Three months later
20 June 2016
Bhalla House - 8.00pm

Adi had just finished his dinner when the phone rang. He picked it up and heard his fathers tentative hello, so unlike his usual confident tones.

"Hello papa, kahan ho aap? It's almost 8pm"
(Hello papa where are you? It's almost 8pm)

"Adi beta, is it safe for me to come home?"

"Aacha you're asking about Ishima? Woh yahi hai, apne room mein. Phone doon kya?"
(I see, you're asking about Ishima? Should I give her the phone? She's in her room)

"Adi, kyun marwana chahta hai yaar? Abhi bhi ro rahi hai kya?"
(Adi, do you want to get me killed? Is she still crying?)

"Ro nahi rahi hai papa. Sirf room mein se nahi aa rahi aur kehti hai ki dinner nahi karegi. Wardrobe bhi tidy kar rahi hai. Accha papa, dadi aap se baat karna chahti hai."
(She isn't crying papa. Just won't come out of her room and says she won't have dinner either. And she's tidying her wardrobe. Ok papa, dadi wants to talk to you)

"Adi, no... hello, mummy"

"Raman, tu ne aisa kya keh diya bahu ko? Woh toh khaana khaane se inkar kar rahi hai. Bas roti hai ki woh moti ho gayi hai, tum ab usko pasand nahi karte, tumhe uski zaroorat nahi. Tumhe lunch time sar par ice karne gayi thi tumhaare office, phir kya hua. "
(Raman, what did you say to my daughter in law? She's refusing to eat. Just cries that she's gotten too fat, you don't find her attractive any more, you don't need her. She went to your office at lunchtime to surprise you, so what happened?)

"Ma, aisa kuch nahi..."
(Mum, it's nothing like that...)

"Mujhe kuch nahi sunna Raman. Yeh bacche ke liye theek nahi hai. Ghar aaja. Abhi."
(I don't want to listen to any excuses Raman. This isn't good for the child. Come home now)

Sighing loudly, Raman switched off his phone and then gingerly unfurled his frame from his car seat. He had been sitting inside his parked car, outside their building hoping to confirm that his wife had recovered from the fiasco at lunchtime, but obviously that was not the case. He needed to go in and face the music.

"Tum ghar jao Joseph" he sighed to the driver. "Ab toh mujhe bhi ghar jaana hi padega."
(You go home Joseph. I have no choice but to go home too now)

**************************************
A few hours before
Raman Bhalla's office - 1.05 pm

Raman sat back in his chair with a sigh. He had just finished another demanding telephone conference with his Singapore clients, and while the lucrative account meant he needed to give his personal attention to the various issues which had come up with the campaign, the fact that he was hardly getting any sleep due to the wildly fluctuating moods of his very pregnant wife meant that he was operating on the verge of exhaustion.

He did not blame his Ishita.

She was very apologetic, but every time she burst into hormone induced tears, he felt as if his heart would break into pieces. So even after she would drift off to sleep, he would lie awake, gazing at her, cradling her in his arms, stroking her burgeoning stomach where their babies tussled for dominance. He could feel their kicks and his heart would burst with pride, just as it had done for Adi and Ruhi.

And it was Adi and Ruhi that her tears were mostly for.

"What if I can't give them the same love once the babies come Raman? What if I treat my children differently? What if everything that people say about step mothers is correct? What if...?'

He reassured her time and again and he knew that her fears were baseless. She had given Adi and Ruhi the love that their own mother had never been able or willing to. She would happily lay down her life for his 2 children, had indeed come close to doing so when Ruhi was being kidnapped by that idiot Ashok. She would never love her eldest two any less. He knew that, even if she didn't.

Her guilt for even thinking the way she did would overwhelm her at times.

"Ruhi and Adi were enough for me Raman"  she had whispered in his arms the previous night. "We didn't have to have more children. Why did I feel... "

"Theek hai, we can drop them off at the orphanage" he had retorted, out of sensible answers for once.

"Ruhi aur Adi ko?" Tears welled afresh in horror.

"Nahi, in dono ko." (No, these two) He placed his hand on her swollen tummy, and received a resounding kick in response. "Straight from the hospital to St Mary's Childrens Home."

"Kuch bhi " (Whatever) She had replied amongst her sniffles.

She had fallen asleep in his arms, and he had woken up that morning with his neck twisted every which way, his head pounding and his eyes blurry with much needed sleep.

And so when he had been standing in front of the mirror after his shower, trying unsuccessfully to massage his neck, and she had come up behind him, their babies blocking most of her access to him, her hands kneading his shoulders to try and bring him some relief, he had, befuddled by sleep and pain, made a silly joke.

A most unwise and silly joke.

"Tum ho Ishita?. Mein ne socha Dara Singh kahin se aa gaya kushti ladne ke liye "
(Is it you Ishita? I thought Dara Singh came from somewhere to wrestle with me)

Well, that had set off the tears afresh.

"You don't want me to touch you" she had cried. "Moti hoon, isliye." ( Because I'm so fat)

His sincere apologies going unheeded, for he had never found his wife sexier, he had run away to the office.

And since then it had been meeting after meeting. It was only now,  at lunch time, that he was able to sit back for a moment.

There was a tentative knock on the door and Shweta entered. Shweta was his new secretary, a sweet 23 year old with a body like Deepika Padukones and a face to match.

"Are you okay sir?" She asked, placing a file on the table before him. "You look like you're in pain."

"Yes, stiff neck" Raman grimaced. "This is for the 2.00pm meeting?" He indicated towards the file she had just placed.

"Yes sir. Just check to see if everything is in order please."

"Hmmm"  Raman reached out for the file and then froze, as a spasm of pain travelled down his neck and his arm.
"Ouch" his yell was involuntary and was reflected in the contortions on his face. "Shweta, I can't move. Call my doctor, quick."

"Yes sir."

Shweta spoke quickly in the phone and then turned to Raman.

"Sir, it's lunch hour, he is on his way home and will drop in here on the way, so should be here soon. He said to massage your neck and shoulder to release the muscle spasm, then wait for him."

"Massage kaun karega?" Raman snarled through his pain. ( Who will do the massage?)

"I can try sir" Shweta volunteered.

"You? Maar dogi mujhe " He said in horror. (You? You'll kill me)

"Nahi sir, my mum has a beauty parlor, mujhe aata hai. Baaki sab lunch break par hai sir, aur koi hai hi nahi, watchman ke siwaye." (No sir, my mum has a beauty parlor, I do know how to do massages. Besides, Everyone else is on lunch break sir, besides the watchman)

"Bloody hell" Another spasm of pain shot through him. "Okay, try, but I'm warning you Shweta, if you do any damage..."

"God help me" Shweta murmured under her breath as she moved hesitatingly to her boss's side.

It was at this moment, as Shweta was gingerly moving aside her boss's jacket from his shoulders, that Dr Ishita Raman Bhalla reached the door of the Bhalla Agency. The office was deserted except for the security officer at the door, and she wondered for a moment whether her husband was also out. She hoped not. She knew she had been acting irrationally and illogically for the last few months, and her poor husband had borne the brunt of everything.

From wiping her tears, to relieving her back pain at night, holding her close while she slept, to running around all over Delhi to satisfy her increasingly bizarre food cravings, he had done it all with a smile and with love. So surely her Raavan was allowed his occasional joke. She shouldn't have gone all crazy this morning - the poor man had rushed out without his breakfast.

So here she was with his faviroute pasta dish, and her face brightened up as the watchman assured her Mr Bhalla was inside his office.

"Theek hai bhaiya. Mein chali jaati hoon wahan.""
(Ok , I'll go to his office then)

And she walked towards his office.
*****************************************************
"Is it any better sir?"

Shweta had moved aside Raman's jacket and was expertly kneading his tensed muscles.

"Yes, yes " Raman replied in surprised relief. "You're good at this Shweta"

"I told you Sir, my mum has a parlor and she is a trained masseuse sir. Sir, if you don't mind, mein shirt ki ek do button kohl doon. Easier hoga." (If you don't mind sir can I open one or two buttons on your shirt. It'll be easier)

"If you don't mind Shweta" Raman responded, conscious of the compromising situation they were in, and the connotations that could be placed on Shweta being in such close proximity to him. "I know this may not look good, but you really are helping."

"No sir, mind kya karna, this is a medical emergency aur aap toh mere dad ke jaise hai na. You look a lot like him." ( No sir, what's to mind? This is a medical emergency and you're just like my dad aren't you? . You look a lot like like him)

"Well, that's ok then" Raman didn't know whether to laugh or cry at this. " I must share this with my madrassan" he thought. "Bahoot hasegi mujhpar."(She will laugh so much at me)

The buttons opened, Shweta was continuing with her massage, as footsteps came towards the door.
**********************************************
"Yes, Yes, Shweta, that's perfect. Ohhh "

Ishita paused outside the closed door to her husbands office, frozen in her tracks. Why was Raman moaning, and who was this Shweta?

"Oh yes Shweta."

Ishita could stand it no more.

She pushed open the door.
**************************************************
Her husband was seated forward in his chair, his discarded tie on the desk, his jacket half way down his arms and his shirt buttons opened. And there was a goddess standing over him, her arms around his neck, her fingers splayed on his shoulders. A goddess in a white bandage dress barely half way down her thighs, her pouty red lips curved into a smile, glossy hair cascading down her shoulders.

A very slim goddess. And a very sexy one.

The tiffin of pasta clattered onto the floor, past her maternity shalwar kamiz, as tears stung Ishita's eyes.

So this was why her husband had pushed her aside this morning. This was why he had compared her hands to Dara Singh's. This...this...

"Yes ma'am" the goddess was saying, as she moved away from Ishita Raman Bhalla's husband, who was sitting still, watching his wife with horror. "Can I help you?"

"Help me?" Ishita was astounded that she could still speak coherently. "Who are you?"

"Shweta Singh. I'm Mr Bhalla's new personal assistant."

"I can see just how personal" Ishita gave a final glare at Raman and then turned on her heels, ignoring the voice of her husband as he finally stirred into action. She was so angry that she didn't notice Raman's doctor as she rushed out of the lobby, jumping into her car and saying "Lets go home" to the driver.

Raman had tried to follow her, but then the doctor had taken one look at him and had taken control, taking Raman away to his clinic. And it was only at 7.30, after more muscle manipulations, MRIs and painkillers that he had finally been allowed out of the clinic.

**************************************************
Bhalla House - 8.05pm

The door to the Bhalla's duplex was wide open as he got out of the lift.

"Papa" Ruhi came flying and launched herself into his arms.

"Careful beta" he winced slightly as he bent to hug his daughter.

"Kya hua puttar?" (What's wrong son?) Papaji was sitting at the dining table and had witnessed his sons involuntary reaction to Ruhi's affectionate hug.

"Kuch nahi papa. Neck strain tha - muscle spasms ho rahe theh aur Dr Awasthi ne kaha kuch din aaram se rehne ke liye. Abhi clinic se hi aa raha hoon."
(Nothing papa. I had a neck strain, I was having muscle spasms and Dr Awasthi has said to take it easy for a few days. I'm just coming from his clinic)

"Theek hai puttar. Ab toh sab theek hai na? Aa dinner kar."
(Ok son. Everything is okay now, isn't it? Come have dinner)

"Papa, Ishita ne kuch khaya kya?"
(Papa, has Ishita had anything to eat?)

"Nahi." (No) Another voice answered in place of his father's and Raman's heart sunk.  His mother had come into the room and stood with her arms akimbo. "Ab tu hi ja kar sambhal Raman. Subha se kuch nahi khaya bahu ne." (Now you go and take care of her Raman. She hasn't eaten since morning)

"Haan toh mein ne bhi kahan khaya" Raman muttered under his breath. (Well, I haven't either)

"Theek hai ma" he said aloud. "Aap Ruhi ko dekh lena please. Mein madrassan ko dekhta hoon."
(Ok mum, you look after Ruhi please. I'll go and see to my madrassan)

*********************************************
He tentatively turned the handle and pushed the door open.

The room was in darkness, except for the soft glow of one bedside lamp. That was enough to reveal her to him, sitting rigidly on their bed, her back to him, facing the window.

He closed the door and turned the lock, the click loud enough to reveal his presence. But then she already knew he was there. She had known the moment he had walked into the house. Had heard the murmur of his voice from the living room. And so she had thrown down the saris she had been re-arranging for the umpteenth time, and had sat down to await him.

She had expected him to come running after her when she had left his office earlier, but he had not. She had expected him to come home immediately after her, to explain what she had seen, but he had not come.

She had dismissed his little joke this morning, but a cold shard of terror pierced her heart - what if it wasn't a joke? What if her hormone fueled moods, her guilt trips and her bloated body had truly pushed him away. What if he had really fallen for that leggy young woman who had been standing with her arms around him, her hands on his bare skin.

What..how..what was the possible explanation for that?

He walked up to the bed, carefully avoiding the heaps of discarded clothes scattered all over the floor. The bed was piled up with them too, and he carefully moved a heap aside, sitting down beside her.

She had thought that her tears had dried up, but his nearness was her undoing. Unbidden, unwanted, they flooded her eyes again. She blinked them back furiously, but alas, tears are traitors and these fell - and laid her bare before him.

"Ishita." His voice was tentative.

She remained silent, her tears her only response.

"Ishita, please don't cry. Rona band karo jaan." (Stop crying my love)

If his nearness had released her tears, his endearment stopped them.

"Jaan?" She whispered brokenly. "Jaan toh woh hai na. Aap ki sh sh Shweta "
(Love? She's your love isn't she. Your Sh Sh Shweta)

"No." He answered. "Sirf tum."
(No. Only you)

He reached out a hand, and pushed a stray lock behind her ear, wanting to see her, wanting her to see him.

"No" she whispered. "Mat chuo mujhe. Mere chuna toh aapko aacha nahi lagta na. Lekin us ladki ke saath..."
(No, don't touch me. You don't like my touching you anymore, but that girl was...)

"Ishita, listen to me"

He cupped her chin, trying to get her to face him, trying to make her see the sincerity in his eyes. "It wasn't what it looked like. I can explain."

"She was touching you Raman" she cried brokenly, twisting away from him, not being able to bear his touch.

He sighed and stood up, then knelt before her, his head bowed, his heart willing her to listen and to believe. He could not see her in pain.

"I had a muscle spasm Ishita, subah se dard tha, and then telephone conferences mein tha, ek movement kiya file uthane ke liye toh mujhe neck mein spasm ho gaya tha. Doctor Awasthi ne kaha massage karne ke liye, isliye Shweta ne kiya. Aur phir Dr Awasthi came just as you left. Mein abhi hi uski clinic se aaya hoon. Tests kar rahe theh, that's all Ishita. Aur koi baat nahi thi, aur kuch nahi tha."
(I had a muscle spasm Ishita, I was in pain since the morning, and then I was in telephone conferences, I made a  movement to get a file and my neck went into spasms. Doctor Awasthi said to massage the area to release the sapasm, that's what Shweta was doing. And then Dr Awasthi came just as you left. I've just come from his clinic, he was carrying out some tests. That's all it was Ishita. It was nothing else, there was nothing else)

She had been listening, but she would not look at him. And then, as if on cue, his phone rang. He ignored it, but then it started again. He took the phone out of his pocket, intending to turn it off, but then saw that his caller was Dr Awasthi. Perhaps, if Ishita did not believe him, she would believe the doctor. He pressed the speaker and said hello.

"Raman, I hope you've reached home." Dr Awasthi started.

"Yes, Doc, I just got here."

"Listen, I've been looking at the MRI results, and like I told you, I'm concerned about the muscle strain. You never listen to anything Raman, but this time you need to follow my instructions. Make sure your neck and shoulders are properly supported when you sleep, make sure you get enough rest and I want you to go and see the physio I recommended every day. It's a good thing that your secretary was able to relieve the muscle spasm when it started, so the damage is contained, but you need physio, and no excuses Raman."

"Yes Doc" Raman said wryly

" And listen, is everything okay with Ishita? She looked upset when she rushed past me in the foyer. Stress is not good for her so late in her pregnancy. You do take good care of her I know - you never talk of anyone or anything except her when we meet socially, but it's a delicate time for her, so extra care huh. "

"Yes Doc" Raman repeated as the connection was broken.

He switched his phone off and then raised his head to look at his wife.

"Raman" big fat tears were gathering again in her eyes. " Mujhe kyun nahi bataya?"
(Raman, why didn't you tell me?)

"I was telling you jaan, but you didn't want to listen."

She clutched at his hands and he got up off the floor, sitting beside her again.

"I'm sorry she cried. "It's all my fault " He put an arm around her pulling her close, feeling her salty tears on his cheeks, tasting them on his lips.

"Ssshh " he whispered. "It's nothing serious baba, kuch nahi hua mujhe" (Nothing has happened to me)

"But Raman..."

He tilted her head to face his and gently kissed her tears away, his lips tender on her wet cheeks.

"Ek baat par naaraz hoon mein lekin"
(I am angry about one thing though)

"Kya?" She whispered. (What?)

"How could you think that I would have anything to do with any other woman? Hmm. No matter what things looked like. Mujhpe bharosa kyun nahi hai?" (Why don't you trust me?)

He had stopped his gentle kisses and was staring seriously at his wife.

"Ishita?"

"She ...she is so beautiful" Ishita whispered. "Aur kitni patli thi. Aur mein kitni moti ho gayi hoon. Aur phir ab kuch karna bhi mushkil ho gaya hai, and it's been so long since we've... And I've been acting so strange lately. I was so scared Raman, ki aap mujhse thak gaye honge, that you don't find me attractive anymore, that..."
(She ... she is so beautiful. And she's so skinny. And I've become so fat. And its so difficult to do anything, and it's it's been so long since we... And I've been acting so strange lately. I was so scared Raman, that you may have become tired of me, that you don't find me attractive anymore, that...)

"Ishita, tumhe batane se toh tum maanti nahi, dikhana hi padega"
(Ishita, you don't believe anything I say, so I'll just have to show you)

Raman gave an exasperated sigh and then bent his lips to his wife's, searing her mouth with all the pent up intensity of his passion for her. His mouth was hard and demanding and she sighed and surrendered as he poured all his love into her. It wasn't until one of their babies delivered a resounding kiss that they finally sprung apart, hearts beating wildly and breath labored, even as their eyes lit up with smiles.

"Koi jal raha hai" Ishita gasped, as he pulled her back into his arms, stroking her hair softly.
(Someone is jealous)

"Apni mumma ki tarah" he responded, chuckling.
(Like her mumma)

"Mein nahi jalti kisi se"
(I'm not jealous of anyone)

"Hello madam, toh yeh sab kya tha? Shweta ko dekh kar toh aag hi aag ho rahi thi"
(Hello madam, then what was all this? You were on fire just looking at Shweta)

"Why do you need such a pretty secretary?"

"Ishita, she thinks I look like her dad. Ek aur bacha adopt karna hai kya?" (Do you want to adopt another child?)

"Kuch bhi"  (whatever) And she snuggled closer to him.

"Ishita you have to trust me. After everything, after 2 years, can't you tell, don't you know, I'm totally madly and irrevocably in love with you."

"I do know" she whispered. "But I get scared."

He stroked her belly affectionately and then sighed.

"Just two more months to go biwi. Phir mein ek raat bhi tumko sone nahi doonga. You don't know how much I miss you jaan" (Just two more moths to go wifey. Then I won't let you sleep for a single night. You don't know how much I miss you my love)

"Babies ke saamne toh aap ko koi time nahi milega Raman" (You won't get any time once the babies are here Raman)

"You can play with the babies all day Ishita. But at night they will sleep in the nursery, and you will be only mine."

"Babies ki koi schedule nahi hoti Mr Bhalla. And my babies won't sleep in any nursery"
(Babies don't have a schedule Mr Bhalla. And my babies won't sleep in any nursery)

"Mere bacche hai. Disciplined honge."
(They are my children. They will be disciplined)

"Accha?" She laughed as the sounds of Ruhi's screams could be heard from outside their sanctuary. "Apni choti punjaban ko toh discipline seekha do pehle"
(Is that right? Why don't you teach your little Punjaban some discipline first?)

He grinned sheepishly and helped her to her feet.

"Meri bas ki baat nahi hai. Come help me madrassan. Aur bahoot bhukh lagi hai yaar. Meetha toh ho gaya, ab kuch aur khilado "
(Thats not within my capabilities. Come help me madrassan. And I'm really hungry darling. I've had my dessert, now come and feed me something else too)

"Kuch bhi " (Whatever) She said shyly as hand in hand they walked out to where their family waited.

We're caught in a trap
I can't walk out
Because I love you too much baby
Why can't you see
what you're doing to me
When you don't believe a word I say?

We can't go on together
With suspicious minds (suspicious minds)
And we can't build our dreams
On suspicious minds

So, if an old friend I know
Stops by to say hello
Would I still see suspicion in your eyes?

Here we go again
Asking where I've been
You can't see the tears are real
I'm crying (Yes I'm crying)

We can't go on together
with suspicious minds (suspicious minds)
And we can't build our dreams
on suspicious minds

Oh, let our love survive
Or dry the tears from your eyes
Let's dont let a good thing die
when, honey, you know
I've never lied to you
Mmm, yeah, yeah

We're caught in a trap
I can't walk out
Because I love you too much, baby

Why can't you see
What you're doing to me
When you don't believe a word I say?

Don't you know I'm caught in a trap
I can't walk out
Because I love you too much, baby