Ishita

"Bin tere bin tere bin tere
koi khalish hai hawaaon mein bin tere"

The week following their Sunday outing felt surreal to Ishita.

She had returned to her home after their encounter in the community hall to find her parents and sisters engaged in preparations for Abhimanyu's visit.

She had informed them that she did not want to marry just yet,and had then been subjected to hysterics on the part of her mother, who had emotionally blackmailed her into at least talking to Abhimanyu without making any final decisions.

She had greeted Abhi with genuine affection when he arrived with his mother, but had told him what she had told her parents.She did not want to think about marriage right now. She had no reasons. No explanations. She just did not.

Her old friend had taken her statement remarkably well.

"I know Ishu, it's awkward isn't it. You and me, there just never was that sort of feeling between us, and now our amma's are sitting there hoping that we will make a match of it. I know, it's difficult. But Ishu, you and I are friends aren't we? So can't we continue to be friends? I'm here for a month, and then I need to go back to Istanbul for a couple of months to sort out a few things. So while I am here, can't we meet up, learn about each other and our lives again? I'd love for you to meet the boys, show me the city. If at the end of the month, you still feel the same, then fine, no hard feelings. But if you change your mind, you'll make me very happy. So what do you say, Ishu?"

Ishita had glanced over at her mother then, who along with Abhis mother, was staring unabashedly at Ishita and Abhi. She could see the entreaty in her mothers eyes, the forlorn hope in her face.

Ishita felt ashamed of herself - ashamed for not being able to give her mother the one thing in the world she so desperately wanted, for her selfishness in putting her own feelings, her own happiness first.

She had spent a lifetime trying to please, and she did not know where this selfishness had come from, this unreasonable hankering for an impossible dream.

All Abhi was asking was that she not give him a final answer for a month. Surely she could do that?

HIS face had come before her again as she stared at Abhi. HIS eyes, tortured, spitting fire, asking her for the world, while refusing to give an inch. She had shuddered and closed her eyes momentarily, before focussing on Abhi again.

"Okay'" she had said quietly. "I won't give a final answer for a month. But Abhi..."

"No buts Ishita" Abhi had interrupted her. "Let's just see how things go, huh?"

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So Ishita had spent the week keeping her word to her parents while nursing her confused heart.

Abhi had gotten in the habit of dropping in everyday - to the clinic and at home. He took her out to lunch, brought her mother her faviroute sweets from the halwai, took her father for a test drive in his new car. She could see her parents were getting more and more fixated on him as the ideal husband for her.

And she felt nothing. He was a friend, but nothing more. His goodness left her heart untouched.

And in the meanwhile fate kept throwing her against Raman.

She bumped repeatedly into him on the stairs, where he would stand by rigidly, waiting for her to pass, jumping back if they came into contact.

He was at the coffee shop where Abhi took her on Tuesday. She watched out of the corner of her eyes as he jerked his chair back as he saw her enter, making some excuses to his companions, before striding out, as if he could not bear to be in the same room as her.

He was the host at the promotional event Abhi insisted she accompany him to on Thursday.

She watched the shock on his face as one of his assistants walked Abhi and her over to where he was standing greeting his guests.

"Mr Abhimanyu Raghav" the assistant had announced and she had seen his face blanch, before a steely mask dropped over his visage. But he could not hide his eyes and she had seen the accusation in those eyes as Abhi had introduced her "Dr Ishita Iyer" Abhi had said, his hand on the small of her back. " My...friend."

She had left then, pleading a suddenly remembered appointment, refusing vehemently Abhi's insistence that he drop her off.

And she was coming out of the mall with Mihika on Friday when she had seen him enter the Palazzo Italian Restaurant with a stunning petite young woman on his arm. He had seen her, had bent down and whispered something to his companion, who had laughed and caressed his face. But his eyes had been on HER.

"God akka" Mihika had said in disgust." I don't know why Mihir worships that Raman Bhalla so much. Look at him, he seems to date a different woman every week. Society news mein aata rehta hai, with this model, and that actress. Akka, what's wrong?"

"Nothing" Ishita had said, brushing off the tears that Mihika had seen. " I have something in my eye. Let's go home now, please."

"Why Murugan" she had whispered, lying in her bed that night, Mihika asleep beside her. "Delhi is such a big city. So why do you keep sending him into my path? Why did I have to see that? How can I bear it? Why are you testing me?"

But there were no answers from Murugan. Only silence punctuated her bitter, lonely tears.

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Ishita woke up with a start on Saturday. The air was oppressively hot and humid, and there was a knot in her stomach, a feeling of apprehension in her heart.

She readied herself for her ten o clock appointment at the clinic, feeling as though she was being sucked into a swirling maelstrom from which there was no escape. Abhi called as she was putting on her make up.

"I'm hoping you'll be free for lunch Ishu?"

"Haan, I guess so" she replied. "I have a root canal at 10.00 but 12.30 - 1.00 tak free ho jayoongi."
(I'll be free by 12.30 or 1.00)

"Great, I'll pick you up"

Ishita put down the phone, knowing she had to let Abhi know, now, that she could not marry him. There was no point in dragging this out. He was too wonderful a person, too good a friend for such deception.

She knew there was no future with Raman. Seeing him with that woman last night had destroyed any dreams she had been building up in her head about him. But still, she had known everything about him when she fell in love with him. And love did not disappear overnight. So how could she marry Abhi, cheat him, when she could not love him, when she loved someone else?

She was about to leave the house when her amma stopped her. Appa was sitting with her at the dining table, and so was her akka.

"Vandu akka" she exclaimed " when did you come, and where is Jiju?"

"Bala didn't come Ishita" her sister replied gravely. "He doesn't agree with us"

"Agree with what akka?" Ishita asked, taking the seat next to her sister. "What's going on? Amma? Appa?"

"Ishita" her appa replied. "Hum ne ek faisla liya hai, tumhaare liye." (We have taken a decision, for you)

"What?" She had asked, her stomach lurching.

"You know beta" her appa had taken both her hands in his. "After Subbu broke off your engagement, your amma kept trying to get you married, but I didn't want to rush you. I always felt that the right match would come, and everything would fall into place. Well, that right match is Abhimanyu, Ishita. Beta, I have never interfered with your life. I have let you make your decisions. But I am taking this decision for you Ishita. For some reason, you are hesitating to accept Abhi. But you have to try Ishita. When you were prepared to marry Prateek, whom you didn't know, for our sake, then why not Abhi? When Abhi leaves for Turkey in three weeks Ishita, it will be as your fiance. I have never asked you for anything, but today I am. I am asking for your word Ishita, that you will marry Abhi. That when he asks you again, you will say yes. And if you don't Ishita, then it will kill this old man."

"Appa, no" Ishita cried, throwing her arms around her father. "Please dont say that."

"Ishita" Vandu akka caressed her hair softly, as Ishita sobbed in her fathers arms. "Why won't you say yes. Is there someone else in your life?"

Ishita thought back to the previous evening.

Raman with another woman, her hand caressing him with easy familiarity, his hand on her back. She remembered the way he had bent to that woman, and the look of triumph that he had given to her, to Ishita. It had been so easy to replace her, and she must not forget that.

She remembered his taunts to her in New Zealand and last week, his declarations that he would never love again. He had meant what he said, and she could not forget that.

She shushed her inner voice, which tried to remind her of the way he had taken care of her, of the vulnerability he had shown to her, of the uncertainty that had clouded his eyes when he tried to push her away, of how safe and secure she had felt in his arms. And she shushed her heart, her aching heart, which tried to remind her of the kisses which had awoken desires in her she had never known she was capable of feeling, of the way he had crushed her in his strong arms, and the passion with which he had touched and caressed her.

She looked at her Appa's sincere age worn face, her amma's worried eyes, her sisters concerned ones.

She could not hurt her family for something that would never be. That could never be.

'No, akka" she lied as she looked into her sister's eyes. "There's no one. Appa, please don't worry. When Abhi asks me again, I will say yes."

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Raman

"Tere baare mein jab socha nahi tha
Mein tanha tha magar itna nahi tha"
(Jagjit Singh)

Raman had returned to his apartment from the community hall with his mind in a spin.

He had blurted out to her that he could not bear to see her with anyone else, and he knew that he had spoken the truth. He was jealous, he was possessive of her. He wanted her, he needed her. But he would not accept that he loved her.

It's physical, it's lust, that's all it is, he told himself.

He assured himself that he would get over these feelings, after all, he had been attracted physically to many women, it meant nothing, it would be over before it started, just like with the rest.

He had seen her again the very next day on the stairs. He had been waiting for Ruhi to come down, talking on his mobile to Mihir when she had come rushing down. Her hand had grazed his as she rushed by, and he had shrunk back, cursing the awareness that ran through him.

He could still feel the softness of her lips, still taste her sweetness, he did not need reminders of what she felt like in his arms. She had given him an accusatory look and rushed on down, as he stood perfectly still, enveloped in the fragrance she left behind.

He had left earlier the next day, wanting to avoid her altogether. But she must have had the very same idea, for once again she was there, opening her door the same time as him, her feet on the stairs in the same rhythm as his. They kept to opposite ends of the staircase, careful not to touch in any way.

And yet he was aware of every pore, every inch of her being. She looked particularly beautiful today, her deep red salwar suit matching the blush on her cheeks, her loosely plaited long luscious hair caressing her back as she walked. He had never seen her in that suit before, he wondered what it was that had brought that blush to her cheeks, why she had looked so appealing today.

His questions were answered later that morning when he went to meet a prospective client in the coffee house near his office. They had been deep in discussions when something made him look up.

She was walking through the door, a tall man in his thirties beside her. She was smiling at him, and the mans hand was on her arm, guiding her towards a vacant table. He had stood up abruptly, pushing back his chair and she had looked up at him.

Their eyes had met and he had known again the unreasonable unfathomable depths of jealousy.

"Mr Khan, I have to go. Shall we continue this discussion in my office?" And he had nodded to his companions and walked out, as they looked after him in puzzlement.

He had seethed in his office long after his clients had left.

That evening he had called up one of his casual girlfriends, determined to forget HER in another's arms. But five minutes after he met the girl in a bar, he was bored and disgusted with himself. He could see only her, that smile, those eyes - THAT hand on her arm. He sent his friend home and drank away to HER memories instead, relieving their kisses and embraces in his mind, tasting her sweetness in every sip of his drink, aching for HER, for her alone.

On Wednesday, he busied himself with arrangements for a major promotion that was to take place the following day.

He left home early, got home late and then cursed himself because he had succeeded in not seeing her that day. He missed her. How could he miss her? She was nothing to him. She was too good for him. She was better off without him. Yes he repeated to himself. She was better off without him.

On Thursday, he was at the Promotion venue early.

He was wearing a black Armani suit and white shirt, and he knew that he was the cynosure of all female eyes at the event. They came over, eager for introductions, some even slipped him their phone number, but nothing moved him.

He could still see HER in that red suit ; the tendrils of hair escaping to frame her blushing cheeks; those pouty red lips smiling at that bastard with her; the curvaceous body he had held in his arms, that had been crushed against him, hidden underneath the chiffony gauze of her kurta.

It was mid way through the event, after the speeches had been said and the product launched, that one of his assistants had brought some latecomers over to him for an introduction.

He had looked up with a smile that froze on his face. SHE stood before him, with the same man from the coffee house. The man her family were trying to get her married to, he presumed. "Mr Abhimanyu Raghav" his assistant was saying. His hand automatically went forward to take Raghav's hand, but his eyes remained fixed on her face. So her suitor was THE Abhimanyu Raghav? The textiles tycoon who had just moved base to Delhi from Turkey. He knew of Raghav, knew that he was a widower, a good family man. He was a catch, and why wouldn't she have him? Raghav was introducing her to him now.

Introducing her!!! He wanted to laugh, to show Raghav the absurdity of introducing HER to him. He, who was intimately aware of every curve and contour of her body; he, who had possessed those sweet lips like no other; he, who had tasted her sweetness; he, who had left her moaning in need. He needed no introduction to her.

"Dr Ishita Iyer" Raghav was saying . "My ... friend".

He noticed the pause before the word friend, saw the proprietary hand Raghav had placed on her back and he seethed. She had saved him from having to answer, from having to make small talk by declaring that she had to leave. He had seen her dismay at seeing him, had seen how she had shrugged off Raghavs hand, had insisted that she would find her own way out, and for a moment his burning heart had found relief.

But then as they stood watching her go, Raghav had spoken and his world had come crashing down again.

"Wonderful girl" Raghav had said. "I'm going to marry her."

So once again he was going to lose, to a richer more successful man. The previous time, the loss had been bearable, because the prize had been an illusion. But now? How would he live with this now?

"Loss, Raman?" His inner voice taunted him. "How can you lose what you never had? How can you mourn what you never wanted?"

That Friday, as he called the casual girlfriend he had abandoned at the bar on Tuesday, he was determined to do whatever he had to do, to rid his mind of her face, to rid his heart of her memories.

So he had booked a table at his faviroute Italian restaurant. But the Gods were not quite finished with him. The way things had been going, he should have expected it. Should have known that the coincidences that threw them together, which just never seemed to end, would ruin his best laid plans once more.

SHE had been standing with Mihika at the entrance to the mall when he approached with his friend. He presumed she was waiting for her car. He noticed her as he opened the car door for his date, tossing the keys to the valet. She had looked up and seen him and there had been an accusation in her eyes.

"You dare to accuse me?" his eyes had flashed back, and he had bent deliberately to Nina, his date, and had whispered some mindless endearment to her. Nina had laughed and caressed his face and he had the satisfaction of seeing tears in HER eyes.

He had sat brooding at dinner, barely tasting his food, drinking too much. Nina had been her usual charming self, but he had known that he would not be going back to her place tonight.

"Raman" Nina had said, when he had failed to answer for the umpteenth time. "Tell me about her. Who is she?"

"Who is who?" he asked, dragging his mind back to the conversation with Nina.

"The woman we saw at the entrance. The woman you were looking daggers at. The woman you were trying to make jealous. The woman you love."

"Don't be ridiculous Nina. I told you I don't believe in love".

"That's right" Nina sighed. "You don't believe in love with me, but you don't have a choice sometimes Raman. Love doesn't give you a choice. I saw your face Raman, and I saw hers. You may not want to believe me, but you are in love."

"Nonsense" Raman had said then, but later that night, in his room at home, he had reflected on what Nina had said.

"Was this love?" He wondered. "This desperation, this unreasonableness, this struggle, this hunger, this need to possess."

He had experienced love before, and it had been a comfortable and happy place, before Shaguns perfidy had turned his world upside down. But the bitterness and pain he had experienced due to her infidelity and his separation from his son had been a cold and bitter despair.

This, this was something different. This was pain with the promise of pleasure, this was a desperate hunger that promised a glorious repast. This was the parched thirst when an oasis was in sight.

He knew, he had to admit, that she was no Shagun.

He had known her for less than four months and yet he knew, with an absolute certainty, that if he allowed her into his life, she would not let him down, she would never let him go, she would give him and his daughter all the love they had never had.

So why was he holding on to his fears, to his doubts, why was he letting his failed past with Shagun destroy the future he could have with Ishita. He knew that he could not procrastinate about this, that he could lose her unless he acted fast.

He went to sleep with unanswered questions still spinning in his mind, but he went to sleep with hope.

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Raman woke up with a start on Saturday. The air was oppressively hot and humid, and there was a knot in his stomach, a feeling of anticipation in his heart.

He hummed to himself as he showered and dressed - he would seek her out today, he would try and tell her what was in his heart.

He was having brunch with Ruhi at 11.00 when the door bells chimed. His mother started to get up from the sofa, but he waved her back and strode to the door himself.

There was a messenger at the door, dressed in the ubiquitous brown khaki uniform.

"Registered post hai sahib, Raman Bhalla ke liye"
(Registered post sir, for Raman Bhalla)

"Haan, mein hoon" he said, signing for the letter and heading back inside.
( Yes, that's me)

His mother looked up curiously as he tore open the envelope, pulling out the stapled document.

"Ki hai puttar?"
(What is it son?)

"I'll tell you later Ma"

Raman's face had turned white, but he swiftly pulled himself together, stuffing the document into his coat pocket. He walked over to Ruhi and kissed the top of her head.

"Ruhi, tum ghar par hi rehna dadi ke saath. Kahin bahar mat jaana." He bent and looked his little girl in the eyes. "Promise?"
(Ruhi, you stay at home with Dadi. Don't go out anywhere. Promise?)

"But papa, mujhe park jaana hai"
(But papa, I want to go to the park)

"I'll take you later Ruhi. Now promise me."

"Ok, promise papa."

"Ma" he grabbed his wallet and car keys and opened the door ."Ruhi ko ghar par hi rakhna. Mein Romi ko text harta hoon ki woh wapas aajaye.
(Ma, keep Ruhi at home. I'll text Romi to come back home now )

"Lekin puttar ki hoya ? Kahan jaa raha hai?"
(But what's wrong son, where are you going?)

"Ek bahut important deal seal karni hai Ma"he said, closing the door shut behind him.
(I have to seal a very important deal, ma)
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"Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs. Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers eyes. Being vexed, a sea nourished with lovers tears. What is it else? A madness most discreet, a choking gall and a preserving sweet."
William Shakespeare

Yeh dooriyan
In raahon ki dooriyan
Nighaon ki dooriyan
Hum rahon ki dooriyan
Fanah ho sabhi dooriyan

Kyun ko paas hai
Dur hai kyun koi
Jaane na koi yaahan pe

Aa raha paas ya dur main jaa raha
Janu na mein hoon kahan pe

Yeh dooriyan
In rahoon ki dooriyan
Nighaon ki dooriyan
Hum rahon ki dooriyan
Fanah ho sabhi dooriyan

Yeh dooriyan

Kabhi hua yeh bhi
Khali rahoon pe bhi
Tu tha mere saath

Kabhi tujhe milke lauta
Mera dil yeh khali khali haath
Yeh bhi hua kabhi
Jaise hua abhi
Tujhko sabhi mein paa liya

Tera mujhe kar jaati hai dooriyan
Satati hai dooriyan
Tarsati hai doorman
Fanah ho sabhi dooriyan

Kaha bhi na mein ne
Nahi jeena mein ne
Tu jo na mila

Yeh dooriyan....

Love Aaj Kal - Irshad Kamil