She couldn't imagine her life without Raman, Ruhi, or anyone else. And the thought of being married to someone other than Raman... She couldn't even bear to think of it. She shuddered and involuntarily moved closer to her husband. This man was her one and only love.
Raman smiled. Turned out his madrasan was just as scared of that possibility as he was.
"Come here," he whispered to his wife, who inched closer and curled into his embrace. He had the woman of his dreams in his arms. There was no point entertaining impossible scenarios. He had no reason to be insecure. He had no reason to fear.
.....................................................................................................................
Bhalla House - Next day, Friday, 4 pm
"Mumma! Meri coloring books kahan hai?!" Ruhi shouted from her bedroom. Even from the living room, Ishita could hear sounds of backpacks being emptied and books being upturned.
Ishita sat on the floor of the living room in front of her mother-in-law who massaged her scalp and soaked her tresses in hair oil.
"Ruhi! Aapki coloring books shelf par hai, right beside your crayons and color pencils!" she yelled back. "Aur please kamra ganda mat karna! Ishimaa ne do din pehle hi saaf kiya hai!"
Toshi chuckled out loud as she adjusted her position on the sofa and sunk her fingers into her daughter-in-law's hair.
"Yeh Ruhi bilkul apne baap par gayi hai," Toshi commented. "Woh bhi bachpan mein apna kamra itna faila deta tha, ki jaise..."
"Jaise koi toofan aaya ho?" Ishita finished her sentence.
"Yes! Exactly!!" Toshi laughed.
"Mummyji, aap ke bete ka aaj bhi yahin haal hai. Bilkul nahi badle."
"Meri maa se meri buraai kar rahi ho?" Raman had come home from his office, and he stood in the doorway. He leaned against the door frame, his hands in his pockets, laptop bag slung over his shoulder, with tousled hair and the corner of his lips upturned. Ishita's heart turned in her chest.
"Meri itni zurrat? Ki main 'The Raman Bhalla' ki buraai karu?" Ishita drawled, teasing her husband. She closed her eyes and smiled at the ministrations of her mother-in-law's fingers in her hair.
"Aur waise bhi puttar," Toshi chimed in, "maa se kuch chhupa nahi hota. Tera har raaz mujhe pata hai. Jaise ki... tujhe Ishita se..." Toshi let the end of her sentence dangle.
"Maa!" Raman shouted in nervous warning. His spine shot straight and every muscle in his body tensed. What was his mother about to say?
"Kya? Main toh bol rahi thi ki tujhe Ishita se jalan ho rahi hogi. Main use tel maalish kar rahi hoon, aur tujhe nahi?" Toshi feigned innocence.
"Rehne dijiye maa." Raman folded his hands. "Main jaa raha hoon apni beti se milne."
Leaving behind the giggles of his wife and mother, Raman walked inside looking for his daughter. As he approached her bedroom, he was greeted with the sight of his little girl sprawled on the bed, scribbling in her coloring book in the middle of a floor covered in clothes, books, and bags. He shook his head; maybe Ishita and his mother did have a point.
"Ruhi beta," he whisper-shouted, "mumma ne yeh mess dekh liya na to gussa karengi."
"Papa!" Ruhi stood on her bed and ran to her father at the edge of the bed, throwing herself into his arms. "Aap office se itni jaldi aa gaye?" Her face held an uncharacteristic frown.
"Haan, jaldi aa gaya. Lekin is baat par tumhara chehra kyun utar gaya? Papa ko dekh kar khushi nahi huyi?"
"No papa, nothing like that. I was going to ask you to bring watercolors for me on your way home. We are all out. I wanted to paint in my coloring book... But you already came home before I could tell you that..."
"Oh I see..." Raman picked up his daughter in his arms. "My little girl wants watercolors, huh? Don't worry, we'll get you some this weekend. Until then, how about we go next door and find some? Mihika chitti might have some."
"Really papa?!" Ruhi's face lifted in joy.
"Absolutely. Apni coloring books le lo. Hum Tata-Paati ke paas chalte hai. Lekin pehle yeh kamra samet lo. Papa aapki help karte hai. Warna Ishimaa hum dono ko nahin chodengi."
The father-daughter duo made quick work of the room and organized the mess as best they could before Raman escorted his daughter outside to the living room, her coloring books in her hand.
"Ishita, main Ruhi ko Amma-Appa ke ghar lekar jaa raha hoon. Use watercolors se painting karni hai, and we're all out. I think Mihika has some in her room," he said.
"Okay Raman. Ruhi, Tata-Paati ko pareshaan mat karna, okay? Be a good girl," Ishita replied.
"Yes mumma!"
As Toshi combed and braided Ishita's oiled hair, Ruhi ran to the Iyer house with her father following close behind.
"TATA! PAATI! CHITTI!" she yelled.
"Oh my god!" Mihika's face brightened as she lifted Ruhi into her arms. "What is my Ruhi baccha doing here?"
"Chitti, can I borrow your watercolors? I want to paint in my coloring book." Ruhi waved the books in her hand.
"Of course bacchu!"
Five minutes later, Mihika, Ruhi, and Raman were gathered around the coffee table with watercolors, acrylic paints, and paint brushes, as they painted together on various pages of Ruhi's coloring book.
"No papa, that is the wrong shade of pink!" Ruhi squealed at her father. "That flower is supposed to be magenta pink! You're using fuschia pink!"
Raman looked up at his daughter, stopped his brush strokes, and furrowed his brows in confusion. "What?"
"Ugh..." Ruhi groaned. "Chitti, aap samjhao papa ko!" She turned towards Mihika.
"She's right, jeeju." Mihika picked up the tubes of fuschia pink and magenta pink paint. "See, this is magenta pink. It is a bit darker and richer. And this is fuschia pink. It's kind of lighter but has more brightness."
Everything Mihika said went over his head. "They're both pink. It's the exact same color," he deadpanned.
Ruhi slapped her forehead. "Papa, just use magenta pink. Please."
"Fine," Raman conceded. He took the tube of magenta pink from Mihika and squeezed a dollop of paint on the palette. He dipped his brush in water and resumed painting with the new shade of pink.
The ruckus had garnered Madhu's attention. She left her bedroom and arrived in the living room.
"Raman! Tum kab aaye?" Madhu exclaimed, pleasantly surprised. "Aur mera Ruhi baccha bhi hai?!"
"Hi Paati!" Ruhi waved to her grandmother without taking her attention off her paintbrush.
"Aiyyo Raman, main one minute mein tumhaare liye chai aur snacks leke aati hoon, just wait."
"Nahi nahi Amma!" Raman stopped his mother-in-law from going into the kitchen and beckoned her to sit down with them. "Aap yahan baithiye na, humaare saath?"
"Haan periamma, come sit," Mihika added. "We're having so much fun."
"Yeah, mera dimaag kharaab kar ke they're having fun," Raman muttered.
Madhu sat down on the sofa and gazed at the scene in front of her. Her son-in-law, granddaughter, and niece painted happily on the coffee table, occasionally having amusing tiffs at color shades and hues.
"Jeeju, what color are you using on the butterfly?" Mihika asked as Raman made his first stroke on the butterfly.
"It's blue." He showed the tube of paint he was using.
"That's sapphire blue jeeju. You should use cobalt blue. Here." She handed him another tube of paint.
Raman took both tubes in his hands and compared the two, looking from one to another. "I don't get it! They're both blue!" he huffed.
Madhu, Mihika, and Ruhi laughed at Raman's confusion, trying to instruct him in the various shades of every color. Just then, a knock on the door interrupted the amusing scene.
"Kya chal raha hai yahan?" Ishita asked, as she came in and sat beside her mother.
"Mera dimaag kharaab kiya jaa raha hai," Raman muttered. "Wait, you tell me one thing." He showed her the two tubes of pink paint. "Are these the same color or different colors?"
"Um..." Ishita examined both tubes of paint. "They're different colors. This one is lighter and less rich."
"Okay then fine. Wait." Raman dropped the pink paint and picked up the two tubes of blue paint. "What about these?"
"They're also different shades, Raman. This one is darker and has more hints of purple."
Raman dropped both tubes of paint. "That's it. I give up." He scooted backwards and leaned back on the sofa. "If I keep going, you ladies will convince me that I'm colorblind."
Laughter erupted all around.
"Don't worry jeeju," Mihika giggled. "Women are always better when it comes to colors."
"By the way, before I forget," Ishita intervened. "I came to tell you guys that Mani just messaged me. He's asking for help unpacking. I told him we could come tomorrow over the weekend. Is that okay?"
"Works with me Akka. I'll ask Mihir and Bala jeeju if they're available too. The more hands the better."
"Raman, will you be able to come?" Ishita asked.
Unease crawled under his skin. He did not like Mani. There was no logical reason why. He just didn't like him.
"I might. I'll see tomorrow," he replied. He didn't want to say no without a legitimate reason. But he didn't want to say yes either.
"Papa, can you pass me that green color?" Ruhi asked. Raman passed a tube of paint.
"Papa!" Ruhi chided him. "This is emerald green! I want forest green!"
"Oh not again..." Raman sighed.
.....................................................................................................................
Mani's new house - the next day, Saturday, 2 pm
"What are these boxes Mani?" Vishwa asked.
"Those three are full of kitchen appliances and vessels," he replied.
"Okay, Madhu and I'll start setting up the kitchen then."
"Mihir and I can work on the bathroom," Mihika suggested.
"Um... okay then, these four boxes are all bathroom supplies. Towels, napkins, toiletries and such."
"What about the bedroom?" Ishita asked.
"Bala jeeju is working there. He's putting together the bed."
Madhu, Vishwa, Mihika, Mihir, Bala, and Ishita had come over to Mani's new house after lunch to help him unpack and set up his new house. The responsibilities had been divided: Madhu and Vishwa unpacked the kitchen supplies; Mihir and Mihika set up the bathroom; and Bala worked on the bedroom. That left Ishita and Mani.
"What can I do, Mani?" she asked.
"We can start in the living room I guess. The sofas and TV are moved in, but we have all the shelves and decorative pieces to install."
"All right then, let's do this!"
Ishita tucked the pallu of her saree into her waist, and she and her friend began unpacking the first box.
"Where do you want this shelf?" Ishita asked.
"Um... I was thinking on the far end of that wall." Mani pointed to the north east corner of the living room. "And these photo frames can be perched on the shelf. I'll get the screws and screwdriver."
They began installing the shelf as they chatted about their plans for the weekend.
"I was thinking about taking Aliya and Nirvaan sightseeing," Mani mentioned. "India Gate and Red Fort and all... Hopefully get them acquainted with the city."
"That's a good idea Mani. I've seen some of those places. They're really interesting to learn about, their history, their architecture. The kids will love it. Where are they right now? I didn't see them when I came in."
"They're at the neighbors' place. They have kids of a similar age so I was hoping they'd make friends. What about you? Do you have any plans this weekend?"
"Not really... We have to start booking vendors for Mihika and Mihir's wedding. Other than that, it's just grocery shopping and the regular errands. Oh, and I need to buy watercolors and acrylic paints for Ruhi. She asked for some yesterday. Aur usne tab se zid pakdi hai ki aaj ke aaj paints laa kar do," Ishita chuckled.
"Ruhi matlab tumhaare husband ki beti, right?" Mani asked.
Ishita sighed. When will the world finally accept that Ruhi was her daughter, genetics be damned? She finished screwing the last bolt on the shelf and turned to her friend with her hands on her hips.
"Wrong. Woh meri beti hai. In fact, woh sabse pehle meri beti hai. Pata hai, main Raman ki patni baad mein bani. Sabse pehle main Ruhi ki maa bani thi."
"Matlab?" Mani asked, quizzically.
Ishita bit her tongue. She didn't want to reveal much about Raman and Ruhi's past, especially when it was none of anyone else's business.
"I just meant that Ruhi jitni Raman ki beti hai, utni hi meri beti hai. Shaayad usse zyada. I'm the only mother she's ever known."
"I see."
Mani and Ishita began setting photo frames and art pieces on the shelf.
"Raman has another kid too, right?" Mani asked. "I heard he was a father of two."
"Haan, unka bada beta hai, Aditya. He's almost 10 years old."
"Unka beta? Matlab woh tumhara beta nahi hai? Ruhi aur Adi ke saath tumhaare equation mein itna fark kyun?"
Ishita had no reply. There was no doubt in her mind that she loved Adi. She loved Raman, so by extension she loved his son. She loved Ruhi, so by extension she loved her brother. But did she have the right to call him her own son? Adi already had a mother, a mother he loved with all his heart, a mother he defended with his life. He may have started being civil with her, but he had given no indication that he would ever accept her as a mother figure. Her eyes lost their light and her smile dropped.
Mani caught the forlorn look in his friend's eyes... and misinterpreted it. Why did she look so solemn at the mention of her stepson? Was she not accepted and loved as a stepmother? Unhappy with being stuck in a position she hadn't wanted in the first place? Was she weighed down with the burden of relationships she had never asked for?
He knew how selfless of a woman she was. Even as a kid, he'd hardly ever heard her complain. Even when she'd been stuck in group project doing all the work on her own. Even when she was handed chores and duties she dreaded. She did all the work that needed to be done.
She had obviously accepted the hand that fate had dealt her. After being rejected by Subbu, she had accepted this marriage to a father of two children in a culturally different family, but her face betrayed how happy she pretended to be. His heart fell and his misconception grew.
"Okay, yeh saare photos set ho gaye ho, then we can start installing the next shelf," Ishita suggested, adorning a smile on her face again.
They set to work installing the rest of the shelves, setting up and decorating the living room, as the rest of the family worked on other rooms of the house. Four hours later, once most of the house had been unpacked, they all gathered in the living room, the chill A/C breeze cooling down their sweaty limbs.
"Oh my god, I think I just had a grueling workout," Mihika groaned, clutching and stretching her sore arms. "I totally forgot how much I hated unpacking."
"Mani kanna, your kitchen is all set, okay?" Madhu said. "All the dishes, pots, and pans have been put away. And I stocked your pantry with grains and pulses and masalas too."
"And both your and the kids' beds are assembled. The bedroom and bathroom is pretty much done. You just have to put all the clothes away in the closet," Bala mentioned.
Mani breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you all so so much. You all have been such a big help." He folded his hands in gratitude, thankful for all the help he had as he settled in a new country.
"Come on Mani," Vishwa interrupted him. "No need to thank us. We're like your family only. You can ask for help any time."
Mani nodded. "Well, it's past six. Do you guys want to join me and kids for dinner or do you have plans?" he asked.
"I don't know about everyone else, but Ishita has plans," a stern but calm voice sounded from the front door.
They all turned to the door and were pleasantly surprised at Raman's arrival. Ishita's face glowed up like a 400-watt bulb.
"Hey Raman!" Bala gave him one of those manly hugs with a pat on the back and invited him inside.
Raman waved to the rest of the room and shook Mani's hand. Raman hadn't planned on coming. When Ishita had left after lunch, he had decided to stay back on the pretext of looking after Ruhi. He had no interest in going to Mani's place, but he also didn't have a sane reason to stop his wife from going. She was his friend after all, helping him unpack and settle in a new country after a tragedy had wrecked his life. What problem could be possibly have with that? But he could only stay away for so long. Ruhi was missing her mother, and he was missing his wife. That was reason enough to go pick her up. So he had hopped into his car and driven over to bring her back home. And by the looks of it, he had arrived just in time, for Mani was looking to make dinner plans with his Ishita.
"What do you mean Ishita has plans?" Mani asked, vexed at Raman's arrogance. How could he make the decision on his wife's behalf without even asking her?
"I mean, Ishita can't join you for dinner today. Ruhi is waiting for her mother at home for dinner. Sorry for ruining your plans."
Mani ground his teeth together. "It's okay I suppose. Some other time, right Ishu?"
"Right Mani," Ishita replied. "Some other time. Abhi main chalti hoon. Ruhi mera intezaar kar rahi hogi."
She waved goodbye to her family and walked over to her husband, gently placing a palm on his arm.
"Is Ruhi all right?" she asked.
"She's fine, madrasan. She was just missing you. You know her, she's not going to have dinner until you come home. I can manage to feed her when you're working late but she knows you're not at work. So she demands your presence at dinner."
"Then let's go home, Raman. On the way we can stop to buy her watercolors too."
Raman stepped out the front door and descended the steps of the porch. Ishita put on her sandals in the foyer and followed him. Just as she took the first step, the strap of her sandal snapped and her foot slipped on the step. Her ankle twisted at an awkward angle, pain exploded in her foot, and a scream ripped from her throat. "Ahh!"
"Ishu!"
"Akka!"
At the sound of his wife's voice, Raman turned around just in time to catch her mid-fall.
"Ishita!" He caught her around her waist and stumbled back, helping her down the stairs. "Kya hua? Giri kaise tum?!" he yelled, voice laced with concern. Ishita winced in pain and Raman's heart twisted.
She limped forward with an arm around Raman's shoulder. "My sandal's strap broke. I think... I think I've twisted my ankle."
"Kya yaar Madrasan!" Raman yelled, his pulse going wild. "Tujhe apna zara bhi khayal nahi hai kya?! Tum ne us din apna haath jala liya, aur aaj yeh? Dhyan kahan hai tumhara?!"
By now everyone had gathered around Ishita, concern evident on their faces.
"Aiyyo Ishu kanna, kya ho gaya? Tum thik to ho na?" Madhu asked, worried for her daughter.
"Thik hoon main amma," Ishita said. Her voice was steady, but her foot still throbbed with pain.
"Thik kaise ho tum?!" Raman yelled at her. "You've twisted your damn ankle! You could've fallen and gotten seriously hurt! You could've broken your leg! You could've fallen down and hurt your head-"
"Raman, I'm fine," she whispered, interrupting his tirade.
Ishita had mastered the art of hiding her pain, but it didn't work on her husband. He could pick up on the tension in her muscles, the low hisses of pain, the squinting of her eyes, even as she kept her face neutral and voice steady. Raman could see, bright as day, that his love was in pain, and he couldn't tolerate it.
"Shut up!" he yelled again. "You're not fine. I don't want to hear it!"
Ishita smiled, even as another stab of pain lanced through her ankle. She didn't want her husband worrying for her, but she couldn't deny how warm and fuzzy she felt seeing him this worried. She had never seen anyone this frantic for her.
"Enough Raman," Mani interrupted. "You don't need to shout at her. She said she's fine."
Raman glared at Mani in disapproval and rage. What did this guy think of himself? Who was he to say Ishita was fine? She was clearly in pain! How could he not see it? And if he couldn't, who was he to speak in between him and his wife? That sealed it. He definitely did not like this guy.
"Please, do not interrupt me Mani." He turned to his wife. "Come on Ishita. I'm taking you home. Doctor ko bhi ghar pe bula lenge."
"Raman, uski koi zaroorat nahi hai. I don't need a doctor."
"Yes, you do. I'm not going to hear any arguments about that."
"Raman is right beta," Vishwa said.
"Akka, for once just listen to jeeju without putting up a fight. Please," Mihika implored. "Just let a doctor check your ankle."
"Okay fine," Ishita conceded. "Lekin doctor ko ghar pe bulane ki kya zaroorat hai? Hum log kisi clinic pe chalte hai na?"
"Absolutely not. I'm not going to let you sit uncomfortably for hours in a waiting room, only to have a doctor look at you for ten minutes and send you away with a couple painkillers. I'm taking you home. By the time we get there and get you situated in the bedroom, the doctor should be there."
Before Ishita could protest any further, Raman lifted her into his arms in a bridal carry. Ishita gasped in embarrassment even as she tightened her arms around his neck.
"Raman, what are you doing? Amma-Appa are right here!" she whispered in shock.
Raman didn't give a damn. His wife was hurt. The rest of the world could go to hell for all he cared. He carried Ishita to his car and set her down in the back seat. He guided her to sit sideways, stretching her legs out along the seat, gingerly elevating her ankle to make her as comfortable as possible. Once he was convinced she was seated comfortably enough, he sat down in the driver's seat and slammed the door shut. He turned on the car and floored the gas as he drove his wife home.
"Ishu will be fine Madhu," Vishwa assured his wife. They were getting ready to leave as well. "Raman will take care of her."
The lines of concern between Madhu's brows vanished, but Mani wasn't convinced. He couldn't condone how much Raman had yelled and shouted at Ishu. She said it herself, she wasn't hurt badly. What was the need to shout at her then? He shook his head in disapproval. What kind of a marriage was Ishita in?
.....................................................................................................................
Ishita and Raman's bedroom - 9 pm
"I'm done Raman. Aur nahi khaana." Ishita leaned back on the bed and pushed away the plate her husband held.
"Come on Madrasan. Just have some more na, please?" Raman presented another morsel of roti and bhindi masala hoping to feed her some more.
"Raman, I'm not in the mood. You don't have to do this."
"Ishita, ab tum Ruhi jaisi zid kar rahi ho. Tumhe baad mein dawaai bhi leni hai. To acche se khaana to padega na?"
Ishita sighed. Raman had been hovering around her for three hours now. The doctor had bandaged her foot two hours ago and had even given her the green light to walk around as long as she used a crutch to keep the weight off her twisted ankle. But Raman insisted she stay on bed rest for the night.
"Come on, finish this last roti and then I'll leave you alone," Raman coaxed.
Ishita lost the fight and opened her mouth to eat the morsel Raman fed her. Ten minutes later, she had wiped the plate clean. Raman put away the plate in the kitchen and returned with a glass of water and a couple painkillers.
"Here, yeh painkillers le lo toh dard kam ho jaayega." He handed her the painkillers and glass of water, which Ishita gulped down.
Raman set the glass aside. "Ab kaisa lag raha hai tumhe?" he asked.
"I'm better Raman. Monday tak to ekdum thik ho jaaungi," she replied.
Raman sat down beside his wife and intertwined his fingers with hers. He was scared. Scared of how deep his love was, scared of how his heart thundered out of control seeing her hurt. He didn't even have the words to express it.
Ishita scooted closer to her husband, so close that even air couldn't pass through. He was worried. She could see it. And as much as she loved witnessing her husband's care and concern, she couldn't see him like this. She snaked her free hand up his chest, caressed his cheek, and turned his face towards her.
"Raman, I'm okay," she whispered.
Instinctively, Raman let go of her other hand and wrapped her in a hug. "You better be okay, madrasan. I hate seeing you hurt."
He pulled her back and pressed a long, hard kiss to her forehead, pouring every ounce of his love and fear into the gesture. Ishita sighed in pleasure.
"Ishimaa?" Ruhi knocked on their door and creaked it open, causing Raman and Ishita to spring apart.
"Mumma? How are you feeling now?"
Ruhi walked to the foot of their bed. She stood in her pajamas, a picture book clutched in her hand, her lips pouted and big eyes shimmering with concern for her mother. Mumma had been in her room all night. Dadi and Paati had assured her and Papa was taking care of her mother, but she needed to see for herself. Ishimaa was hurt, and she had to take care of her mother.
"Mumma is perfectly all right baccha," Ishita replied. "Come here." She opened her arms and her daughter climbed onto the bed into her arms. Ishita hugged her daughter tight in her lap.
"Aap ke leg mein abhi bhi pain hai?" Ruhi asked.
"Ekdum thoda sa. Zyada nahi. Aur woh bhi kal tak thik ho jaayega."
"Woh thoda sa pain bhi main ek minute mein bhagaa dungi! Look, yeh meri taraf se huggy..." Ruhi tightened her arms around her mother's chest. "...aur yeh meri taraf se kissy!" She pulled back and smacked a kiss on her mother's cheek.
"Awww thank you baby! Ishimaa ko unki beti se huggy aur kissy mil gayi to aur kya chahiye?! Ab to main bilkul thik ho gayi!"
Ishita squeezed her daughter tight, raining kisses on her cheek until she wiped away every trace of concern and worry from her face.
"Baby, aaj main aur papa aap ke watercolors laana to bhul hi gaye," Ishita realized. "Sorry Ru."
"Don't worry about it Ishimaa. Mujhe watercolors nahi chahiye. Mujhe surf aap chahiye." Ruhi rested her head on Ishita's shoulder.
"Don't worry Ru," Raman spoke up. "Papa kal aap ke watercolors le kar aayenge."
"Okay papa." Ruhi lifted her head and spoke to her mother. "Mumma, abhi aap so jao. Aaj main aapko story sunaaungi. Aap ko chot lagi hai na? To aap sirf rest karo," Ruhi urged.
She moved off her mother's lap and sat between her parents. Ishita lied down at Ruhi's behest and her daughter began reading her storybook. As she turned the pages and narrated the tale of Aladdin and his lamp, Ishita marveled at how mature her daughter was becoming day by day. She was feisty, demanding, and even stubborn as rocks, but her heart was as big as it could get, full of warmth and love and innocence.
As the story ended, Ishita drifted off into sleep. Raman switched off the light and lied down along with Ruhi. While Ruhi continued patting Ishita's back lulling her to sleep, Raman gazed at his girls lovingly, delighting in how much his daughter was taking after her mother.
.....................................................................................................................
Mayur Vihar Community Park - one week later, Saturday March 29, 10 am
"Mamu, pass me the ball! I'm wide open!" Adi shouted.
Mihir kicked the football to Adi, who sidestepped Bala and kicked the ball right into the goal past their goalkeeper Romi.
"YES!" Mihir jumped up and punched the air in delight. "That's the third goal by Adi and our team wins! Again!"
Mihir, Adi, Shravu, and Neil gathered together in a group hug, high-fiving and fist-bumping each other at their second victory of the day.
"Kya yaar Romi?!" Raman yelled at his brother, stomping to him in anger. "You've missed every single one of Adi's goals, man!"
"To main kya karun bhai? Yeh Adi itni zor se kick maarta hai!" Romi shouted defensively.
"Aur Bala, tune kya kiya?" Raman turned his attention to his brother-in-law. "Adi tere naak ke neeche se ball le gaya aur tujhe pata bhi nahi chala?"
"Raman, what can I do? He was just so fast," Bala answered.
Adi burst out in laughter at his father's and uncle's arguments. He was still in the process of getting comfortable with his family. But this football field was his turf. When he played, the ball was an extension of his body. He shared one mind with his teammates, working like a well-oiled machine. And nothing could keep him from his element.
"All right! That's it! I demand a change in teams!" Raman announced. "This arrangement is rigged."
"Oh cut the crap bhai, just say you want Adi in your team, right?" Mihir put his arm around Adi's shoulder, protecting his fellow teammate.
"He's right Raman bhai," Neil interjected. "Nothing is rigged. You just want our best player on your team."
"So what if I do? He's my son!" Raman replied.
"Okay let's do one thing," Bala suggested. "Ek team Adi ki, ek team Shravu ki. Aur woh dono choose karenge apni team. First team to score three goals wins, just like last time."
"Fine."
"Okay."
"Agreed."
Five minutes later, new teams had been formed. Adi's team included Raman and Romi, while Shravu's team included Bala, Mihir, and Pathak. The next game started with Bala's whistle. Mihir made the first goal, followed by Adi making the second one, putting the teams at a one point tie. Pathak made the next goal after a grueling fifteen minutes putting Shravu's team at a one point advantage.
Raman had the ball next. He ran across the field, kicking the ball forward as he barrelled towards the goal.
"Dad! Pass me the ball!" Adi shouted to his father. "I'm closer to the goal!"
Raman kicked the ball to his son, but his sense of direction was off. Instead the ball flew to Mihir, who kicked it to the opposite goal, scoring their third goal and winning the game.
"Yes! We won!" Shravu screamed in joy, jumping and hugging his teammates.
Adi kicked his foot in disappointment and ran to his dad.
"Papa! Yeh kya kiya aap ne?! Kahan ball pohcha diya?" he asked angrily.
"Beta, I got blinded by the sun and lost my sense of direction a bit. Sorry man."
"It's a cloudy sky dad! Where is this sun you got blinded by?"
"Abey galti ho gayi yaar, ab kya meri jaan lega?! Baap hu main! Mujhe mat sikha!" he replied, a playful undertone in his defensive voice.
Adi planted his hands on his hips and replied with a smirk, "Aapne abhi tak ek bhi goal nahi kiya papa. Aur maine teen goals kiye hai. To phir bete ko hi baap ko sikhana padega, na?"
Raman lifted an eyebrow, surprised but pleased at his son's sudden show of confidence. "Ruk ja beta. Ab teri khair nahi."
"Adi bhaag!" Romi and Mihir yelled, their smiles going from ear to ear.
Raman chased Adi through the grass, Adi's squeals of laughter sounding in the field with Raman at his heels, his heart singing with joy.
.....................................................................................................................
Two hours later - 12 pm
The group of boys had now taken a break from football as they slurped on golas (Indian snow cones) on the road alongside the park.
"Look at this!" Mihir turned his phone around and showed a picture to the group. "Apparently this is what the girls do when we're not around."
It was a picture from Mihika. Ruhi stood in the middle of the Bhalla living room, with a karaoke mike in her hand, as she sang the lyrics to her newest favorite song. Ishita, Rinki, Simi, and Ananya surrounded her on the sofa, clapping to the beat of the song.
"Please tell me they sent videos," Romi said, voice full of hope.
"Oh, Mihika is sending them. Wait."
They watched about five or six videos of the ladies singing karaoke. Ruhi sang a medley of Disney songs. Rinki and Simi sang a duet of their favorite Punjabi beats. Mihika chose the latest romantic Bollywood track to sing to. The last video was Ishita singing a Tamil song, which Raman watched three times.
Eventually, when Mihir succeeded in prying his phone out of Raman's hands, they returned their attention to their ever-melting golas. Amidst the chaos, Bala tugged Raman aside for a quick chat.
"Raman, can we talk?"
"Sure Bala, what's up? Everything okay with Vandu? And the baby?" Raman asked.
"Yeah yeah, everything's great with both of them. Nothing to worry about. I was actually hoping to talk about Adi."
Raman lowered his orange gola, his guard going up, his head turned up in attention.
"Is everything okay with him?"
"On the surface, yes. He's doing good in school and in my class. And I can see that he's beginning to gel in with your family too."
"I can feel a 'but' coming."
"But I still think he should seek therapy, talk to a professional."
Raman choked on the air in his throat. He wasn't an expert in mental health. But he knew enough to take it seriously. He had a slight inkling before he had met Adi that he may need a professional's help. But in the two months that he had known him, he seemed to be improving. Or so he thought.
"Are you serious, Bala? He seems to be doing well. He looks happy. Is it really necessary?" Raman looked over at his son who animatedly talked with Shravu as they debated the best gola and ice cream flavors.
"I would say it is needed, Raman," Bala persisted. "He looks happy on the surface but we don't know what he's going through on the inside. He isn't as confident as the rest of his peers in class. He's lived in split homes his entire lives. On top of that, we have to think of the toxicity Shagun has been spewing on him all these years. The effect that kind of abuse leaves on an impressionable child can only be dealt by a professional."
Raman gulped. He hated to think of his son being in pain, being shy and reserved and sunken into a shell. Bala was right.
"Okay I get it Bala. You're right. Do you know any child psychologists or therapists in town? I don't know where to begin looking for one."
"There is a full-time psychologist at our university. She specializes in child and teen psychology. I'll send you her details."
"Thanks Bala." A moment of silent introspection passed. "But Bala, will Adi agree to go see her?"
"I don't know Raman. It's up to you to convince him."
"I'll convince him. Hopefully Shagun doesn't make a scene of it."
"No one says you have to tell her, Raman," Bala said. "Everything Adi discusses with the psychologist will be confidential. Even the fact that he's seeing the psychologist will be confidential. If Adi doesn't want Shagun to know, then she won't know."
"Okay, that's good. That's good."
Raman made a firm resolve to somehow convince Adi to talk to the psychologist. His confidence was shot and he needed a professional to bring him out of his shell. They all loved him unconditionally, but he needed to believe that he deserved that love and would be secure in it forever. He thought of his daughter. The fiery passion she held, the stubbornness she portrayed, along with the empathy and maturity she showed even at such a young age. It all came from how secure she felt in her parents' and her family's love. Adi was mature, no doubt. He had seen that in the time he'd known him, the questions he asked, the civility with which he now interacted with Ishita, the woman his mother had bad mouthed to no end. But now, Adi deserved to be a kid again. He had been forced to grow up too soon; he deserved to have his childhood returned.
"Bhai!" Romi's booming voice broke Raman's train of thought. "Maa ka message hai. Hum sab ko lunch ke liye ghar bulaya hai."
"All right, let's go. Pathak, tu bhi chal saath mein. Trisha ko bhi ghar bula le. Use mile bahot time ho gaya hai."
"Thik hai bhai," Neil chuckled.
And thus, the group of boys returned home.
.....................................................................................................................
Bluebird Business Seminar - a few days later, Thursday April 3rd, 11 am
Raman rolled his shoulders and massaged his neck, straining against the awkward and uncomfortable chair he had been sitting in for the past three hours. He hated seminars like these. They were long, boring, and rarely had any information of real value to offer. It was usually some airheaded rich guy talking about his struggles establishing a business that he had half inherited from his father and was half funded by his mother. God forbid they let an actual self-made businessman talk about his journey. Or better yet, a female CEO or a queer start-up founder or a financially disadvantaged businessman talking about their journey overcoming the obstacles stacked against them. Anything to introduce more diversity; anything other than enduring these monotonous, egotistical men sing their own praises.
He would much rather be at the office getting real work done, but this seminar was a necessary evil. Every business and company had sent a representative, which meant Raman had to send someone from his company too. Unfortunately, through some odd twist of fate, he had to come himself on behalf of his company. Romi had his final exams and that damn Mihir had escaped with his fianceé to finalize their wedding venue.
After an hour-long speech that had him rubbing his eyes, the seminar finally ended. Instantly, his phone chimed and his foul mood was fixed. It was a message from his wife.
Ishita: Suresh took the day off. His kid wasn't feeling well. I'm coming to pick you up instead.
Before he replied to his wife, Raman quickly sent a text to his driver asking about his kid's health, and offering any money or days off he needed for his son. Then he opened his chat with Ishita.
Raman: Is your ankle okay?
Ishita: YES. I've said it a million times. My ankle is absolutely fine now. It's been ten days! Just let it go now!
Raman: Okay then. Understood.
Raman: Btw, which car are you driving? Please don't let it be that red khataara of yours.
Ishita: My red car is amazing, okay? Don't say anything against it.
Raman: You didn't answer my question.
Ishita: Yes, I'm coming in my car. My red car. The driver left your car at home and I'm at the clinic. I'm not making a trip to the house just to switch cars.
Raman: Fine, fair enough.
.
.
.
Raman: Come soon. I'm waiting.
Ishita: I'll be there in ten minutes 😊
Lunch had been served. Raman grabbed a chicken burger to take to-go for himself and a veggie burger for his wife. He might as well have lunch with her if she was coming. As he shoved the burgers into his bag and turned towards the exit, he bumped into a six foot tall brick wall.
Raman stumbled back, ready to curse out at Ashok, only to notice an entirely different man.
"Sorry Raman, I didn't see you there. Are you okay?" Mani asked.
"I'm fine. I was in a hurry to leave, so I didn't see you either," Raman replied with as much poise as he could muster. Dammit. Why did all his adversaries have to be so damn tall? First Ashok, then Mani?
His phone chimed.
Ishita: I'm in the parking lot.
Raman: Coming outside in a sec.
"Sorry Mani, I don't have time to chat. I need to go. Ishita's waiting for me outside," Raman said.
"Ishu's here? I'll come with you. Might as well say hi to her. I haven't met her in a few days."
Raman cursed himself. He watched Mani exit the hall and wanted to smack himself upside the head. What was he thinking? How much of an idiot did he have to be to mention that his wife was here? This Mani was turning into the shani of his life.
By the time he arrived in the parking lot, his wife and her friend had struck up a conversation, possibly catching up on their lives. They must have missed so much in the whopping ten days they hadn't met each other, Raman thought sarcastically.
Ishita saw Raman approach them, and in an instant, her attention snapped to her husband.
"Raman!" she exclaimed with delight, her neutral face brightening up like the sun. Raman's chest swelled with pride. Take that, Shani.
"Kaisa tha aap logon ka seminar?" Ishita asked.
"It was a dragfest," Raman said.
"Quite interesting actually," Mani said at the same time.
Ishita burst out laughing. "This just shows how different you both are," she laughed.
"Madrasan, are you ready to go now? Ya aaj ke liye clinic band?" Raman interrupted her.
"Clinic band kyun? Abhi mera sirf lunch break hai. Ek ghante mein waapis jaana hai mujhe," Ishita replied.
"To phir chalo madam. Mujhe office drop karke, phir clinic waapis chali jaana."
"Okay chalo. Bye Mani. Hum log chalte hai." Ishita waved her friend goodbye.
"Yeah, bye Mani," Raman said through gritted teeth.
As the couple walked away, Mani caught the tail end of their conversation.
"Hey bhagwan, ab is khataara car mein jaana padega," Raman groaned. "Madrasan, ek din yeh gaadi kahin band pad gayi na, tab akal thikhaane aayegi tumhaari."
"Us din ke liye aap ho na? Dhakka lagana gaadi ko," Ishita teased.
"Haa, yahin kaam reh gaya hai mujhe zindagi mein," Raman muttered. "Main to kehta hoon ab nayi car le lo..."
Mani frowned. Why was Raman so mean to her? Was it really necessary to make fun of her car like that? Ishita had bought that car seven years ago after so much hard work.
As Ishita and Raman drove away, Mani stood there, lost in his thoughts. A tap on his shoulder diverted his attention.
"All okay dude?" the man asked.
"I'm okay. Thanks."
The man stuck out his hand. "I'm Ashok Khanna."
Mani shook his hand. "Abhimanyu Raghav."
"Nice to meet you Abhimanyu. I haven't seen you around. Are you new here?'
"Yeah, I just moved from Turkey."
"Oh nice nice, welcome to Delhi." After a moment's hesitation, Ashok veered into questionable territory. "I saw you talking to Dr. Ishita, Raman Bhalla's wife. Do you know her?"
"Yeah, she's my childhood friend." Mani was still pondering the marriage his friend seemed to be stuck in. Ashok caught the disturbed look on his face.
"You don't seem to be happy about meeting your childhood friend. What's up?"
"No, nothing like that. I'm just weary of her equation with her husband. Whether she's really happy or not..."
Ashok pounced on Mani's doubt like a tiger on prey. He would never let go of a single opportunity to put down his competitor, Raman Bhalla.
"I doubt she is happy, considering how they got married," Ashok mentioned as a casual remark.
"What do you mean?" Mani's ears perked up.
"Oh, I shouldn't... It's probably not my place..." Ashok feigned courtesy.
"Please Ashok, I need to know," Mani insisted.
"Okay. Then here goes. Raman only married Ishita so he could get custody of his daughter Ruhi. It was all a ruse so he could get his daughter back."
"What?!" Mani was shell shocked. "How do you know all this?"
"Ruhi's biological mother, and Raman's ex-wife Shagun, is my fianceé. She and I were on the other side of the Ruhi custody case. It was Shagun and me versus Raman Bhalla. To up his chances of winning custody, he married Ishita quietly and dropped the bomb on us on the day of the custody trial. He completely blindsided us. Obviously the court then sided with Ishita since Ruhi was quite attached to her. Otherwise, Raman would've lost the case. He only married her out of convenience. Just for Ruhi."
"I... I don't believe this..." Mani gaped.
"I know... It's hard to believe, but that's the truth. Poor woman though. Trapped in a loveless marriage with an angry, rude man like Raman. It took Shagun six years to escape her marriage with that man. God knows if Ishita will ever be able to get out..."
Ashok spewed his last comments and slithered away, pleased with the fire ignited in Mani's head by the match he had struck.
Mani shook his head and sighed out loud in disappointment. His doubts had been solidified. He knew it beyond a doubt: Ishu deserved better.
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Parking lot of Raman's office - 11:30 am
"Yeh lijiye. Aa gaya aap ka office." Ishita shifted the gear of her car to park and faced her husband in the passenger seat.
Raman reached under the seat and lifted his bag, placing it in his lap. "Tumhaare lunch break mein kitna time baaki hai?" he asked.
"I have half an hour left. Abhi waapis jaakar lunch karungi."
"Agar waqt hai to mere saath hi lunch karo na? Yahin par?" He removed the two wrapped burgers he had stowed away into his bag at the conference. "I have a chicken burger for me and a veggie burger for you."
"To phir main jo ghar se lunch le kar aayi hoon, uska kya?" Ishita asked.
"Woh apne staff room ke fridge mein rakh dena. Baad mein khaana. Here." Raman shoved the burger into Ishita's hand before she could refute any further. These quiet moments with each other were rare, and he'd take any opportunity he could to create even the tiniest, most basic memories with her.
They unwrapped their burgers and dug in. At the very first bite, Ishita raised her eyebrows in surprise. The burger was actually quite tasty. Not too dry, just the right amount of spice, and a great combination of toppings. Although she would have preferred less ketchup. It was getting all over her fingers.
It was a quiet scene, both husband and wife stealing a silent moment of peace and companionship in the midst of their chaotic lives. Ishita turned on the radio of her car, tuning into her favorite radio station. Their favorite singer's melodious voice diffused through the car.
Kaun Kehta Hai Mohabbat Ki Zubaan Hoti Hai,
Ye Haqiqat To Nigaahon Se Bayaan Hoti Hai
It was true, Ishita mused. There was no language to love. It was a universal truth expressed from the eyes. She gazed over at her husband, her own eyes glowing from said universal emotion. Sensing the weight of her gaze, Raman looked to his right and caught Ishita's eyes.
"Kya hua?" he asked, raising his eyebrows. "Kuch hai mere chehre pe?"
"Kuch nahi," Ishita replied. She returned her attention to her burger. Raman did not. His eyes were trained on a much more delectable sight.
Vo Na Aaye To Sataati Hai Khalish Si Dil Ko,
Vo Jo Aaye To Khalish Aur Javaan Hoti Hai
They finished the last bites of their respective burgers, basking in their quiet moment together. Ishita threw away her and Raman's burger wrappers in a plastic bag.
"Raman, yeh apne office ke dustbin mein daal dena." She threw in the last few napkins and crumbled receipts lying around and handed him the plastic bag. "Jab aap upar jaaye-" Suddenly her eyes met his and goosebumps erupted all over her body. Her husband was staring at her, unblinking, his eyes fixated on her... lips.
He raised his arm and reached for her face. He brushed her cheek with the pad of his thumb, moving his hand lower and lower, until his thumb reached the corner of her mouth. Ishita's skin burned from the contact, as her eyes bounced from his hand to his face.
Ruuh Ko Shaad Kare Dil Ko Jo Puranuur Kare,
Har Nazaare Mein Ye Tanviir Kahaan Hotii Hai
Raman swiped his thumb at the corner of her lips, awakening fire on and scorching her skin. As he retrieved his thumb and lowered his gaze, Ishita saw the red viscous substance on his hand, realizing with embarrassment that she had ketchup on her face. But what really caused her heart to spin out of control was what he did next. Her husband parted his lips and sucked the ketchup clean off his thumb. The intimacy of the gesture had her insides squirming in delight.
Zabt-e-sailaab-e-mohabbat Ko Kahaan Tak Roke,
Dil Mein Jo Baat Ho Aankhon Se Ayaan Hoti Hai
"Waise Ishita, seriously ek baat puchu?" Raman asked, licking the remnants of ketchup from his fingers.
"Haan puchiye," Ishita said, trying her best to keep her voice even.
"Yeh gaadi itni puraani hai, to nayi kyun nahi leti? Ise bhi tumne second-hand khareeda tha. Let me gift a new car."
"Mujhe nayi gaadi ki zaroorat nahi hai, Raman. Yeh gaadi acche se chal toh rahi hai."
"Abhi chal rahi hai madrasan, lekin jaise din guzarte jaayenge, yeh kharaab bhi ho sakti hain. It won't be safe to drive then."
"Raman, this car was my first big purchase that I made with my own money. Even if it was second-hand. I don't want to let go of it," she pouted.
Raman sighed. This wasn't an unfounded stubbornness of Ishita. She prided herself on being independent, earning her own money as well as supporting her family with it. This car was a symbol of that pride. But maybe... maybe he could find a middle ground.
Zindagi Ek Sulagati Si Chitaa Hai "sahir",
Sholaa Banti Hai Na Ye Bhuj Ke Dhuaan Hotii Hai
"Fine Ishita, but if you want to keep the car, then I have a condition," Raman said.
"What's that?" Ishita raised an eyebrow.
"Let's get your car renovated. New engine and battery, oil change, repainting, the works. That way it will be almost brand new, but still the same car."
Ishita opened her mouth to argue with him further, but she found no reason to refuse. Her car was due to be serviced anyway. Might as well get it renovated and fixed.
"Okay, fine. We can do that. In a couple weeks maybe," Ishita conceded.
"Thank god, Jhansi ki Rani maani to sahi," Raman laughed, earning a soft punch on his arm.
"Jaayiye abhi, office mein jaa kar kuch kaam kar lo. Aur yeh plastic ki theli dustbin mein daal dijiyega."
Raman opened his door and stepped out of the car. "Bye madrasan! Have fun breaking people's teeth!" He slammed the door shut and winked at his wife through the window, chuckling as he walked up the steps of his office building.
"Ravan kumar kahin ke," Ishita muttered, her irritating tone in complete contrast with the bashful smile on her face.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7coH7SImyzk
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Edited by Aditi_X - 2 years ago
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