Part 47
Bhalla House - three days later, Friday April 11, 5 pm
“Okay Ruhi, now how do you spell ‘white’?” Ishita asked.
“W-H-I-T-E. White,” Ruhi recited.
“Good. What about ‘bring’?”
“B-R-I-N-G. Bring.”
“Plane.” Ishita continued quizzing Ruhi’s spelling.
“P-L-A-N-E. Plane.”
“Funny.”
“F-U-N-Y. No wait! F-U-N-N-Y. Funny.” Ruhi corrected her error. “Ishimaa, ab main khelne jaau?” she pleaded.
“No baby. Next week aapke exams haina? Thodi aur padhai karni padegi.”
Ruhi frowned even as her mother continued with her spelling bee. They were seated on the couch of her parents’ bedroom, Ruhi situated in her mother’s lap as she was drilled on spelling words, science questions, and grammar rules.
“Okay, now one last bonus word. Can you spell ‘because’?” Ishita asked.
“Um… B-E-C-U- No wait… B-E-C-A-U-S-E. Because,” Ruhi replied.
“Wow, great job baby. Aap ne to bonus word bhi sahi spell kiya.”
“To ab main khelne jaau? Pleeeease?” Ruhi pouted her lips and made a pleading face at her mother. “Society ke saare kids niche khel rahe hai.”
Ishita sighed. “Okay beta. Jaao. Padhai hum kal karenge.”
Ruhi leapt off her mother’s lap and dashed out of the house rushing downstairs to join her fellow kids in play, as her mother watched her from the bedroom’s balcony. Once Ishita was assured that Ruhi had reached the compound safely, she sat down on the sofa to put away Ruhi’s books and her other school supplies in her backpack.
As she was focused on zipping the compartments of Ruhi’s backpack shut, she didn’t notice her husband joining her on the couch until she felt the sofa dip with his weight. He dropped his laptop bag onto the table in front of him and leaned back, loosening his tie and groaning in exhaustion.
“Aa gaye aap office se? Kaisa raha din?” Ishita asked, as she slid Ruhi’s closed backpack beside Raman’s laptop bag.
“Thik hi tha. Ab yeh Tokyo ka project shuru ho gaya hai to kaam waapis badh gaya hai.” He rubbed his eyes together and leaned forward to face his wife. It was only then that he noticed the stiffness in her posture and the nervous bounce of her knee. “Tumhe kya hua? Kisi baat ka tension?”
Ishita turned her head and faced her husband. “Tension kaise nahi hai? Aap bhool gaye? Next week Ruhi ki exams shuru ho rahi hai!”
“Main kuch nahi bhoola. Lekin shaayad tum bhul gayi.”
“Kya bhul gayi main?”
“Yahin, ki maine kal raat ko Ruhi ka practice test liya tha aur usne 90% se zyada jawaab sahi diye the. She’s ready for next week. Just relax.”
“I know, I know… Abhi bhi mere saath practice karte waqt saare jawaab sahi diye the usne. Phir bhi… thodi si tension to rahegi na?” Ishita leaned forward, her knee bouncing with nervous energy. Her hair clip came loose and several strands of her hair slipped out and wisped around her face.
“Uski board exam nahi hai madrasan, jo itni tension le rahi hai.” Raman lifted his hand to tuck the stray strands of hair behind her ear. “She’ll be fine. Don’t worry about her.”
Even as Ishita’s taut body relaxed from her husband’s touch, her knee continued bouncing. Raman caressed her cheek languorously and lowered his hand to rest on her thigh. The warm weight of said hand finally stilled her shaking leg. His hand rested there almost carelessly, as if it were its most natural home.
“Adi ki bhi exams hogi na next week?” Ishita asked. His hand remained on her thigh, unmoving.
“Haan. Main mummy-papa ke saath use kal milne gaya tha, uske football practice ke baad. Tab usne bataya tha. Usne kaha to sahi ki uski taiyyari sahi chal rahi hai, lekin…”
“Lekin kya?” Ishita picked up on a hint of uncertainty in Raman’s eyes. “Kya hua?”
“Mujhe nahi lagta us ghar mein uski padhai ya uski parvarish par koi bhi sahi dhyaan de raha hoga. I want him out of that house. I want him here, with us, at home.”
“Baat to aapki sahi hai Raman, lekin hum Adi ko ghar laayenge kaise? Kya Shagun cooperate karegi? Kya Adi khud maanega?”
“Ek idea hai mere paas. Dekh, agle hafte dono bacchon ki exams hai. Phir summer vacation shuru hoga. To kyun na hum Adi ko vacation ke liye ghar le kar aaye? Mihir ki shaadi bhi hai alge mahine. To isi bahaane woh shaadi ke har function mein bhi rahega. Adi uske mama ki shaadi bhi attend kar lega aur vacation bhi humaare saath spend kar lega.”
“Aur Shagun? Woh maan jaayegi?”
“Usko to kisi na kisi tarah se handle kar lenge. Waise bhi I’m not asking her for custody or anything. I’m just asking that Adi spend his summer vacation with us. By the end of it, we can talk about altering the custody agreement. By then Adi will also be comfortable living with us. And hopefully we can talk about keeping him here. Permanently.”
Even as he planned aloud with his wife, Raman’s eyes shimmered with hope. His son would finally come live with him. An elusive dream of five long years would finally come true.
“I think that’s a great idea Raman.” Ishita leaned in and laid her head on his shoulder. “Adi bas ek baar ghar aa jaaye. Phir hum use kahin nahin jaane denge.” She interlaced her fingers with his hand that was on her thigh, rubbing her thumb against his knuckles.
Their proximity to each other had increased tremendously over the last few days. Physical contact and lingering touches now came to them effortlessly, naturally. They had found an entirely new level of comfort with each other, every gulf and gap between them closed. Almost every gulf.
Ishita’s phone chimed with a notification. She lifted her head from her husband’s shoulder and leaned over to the dresser to reach for her phone. It was an email from Dr. Batra. Over the exact same topic they had discussed today.
“Yeh Dr. Batra bhi na…” she groaned as she dropped her phone on the dresser again, rejoining her husband on the couch.
“Kya kiya Dr. Batra ne?” Raman asked, as he leaned back, stretching his arm along the backrest of the sofa.
Ishita pulled her knees up to her chest and rested her feet on the couch, as she turned towards her husband.
“He just emailed me another research proposal. He’s been trying to get me to join one of his projects. In fact, we talked about it at length this morning. But I’m not sure yet…”
“Why not?” Raman his leg and rested his left ankle on his right knee. “You’re not interested in research?”
“It’s not that… I am interested, but can I really afford to take more responsibilities at work right now? Ghar pe family aur bacchon ko meri zaroorat hogi. Aur agar Adi aa raha hai toh us par bhi dhyaan dena padega. Aap ka bhi Tokyo ka contract chal raha hai to phir kaise-”
“Madrasan, don’t worry about all of that. If you’re really passionate about it, then go for it. We’ll figure out the rest. Adi and Ruhi will be taken care of. The entire family will help out. And my work isn’t that time-consuming that I wouldn’t be able to find time for my kids.”
“Par phir bhi-”
“Shhh.” Raman pressed a finger to her lips to stop any argument. “I mean it. Say yes to the research if you really want to do it. We’ll figure out the rest.”
He trailed his finger from her lips to the remaining few strands of hair around her cheek, tucking them behind her ear, leaving goosebumps on the trail his finger left behind.
Ishita’s heart pounded against her rib cage, anticipating his next move. Her gaze bounced from his hand to his eyes to his lips, back and forth, as her anxiety climbed and she bit her lip restlessly. Three days… three days ago, she had been kissed for the first time in her life. She had been kissed by the man she loved. It was one of the best moments of her life, yet the prospect of it happening again made her nervous. She didn’t know why and she didn’t know how to explain it.
It took everything in his being for Raman not to pull his wife closer and kiss her again. Her eyes were locked with his, and she bit her lower lip… and she looked adorable. It had been three days since their first kiss, and it played in his mind on a constant loop. He knew now, for a fact, that his wife loved him. He saw it in her eyes, in her reaction to his touch, in everything she did for him. But he also knew that any form of physical intimacy did not come easily to her. He could see the nervousness in her eyes, the taut form of her backbone.
They hadn’t said a word about their kiss. They hadn’t discussed it, each of them relishing the moment on their own. But even without her saying it, Raman could tell his wife wasn’t ready for anything beyond what their relationship was now: light lingering touches, hugs, and at most kisses on the forehead.
Thus, he firmly resolved not to repeat his stunt from three days ago. He had been overcome with emotion when he had kissed her; uncertainty, fear, doubt, heartbreak, and all-powerful love had been churning into a whirlpool in his heart. But he wouldn’t repeat it again. He’d control himself, until Ishita made the first move. He would guide her, teach her if needed. But only if she initiated it.
He lowered his hand from her face.
“Bhabhi!” Rinki’s voice sounded from her bedroom, distracting Raman and Ishita. “Bhabhi, aapne meri woh stud earrings dekhi hai kahin?!”
“Jaayiye madam, bulava aa gaya,” Raman chuckled.
Ishita tightened her hair clip as she lowered her legs and headed out of her bedroom. “Aa rahi hoon Rinki!”
Raman followed her outside. While Ishita went into Rinki’s room, he joined his brother and father in the living room, watching the latest cricket highlights.
“Kaunsa match chal raha hain papa?” he asked.
“Puttar, wohi wala jo kal rat ko aa raha tha. Bas uske highlights hai.”
“By god Bhai, itna accha match tha kal raat,” Romi interjected, “aapne miss kar diya.”
“Miss karne se yaad aaya beta, mummy bata rahi thi tu agle hafte apne MBA ka graduation nahi attend karne wala. Yeh kya chakkar hai?” Raman asked his brother.
“Graduation kitna boring hota hai bhai. Aapka naam announce hone ke baad bas do ghante baithe raho. Bachelors ki ceremony ke baad mujhe nahi jaana phir se aisi boring ceremony mein. Waise bhi, maine apne doston ke saath alag se celebrate karna hai. Hum apni khud ki party karenge,” Romi winked.
“To phir tumhara MBA ka certificate?”
“Woh main le aaunga registrar ke office se.”
“Thik hai. To phir agle hafte se internship khatam, aur asli naukri chalu. Are you ready?”
“More ready than ever Bhai. Finally, my first paycheck!”
Over in the kitchen, Neelu rolled out parathas and cooked them over the skillet, as Toshi sat at the dining table cutting up tomatoes and cucumbers for the dinner salad.
“Mummyji, aur tel hai?” Neelu asked. “Yeh wala to khatam ho gaya.”
“Utthe hi hai, tu thik se dekh,” Toshi instructed.
“Maine dekha mummyji, nahi hai.”
“Ruk ja do minute. Ishita! Ishita puttar!”
Ishita came rushing out of Rinki’s bedroom. “Kya hua mummyji?”
“Yeh Neelu ko tel ki bottle nahi mil rahi hai. Tune kahan rakhi hai?”
“Rukiye, main deti hoon.”
Ishita joined Neelu in the kitchen and opened a new bottle of oil, helping her cook the rest of the parathas.
Thirty minutes later, dinner was ready. Ishita called Ruhi up from the society compound, and the family settled on the dining table, relishing on aloo gobi (potato & cauliflower curry), kadai chicken, butter parathas, pakora kadhi, and basmati rice.
………………………………………………………………………………………………………
Khanna Mansion - 6 pm
“Mom, can you help me out with these math problems?” Adi asked, his math booklet clutched in one hand and a pencil in the other. His mother was sprawled on the sofa in her pink satin nightgown, her face covered in a face mask, her hair curled and set in place with hair rollers. She leaned back and closed her eyes.
“Adi, I’m busy,” she replied, sighing in relaxation from the face mask.
“Mom please… I need some help. I’m okay with all the rest of my subjects, but math is really hard.”
“Adi, can’t you see mumma is trying to rest here?! Just go upstairs and study by yourself!” she groaned, sipping on her wine glass.
My only one
My smoking gun
Adi faltered in his step as his mother’s words knocked into him. He really needed help. What would he do now? Why was mom always like this? Every time he came for help, she sent him away. Every time he tried to find warmth in her, he found nothing but a cold shoulder.
It’s okay Adi, he told himself. She didn’t mean it. She’ll be fine in a few minutes. And then, when her mood was okay, she’d shower all the love on him. As she always did.
My eclipsed sun
This has broken me down
He turned away from his mother and trudged up the stairs with his booklet and pencil. As he reached his bedroom, he slumped down in his chair and dropped his math booklet on the desk, sighing in frustration. He loved his mother. There was no doubt of that. But he could never do anything to keep her happy. Nothing he did was ever enough. It was a fight he could never win.
My twisted knife
My sleepless night
Adi drummed his pencil on the edge of his desk as he pondered the practice problems on the booklet in front of him. He was only on the first page of the booklet, stuck on decimal multiplication and division problems. He groaned aloud; math was his least favorite subject.
Adi took a deep breath. Regardless of whether he enjoyed math or not, he had to practice. He didn’t have a choice. After all, he had exams next week. He might be alone in his studies but he still couldn’t afford to fall behind.
My win-less fight
This has frozen my ground
He set to work in near-complete silence, the only sound around being the scratching of his pencil on the paper and the white noise of the fan.
Clang! Smash! Screams!
Adi jumped in his skin and dropped his pencil as sudden screams and sounds of glass breaking reached his ears. He was no stranger to these sounds, but still, his brow beaded with sweat, his breathing grew heavy, and his heart pounded with anxiety. Mom and Ashok uncle were fighting. Again.
Stood on the cliffside
Screaming, "Give me a reason"
He drew in a breath and exhaled roughly. He had to ignore it. He had to find a way to tune out the noise so he could focus. He pulled on his headphones and blasted the music to full volume. Drowning out all his worries with Taylor Swift’s voice, he picked up his pencil and set to work. Again.
Your faithless love's the only hoax
I believe in
Don't want no other shade of blue
But you
No other sadness in the world would do
………………………………………………………………………………………………………
“I don’t believe this, Ashok! How could you say that?!” Shagun screamed, throwing her wine glass on the floor, shattering it to pieces. Her best laid plans were unraveling. Her five year long investment was crashing. No… No, this couldn’t be happening.
“Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do, woman! You’ve been nothing but a pain in my ass!” Ashok yelled.
“Oh really?” Shagun crossed her arms against her chest. “That’s not what you thought last night,” she sneered.
My best laid plan
Your sleight of hand
Ashok stomped forward, towering over Shagun who stood in her pink nightgown, face devoid of her face mask. He roughly grabbed her face, squeezing her cheeks with his fingers.
“Listen woman,” Ashok hissed in a deadly voice, “that’s all you’re useful for now. Only in the bedroom. And trust me, I can find much younger prettier women for that. I don’t need you.” He pushed her back, letting go of her face in disgust.
Shagun’s nostrils flared in rage. “If you even think of leaving me Ashok, I’ll make your life a living hell,” she threatened.
“I’d like to see you try.” Ashok grabbed her by the throat and pushed her down on the sofa. “You’re a useless woman. Good for nothing.”
My barren land
I am ash from your fire
Ashok stomped away leaving a crying, raging Shagun on the sofa. In her rage, she grabbed the sofa cushions and threw them down, adding to the broken glass that lay on the floor of the living room.
How could he? She had invested five years in that man, and he had threatened to throw her away like she was nothing. The same man that had wooed her and whisked her away from her ex-husband to a land of paradise, now blurted out that she was of no use to him. That he would rather find someone younger and prettier, someone who wasn’t nearing thirty years of age, someone who wasn’t lugging around kids from another man.
Stood on the cliffside
Screaming "Give me a reason"
She squeezed her eyes shut even as tears streamed down her cheeks. She sniffed and huffed her tears away, even as her eyes turned red and puffy. No, she wasn’t going to let Ashok shatter her dreams and leave her like a piece of garbage. This mansion, this luxury, this wealth belonged to her. It belonged to her and her son. She had put in too much work to let go of it now.
Ashok loved her. She knew it. He may have blurted something out in anger but she knew what he was really like. He was the man that had gifted her countless necklaces and bracelets and rings. He was the man that had shown off her beauty in the glitz and glam parties. He was the man who loved her. She wasn’t going to forget it, and she sure as hell wasn’t going to let him forget it.
Your faithless love's the only hoax
I believe in
Don't want no other shade of blue
But you
No other sadness in the world would do
………………………………………………………………………………………………………
Vidya Shakti Public School, Parking Lot - three days later, Monday, 3:50 pm
“I’m still mad at you.” Ishita crossed her arms across her chest and turned away from her husband.
“Come on Ishita. We agreed to this. Your car needs to get fixed.” Raman parked his car in the parking lot and turned towards his wife in the passenger seat.
“But an entire month Raman! How am I supposed to go about my life without my car for a whole month?!”
“Ab jitna time lagega utna to lagega hi na madrasan?”
“Isiliye main keh rahi thi ki Mihir aur Mihika ki shaadi ke baad meri gaadi dete hai shop mein. Ab pura mahina bina gaadi ke chalana padega. Shaadi ka saamaan le jaane ke liye, guests ko pick up aur drop off karne ke liye sab ki gaadiyaan chahiye hongi na?”
“Manage ho jaayega. Agar gaadiyaan kam pad gayi to taxi book kar lenge.”
Ishita gazed out the window, her eyes focused on the entrance of the school.
“Ruhi kyun nahi aayi abhi tak?” she wondered aloud.
“Because we’re ten minutes early. Woh aa jaayegi. Shaanti se baith,” Raman instructed her.
Ishita fell back against the seat and sighed. Raman sent a quick message to Mihir before turning his attention to her again.
“Aapko iske baad waapis office jaana hai?” Ishita asked.
“Pata nahi, waise to maine Mihir ko message kiya hai. Agar woh aaj ka kaam sambhaal paata hai to thik hai. Warna main jaaunga waapis.”
“Dekhiye, ab aap Mihir ko itna kaam dena band kar dijiye. Uski shaadi hone wali hai.”
“Mujhe itni toh akal hai madam. Aur waise bhi, now that Romi is done with his MBA, he’ll take on more responsibilities at the office. Mihir will get more than enough time with his wife. Happy?”
“Yes, happy.”
Ishita glanced out the car window, but her chirpy daughter was nowhere in sight yet. Raman’s phone chimed with a message from Mihir. And he sighed aloud.
“Turns out Mihir is going to need me back at the office today. I’ll have to go back after dropping you guys off at home,” he said.
“Ab socho, agar meri gaadi hoti toh aap abhi office jaa sakte the. Mere aur Ruhi ke liye rukna nahi padta. Hum log meri gaadi mein ghar chale jaate,” Ishita quipped.
“Tumhari gaadi ghar tak pahochti hi nahi. Raaste mein hi band pad jaati. Aur agar kahin thuk jaati to aur musibat.”
“Aaj tak, maine ek baar bhi apni gaadi nahi thoki hai.”
“Oh really?!” Raman turned to his wife and raised his eyebrows. “Did you forget how we met?”
“I did not forget anything.” Ishita narrowed her eyes and met her husband’s eyes. “It was your car that hit mine. Not the other way around.”
“Agree to disagree…”
A knock on the back window ended their tiff.
“Ishimaa! Papa! Open the door!” Ruhi tapped repeatedly on the window.
Raman unlocked the door, and Ruhi climbed in. To their surprise, Adi followed behind her. But instead of climbing in, he poked his head in, hesitant to sit down and join the family.
“Adi bhaiya! Aayiye na!” Ruhi urged. “Dekho papa, main Adi bhaiya ko bhi lekar aayi.”
Raman turned his head around and smiled at his son. “Come na beta, sit down.”
“Ruhi bahot zid kar rahi thi… I mean she literally dragged me here…” Adi laughed nervously.
“Accha kiya usne beta,” Ishita chimed in. She turned around and beckoned Adi in. “Baitho na. Come in.”
Adi climbed in beside his sister and clicked his seatbelt in place.
“Adi, aaj aapki tuition classes hogi na? Math, right?” Raman asked. “Should we drop you off there?”
“No, we don’t have any tuitions this week. Or football practice either. They’re canceled since we have exams. You can drop me off at home. I’ll text the driver not to come.”
As Adi retrieved his phone from his backpack, Raman drove out of the parking lot, heading towards the Khanna Mansion. He barely hid his scowl at the prospect of dropping his son off at that cursed place.
“Aap dono ki exams kaisi thi aaj?” Ishita asked both kids.
“Bahot acchi thi Ishimaa. Mujhe saare answers pata the!” Ruhi beamed.
“Aapne saare answers recheck kiye the? Jaise Ishimaa ne sikhaya tha?” she asked.
“Yes mumma!”
Adi gulped. He quashed down any envy he felt for his sister.
“Adi, aapka paper kaisa tha?” Ishita asked him.
“It was okay. I had my math exam today. My least favorite subject.”
“Well, at least you’re done with it now. No need to worry about it anymore.”
Raman hit the brakes as they approached a red light. He drummed his fingers against the steering wheel as he chewed his lip, thinking about how to break to Adi his hopes for the summer. The light turned green and he floored the gas.
“Adi beta, do you have any summer plans?” he asked, making eye contact with his son in the rear-view mirror.
“Not yet dad. Why?”
“Well… Mihir mama is getting married next month. So I was wondering if you wanted to come stay with us for the summer. That way, you can participate in every function, with everyone. All your cousins will be there. You’ll have a lot of fun.”
Adi brightened up at the idea. “Really dad?! I think that sounds great!” Immediately, his smile faltered. “But will mom be okay with that?”
“We’ll talk to her when we drop you off, okay? I’ll convince her,” Raman assured him.
“She’s gonna come to the wedding too, right?” Adi asked.
Raman pressed his lips together. Mihir would never agree to that. But Adi wouldn’t be happy hearing otherwise.
“If your mom and Mihir mama are okay with it, then of course she can,” Raman replied to the best of his ability.
While Raman relaxed, content in his son’s answer to spend the summer with them, Adi’s brain churned with an idea. He would finally be out of that mansion for the summer. He wouldn’t have to deal with the constant fights and the never ceasing atmosphere of negativity for three whole months. What if… what if his mother could be out of that house too?
“Papa, can mom come to stay with us too?” he asked, hope etched in his eyes. He would do anything to get his mother to stay away from Ashok, from the man who never respected her.
Ishita’s eyes widened in shock. Her discomfort heightened at the prospect of her husband’s ex-wife moving in, and in her anxiety, she looked to the one person who could put her at ease. Raman met Ishita’s eyes and nodded discreetly.
“Adi beta,” he spoke to his son, “we don’t have enough room for your mom to move in too. We’ll be having lots of guests coming over for the wedding. She won’t be comfortable. I think she’ll prefer living in the mansion, with all the facilities she’s used to.”
Adi’s smile fell but he knew his father was right. His mom was used to a certain lifestyle.
“But don’t worry beta,” Raman continued. “Your mom can come visit you anytime she wants. And we can take you to meet her as well. Anytime you miss her. Okay?”
“Okay dad.” Adi smiled, content with knowing that his mother could come over anytime to visit him.
Ten minutes later, Raman parked his car in front of the Khanna Mansion. The family of four exited the car and approached the entrance. Raman rang the doorbell, and the butler let them in.
Shagun strolled out of the kitchen and stopped in her tracks, seething at the people who had dared to accompany her son home. Raman read her mood correctly and sent his kids upstairs.
“Adi, why don’t you show your room to your sister? I’ll talk to your mother until then,” he suggested.
“Okay dad.”
Adi held his sister’s hand and took her upstairs, eager to show her his shelf full of books. Downstairs, Shagun sauntered towards Raman and Ishita, nose held high, her fingers running through her smooth hair.
“What brings you both here?” she gritted out.
“Shagun, we were hoping Adi could stay with us over the summer,” Raman said without beating around the bush. “It’s Mihir’s wedding next month. I think he’d love to attend.”
Shagun fumed. Her own brother was getting married, and no one had bothered to invite her! On top of that, they wanted her son to attend?! Without her?! Not on her watch.
“Absolutely not Raman. I’m not sending my son with the likes of you!”
“Just think about Adi for once,” Raman urged. “I’ve already talked to him. He’s really excited to come stay with us.”
“Well, you should have thought about asking me first. My own brother is getting married, and you want my son there, but not me?! If my son comes, then I come too. You can’t have your cake and eat it too.”
“Listen Shagun, if Mihir is okay with you coming, then he’ll invite you himself. As far as Adi is concerned, you can come meet him anything you want. And once the vacation is over, he’ll be back with you in no time.”
Shagun managed to push her vanity into some corner of her mind to let her calculating cleverness take over. She hated the thought of sending her son to the Bhalla House, away from her, where he could slip out from under her control. But upon re-thinking her stance, she saw the benefit of letting him stay with the Bhallas temporarily.
Her relationship with Ashok was extremely rocky. She was convinced that she could patch things up with him, that she could get him to continue loving her like he used to. But still, she needed a back-up plan. And what better back-up plan than the people who were so attached to her one and only son? She could let Adi stay with the Bhallas, let them get attached to him, and then use him to bend them all according to her will. After all, she held sole custody of Adi. She could definitely use it to make sure she had a hold on the Bhallas… and her ex-husband.
“Fine…” Shagun cleared her throat. “Adi can stay with you. But no one can stop me from coming over to meet him, anytime I want.”
“Yes, of course Shagun… Of course, you can meet him anytime you want.”
Raman beamed with delight and turned to his wife, squeezing her hand as his eyes glistened with contentment and hope. Ishita returned the gesture, nodding at her husband, sharing in the joy he felt.
Meanwhile, Shagun smiled wickedly, as some detestable plans brewed in her head.
………………………………………………………………………………………………………
Central Supermarket - two days later, Wednesday April 16, 5 pm
Raman and Ishita exited their car and shut the door, as they made their way to the entrance of the supermarket. Raman grabbed a shopping cart, as Ishita retrieved the shopping list from her purse.
“I seriously feel like your chauffeur madrasan, now that I’m driving you everywhere,” Raman quipped, as they arrived in the produce section.
“Maine to pehle hi kaha tha ki main ricksha se aa jaaungi. Aap hi nahi maane.” Ishita replied, as she surveyed the cauliflowers and cabbages.
“Accha? Aur saamaan ke dus bags tum ricksha se lekar aati? Itni bhi badi pehelwaan nahi ho tum.”
“To phir driver bhi mujhe lekar aa sakta tha na?” Ishita retorted. She dropped a bag of cauliflowers and capsicums in the shopping cart.
“Aap bhul gaye na madam? Driver toh mummy aur papa ko lekar gaya hai, shaadi ke liye pooja ka saamaan laane ke liye.”
Of course, Raman refrained from mentioning that he himself had insisted his parents go with the driver, hitting two birds with one stone. His parents could travel comfortably, while he got to spend time with his madrasan.
“To phir bane rahiye apni biwi ke chauffeur,” Ishita smirked.
“Aur kar bhi kya sakte hai?” Raman chuckled.
Ishita surveyed the rest of the fruits and vegetables in the produce section, adding various bags to the cart that Raman pushed alongside her.
“Yeh sab kitna mehenga hai,” she sighed, clicking her tongue in disappointment. “Isse accha kisi chote se kiraane ki dukaan par chalte na, to yeh saari sabziyaan aadhe price mein mil jaati.”
“No way,” Raman said. “I am not going to those tiny shops. Yahan price zyada hai, lekin sab kuch acchi quality ka milta hai. Shopping to hum yahin se karenge,” he insisted.
“Quality to chote shops mein bhi acchi hi hoti hai. Yeh to aapko chaska laga hai, zyada paise kharch karne ka.”
“Aisa nahi hai Ishita. Aise bade supermarkets mein hygiene ka bahot acche se khayal rakhte hain. Quality here is ten times better.”
Their banter continued as they strolled through the grocery store. Eventually, they reached the edge of the non-veg section.
“Raman, aap ek kaam kijiye na. Wahan se chicken ya mutton ya jo bhi non-veg ki items leni hai woh le kar aayiye na? Mujhe nahi jaana wahan.” Ishita screwed her face in discomfort.
“Fine,” Raman chuckled. “Yeh lo, cart pakdo.”
Ishita took a hold of the cart and turned into the cereal aisle, as Raman retrieved the non-veg supplies his mother had ordered. He returned and dropped them into their cart. That was when he noticed exactly what his wife had shopped for. There was spinach and paneer for his favorite palak paneer. There was soy sauce, chili sauce, capsicums, and hakka noodles for Ruhi’s favorite Chinese meal. There were even cauliflowers and cabbages for Romi and Rinki’s favorite gobi ke parathe.
“Main aaya ek minute,” he told his wife, as she dropped boxes of cornflakes and cocoa puffs in the cart.
When he returned, he dropped tomatoes, tamarind, and rasam masala mix into the cart. Ishita smiled softly. Those were the ingredients for her favorite comfort food, rasam rice.
They walked over to the next aisle.
“Raman, main soch rahi hoon, kuch Italian supplies bhi le lu. Adi aa raha hai na agle hafte? Use Italian pasand aayega,” Ishita suggested.
Raman simply nodded. His wife was one of a kind. She managed to think of every member of his family, without forgetting anyone.
“Waise, Adi se yaad aaya, aap use psychiatrist ke paas le jaane ki baat kar rahe the na?” Ishita asked, as she placed a bottle of marinara sauce and alfredo sauce in the shopping cart. “Kuch baat bani?”
“Abhi tak to nahi,” Raman replied. “I’ve spoken to the psychiatrist that Bala suggested. And she’s open to new clients. Bas ab ek baar Adi se baat karni padegi. Is hafte uski exams hai, to main abhi use disturb nahi karna chahta. Agle hafte woh ghar aa jaaye tab usse baat karunga. Shaanti se, baith ke use samjhaaunga.”
“Good thinking.”
Ishita dropped a bag of pasta and spaghetti in the cart. They proceeded towards the personal hygiene aisle, picking up body wash, shampoo, lotion, and toothpaste.
“Is there no dental floss here?” Ishita ran her eyes through every shelf but couldn’t find what she was looking for. “I’m going to check in the next aisle. Look after the cart please, Raman.”
She pushed the cart towards Raman, and darted off to the next aisle to find dental floss. After a thorough perusal, she struck gold. She grabbed two packs of dental floss and returned to her husband. But the sight that greeted her had her eyes bulging out of her head.
Her husband chatted away animatedly with another woman. She was decked in a skin-tight salmon pink dress with long off-the-shoulder sleeves, accentuating every slender curve of her body. Her brown hair was pulled back in a perfect high ponytail, her skin glowing from the most expensive concealer and foundation. Ishita was suddenly self-conscious of her own appearance. She was dressed in a plain merigold saree, her hair carelessly tied back with a few bobby pins, her face lacking any makeup other than a hint of kajal (kohl).
The woman grazed her fingers on Raman’s arm and Ishita fumed. No way. Not on her watch. She didn’t care how beautiful or young that woman was. No one, no one but her could touch her husband. She stomped forward, determined to lay her claim on her man. She knew this was unlike the calm, cool, collected Dr. Ishita Bhalla she usually was, but she didn’t give a damn anymore. She had discovered long back that nothing was normal about her when it came to her husband.
“By the way Raman, you’ve really kept yourself incredibly fit after all these years. You look exactly like you did in college,” Ishita heard the woman say.
“That’s very kind of you Monica,” Raman replied, pleasant as ever. He had grown accustomed to female attention, but he still squirmed from unwanted attention.
“Why don’t we get together sometime? I’d love to hear what you’ve been doing. Maybe coffee or dinner?” Monica suggestively grazed her fingers on Raman’s arm again.
Ishita was only a few feet away from them but neither had seen her coming yet. The green-eyed monster in her was ready to pounce and attack the woman in front of her.
Raman jerked his arm away and stepped back. “That’s very flattering Monica, but it won’t be possible.” He spread out his fingers and flashed his wedding band at her. “I’m married.”
Ishita’s chest swelled with pride and satisfaction as she stepped beside her husband and placed her hand on his shoulder. “And I’m his wife,” she declared.
“Oh wow…” Monica said, her eyes going back and forth from Raman and Ishita. “I had no clue. You guys… you guys look great together. I’ll take your leave then. It was nice seeing you after so many years Raman. You take care.”
“Nice to see you too Monica. Bye.”
Raman waved her goodbye as Monica strolled away, clicking her heels on the tile of the floor.
“Kaun thi woh?” Ishita asked as soon as Monica was out of earshot.
“Kya?” Raman faced his fuming wife, acting as if he knew nothing.
“Zyada bhole mat baniye. Kaun thi woh ladki jisne abhi abhi aapko coffee aur dinner ka invitation diya?” She narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms.
Raman pressed his lips to avoid smiling. His wife was jealous. And he loved it.
“So you noticed what she said, but you didn’t notice that I said no?” Raman asked. “Itni jealousy?”
Ishita dropped her arms and took a step back. “Jealousy-wealousy kuch nahi hai. Mujhe to us bichaari ladki par taras aa raha tha. Aap jaise Raavan kumar ke saath nibhana har kisi ki bas ki baat nahi hai.”
“Accha?” Raman stepped forward, crowding her space. “Beta kya hai na, hum un logon mein se hai jo aag lagne se pehle dhua sungh lete hai. Aur tum na jal-bhun ke dhua dhua ho chuki ho. Qubool kar lo. Jalan to huyi tumhe.”
Ishita stepped back until her back collided with the aisle, rattling the bottles of body wash and shampoo. “Nahi huyi. Bilkul jalan nahi huyi,” she lied, averting her eyes.
“Oh really? Toh jab dil mein chor nahi hota na, to aankhein mila kar baat karte hai.” He pulled her chin forward, forcing himself to face him. “Aankhein churaate nahi hai.”
Ishita locked her eyes with her husband, breathing heavily, and without meaning to, the truth came tumbling out.
“Haan, huyi thi jalan.” She pulled at the lapels of his shirt, bringing him closer. “Ab sach sach batao, kaun thi woh?”
Raman slid his hands across her waist, rubbing the pads of his thumbs against the expanse of bare skin between her saree and blouse, setting her skin on fire.
“We used to go to college together. I was her senior ten years ago. Apparently she remembered me and introduced herself. I barely remember her, madrasan,” he explained. “Waise bhi, tumhari jitni hot biwi ho, to kisi aur pe nazar kaise jaayegi?”
“Kapdo ki thaan lapetu tab bhi?”
“Tab bhi.” He raised his hand and tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear.
Just then, a passerby loudly cleared his throat, causing Ishita and Raman to spring apart. Raman dropped his hands, and Ishita let go of the lapels of his shirt. Suddenly aware of their public location, Ishita grabbed the handles of their shopping cart and rushed to the next aisle, flustered beyond belief. Raman cleared his throat and followed his wife, struggling to hide his smile and blush.
Raman found his wife in the next aisle, walking forward with her back facing him. He stepped forward to approach her, only for her to back out of the aisle abruptly and crash into him. The unexpected weight of his wife cost him his balance, causing him to hit the ground with his back, his wife falling on top of him.
“Ouch! Madrasan, tu paagal hai kya?!” he shouted. “Seedhe seedhe jaa rahi thi, to achanak reverse gear kahan se aa gaya tujh mein?”
“A-Aap? Aap y-yahan… kaise…” Ishita stammered.
“Main yahan nahin to aur kahan hounga? Tumhaare dimaag ka sach much koi screw dheela hai kya?!”
“Sorry, sorry Raman, maine aapko dekha nahi…”
Ishita scrambled to her feet, helping her husband up, dusting him off. Not once did she meet his eyes, her blush deepening from pink to crimson.
“Ishita seriously, are you okay?” Raman asked, rubbing the back of his head to soothe the ache his fall had caused.
“I-I’m fine… M-mujhe… um… woh… kuch lena hai…”
Ishita escaped from the aisle, taking the cart with her, almost running away. It wasn’t until Raman regained his senses and realized where he was, that he understood what was wrong with his wife.
He stood smack dab in the middle of the contraception and family planning aisle.
A smile crept up to his lips which slowly transformed into a light laugh. The same bold woman that had laid her claim on him a few minutes ago, suddenly transformed into a shy bride moments later. His wife was truly a conundrum.
As he left the aisle, looking for his wife, he became certain of his earlier conclusion: his madrasan was definitely not ready for the next step.
………………………………………………………………………………………………………
Hello my precious readers! 🤗
This was a bit of a shorter update. I am just setting up the stage for the next sequence. If you haven't guessed already, then let me tell you that up next is my take on the Ashok-Shagun wedding track and the subsequent track where Adi and Shagun lived in the Bhalla House.
Of course, I'm replacing Ashok & Shagun's wedding with Mihir & Mihika's wedding. I felt they could have made the same change in the show without it affecting the plot too much. IshRa and their families being heavily involved in MiMi's wedding would've been a lot more palatable. And Shagun/Ashok could still be invited from Mihir's side. The exact same dramas and plot could be followed, and the audience would've loved that a lot more.
Also, in my story, Shagun isn't moving into the Bhalla House, only Adi is. She'll be visiting often though, so her presence will increase. I felt like the show could've made a similar change. Shagun temporarily stays at the Bhalla House for a couple nights, but then stays at Mihir's place or Raman sets her up in an apartment of her own. She could visit often and create the same drama that she did. She didn't need to be living there.
A few of you have expressed the concern that my story is ending soon. I want to alleviate your concerns there. I have a lot of content planned. Adi has yet to accept Ishita as a mother, he has yet to completely integrate into the IshRaRu unit, and he still has to realize the truth about Shagun. All of that will take time. Plus, Ishita's insecurities are yet to be unpacked, and both IshRa are yet to confess. Even after that, I have planned both a honeymoon and a pregnancy track for IshRa. So rest assured, this story is nowhere near over! 😉
Just a heads up, the next updates might take a bit longer. Grad school is beginning soon and I'll get busy with classes. Plus, planning out the next few chapters will take a while.
As always, stay happy and healthy! Keep reading, and voting, and commenting!! I love you all!! 😊❤️
comment:
p_commentcount