As I admitted before, I enjoy silence. The soothing emptiness that does not fill itself with heavy, demanding words is my heaven. As we sit, opposite each other; with a half a dozen candles flickering light between us; the silence is prevailing, strangely uncomfortable. The power failure continues as we dine in silence, I can hardly see what she is doing with her food, the candles are covering her from my view, but I can see her face, properly, up close and contrasted in the ocher candle light.
She had prominent dark circles underneath her eyes. Her eyelashes are heavy and curled upwards, they hide her eyes, as she chooses not to look at me and focus on her plate instead. Her dark hair, falling in thick strands, frames her face, in a soft wave of rich brown curls. She eats slowly, chewing moodily and sipping water occasionally, all the while maintaining her gaze away from mine.
I should have realized this before. I do not enjoy the silence between us, it is torment personified.
‘Miss Gadodia, I didn’t mean to hurt you earlier…’ I say casually, making her jerk out of her trance and look at me. Her coffee color eyes, glitter in the candle light, with a tint like tawny, reminding me an overlarge cat, purring for a bowl of milk.
‘I know,’ she says, going back to her plate.
I bit my lip. She wants a written down apology, fine.
‘I’m sorry,’ I say again, this time making her stare at me for a long while.
‘It’s alright SK,’ she says again shrugging a little. ‘I’ve grown up in a home which taught me far too early that when a man says it’s the end of discussion, they mean it. Both of us don’t have a right on other’s secrets. I understand.’
In the perfect polite way she puts it, those words hurt. I wince comprehending that she was comparing me with her father…a man I have started to loathe after a few encounters. Girls always do that, sometimes consciously while other times unconsciously, they compare every man they meet with their fathers, or father figures. Maybe, it is their way of deciphering the unknown, by tallying it with the known. I however do not want her opinion of myself to be conjured through the faulty crooked prism of her father. I narrow my eyes a little as I prepare my next words.
‘I have an old connection with Lakshya,’ I say, slowly studying her expression. ‘He and I…er…we grew up together.’
She says nothing, but I can see that she has stopped eating. She is still not meeting my eye though.
‘We have so much of bitterness between us now, thanks to his father, I don’t think we would ever reconcile. He’s no longer the boy I…I considered my brother.’
‘I fall for him in collage, first day, first sight, he was my senior,’ she says suddenly. ‘It took me a lot of courage to talk to him; he was kind of a popular guy.’
I watch her interestedly as she stares in to the space and speaks. I had been trying to get her talk for so many days and finally a crack on my own walls made her open up. Lakshya…is the key.
‘It came as a shock when he proposed.’ She says then, playing with her food, not looking at me. ‘He said I was all he could ever dream of…’
‘He says a lot of things he doesn’t mean,’ I mutter, taking a sip of water. Our gazes meet and her eyes shine with moisture.
‘I know that now,’ she agrees gradually. ‘But I didn’t know it then. My baba…he is a different kind of a man, a lot more commanding and demanding. Ma’s scared of him half the time…he, he was never in love with her, she was always too disappointing for some reason. I always feared that the person I would someday marry…might have the same opinion about me. So when he said those words…that I was all he wanted, his dream…I-I was, startled. I felt thrilled…glad, happy and confident at the same time. I thought it was love.’
‘It isn’t.’ I nod at her. ‘That’s appeal…love is deeper.’
She says nothing for a long while. Both of us have completely forsaken our meals by now and the candles melt away between us. She speaks again after a moment.
‘Now he is disappointed in me. I broke his image of perfection and he hates me for that. I…I hate myself for that.’
‘You’re no god Miss Gadodia. Humans aren’t perfect. He’s no child to dream of fairies, he should have realized this. I get Lakshya…he is too involved in his fantasies but I don’t see any reason why you should punish yourself that.’
‘To be loved, people can do anything SK, be glad that you haven’t crossed that phase yet for you don’t know how painful it is…to want love and be deprived of it for a life time.’
Those words… I wish she would just stop them. Unwillingly I close my eyes and take a large breath in. You would never find anyone who knows what you mean more than I do Miss Gadodia, but I have no reason to enlighten you about that.
‘You shouldn’t give anyone the power to break you or mend you Miss Gadodia,’ I tell her after the gulp of cold air had cooled off the burning sensation in my heart. ‘Love is beyond your control but life is. You’re a stupid girl if you die for someone who has clearly moved on… Tell me something, did you really believe your sister was saying the truth?’
‘You know this already right?’ She asks me making my lips curl. I should be worried, by the sheer amount of my thoughts transparent to her. This girl is eating away my sanity, but I am curious for her reply.
‘Um hmm,’ I say leaning back in my chair. ‘I know she came to meet you after getting married to Lakshya. I can imagine her conversation with you. In my imagination you simply confessed to something you don’t remember because you were shocked by the brutal way he chose to abandon you, not to trust you and you wanted to clear yourself from your sister’s path. Am I right Miss Gadodia?’
She blinked at me.
‘I thought he would trust me. I have never begged anyone to trust me before… Then I felt there was no point in all this. Too much, I wanted it to end. Somewhere I honestly thought Ragini was telling the truth.’
I sigh, being right is not contending in some matters.
‘SK?’ She says in a measured tone.
‘Hmm?’
‘Why would she lie?’
I watch her for a moment. That expression of innocence which highly bothers me is back on her face. It makes one want to shield her from all the worldly harm, I wonder how her father managed to outcast her from his family so easily and loathe the man a little bit more.
‘I think she’s threatened by your presence in her life Miss Gadodia.’ I say honestly. ‘She is married to the man who was in love with you, insecurity is natural. Most women would do what she is doing, trying to destroy you desperately.’
‘But she is my…’
‘Sister I know. But, I’m not sure if you’re aware of this or not, most women change their loyalties after marriage…you know pati se sansaar theory. So for her Lakshya is the priority now. I don’t think she would think twice before stabbing you if she gets hold of a knife and has you cornered.’
‘And you think I should outlive all this bitterness?’
I stand up and start gathering my plates. She follows my lead and starts pilling up the dishes. I let her take them and follow her to the kitchen.
‘What I think doesn’t matter at all,’ I tell her. ‘But think for yourself, would you die for this bitterness? I know selflessness is quite promoted these days, but fat, old self concern is healthy too.’
‘You have some villain-ish quotes SK.’ she almost smiles, throwing the dirty dishes in the wash basin and folding up the sleeves of her Kurti.
‘I went to a school for antagonists,’ I grin at her. ‘Should I make your admission there?’
‘Nope,’ she says, struggling with her hair as she started to wash the bowls. ‘I have you, there’s no point in troubling myself.’
‘You’re lucky Miss Gadodia,’ I tell her folding my arms in mock supremacy. ‘Not many have SK for free.’
‘Oh yes, see my luck is draining away,’ she says sarcastically. ‘How many of your servants are murder suspects?’
‘I was thinking of taking one as a security personal too…with nice two dead three missing reputation. No one would dare to trespass what say?’ She says nothing as she is too engrossed handling her hair. ‘Wait,’ I say walking to her. It is irking me to watch how she battles with her stray strands every second. I hold her hair away from her face and knot them behind her neck. That action…had no evaluation behind it. I had no idea what made me do that. My fingers lightly brush against her cheeks as I gather her hair and rest on her nape as I finish knotting them. She drops the bowl in her hand in to the wash basin already filled with water, getting both of us splashed in soap water. I take an involuntary step backwards.
I should say something…like right now. The silence is again too uncomfortable. She does not move even an inch, drenched in soap water and staring at me. I know I said this before…but her eyes…I hate them! They simply make the perfect smart answer on the tip of my tongue vanish with one blink of those heavy lashes. I have a reputation to keep and she is making me tongue-tied here.
I notice as I gather my scattered focus, she has not moved even an inch yet. I walk back to her still not sure what I am going to say and take the bowl she had dropped her moment before.
‘Let me do it,’ I say, pushing her hands away from the soap water. ‘I can do it with less water everywhere.’
She blinks at me once more; I catch that from the corner of my eye and backs away, leaving me to do the dishes. I wonder with my hands dipped in the bubbles how she made her attorney her kitchen helper with one blink of those coffee brown eyes, smart girl…huh.
*
Swara
My eyes pop open, in to the darkness that is pressing them from every direction. Slowly I sat on the bed, recollecting the nightmare that has become so frequent nowadays. The silence and the darkness, make the simmering pain bubble up, and drain through my eyes. I don’t want to cry…not again.
Leaning my head against the bed post, I think back to the conversation with SK over dinner. The man is smart; he has a way of walking through solid walls people put up against their hearts. He had not given away much from his past, but made me confess some darkest secrets of my own. Still, I can’t understand what made me do so.
He had been right when he said, what I felt for Lakshya was far from love. Now, with the loss of the wool that feeling pulled over my eyes I could see the same fact clearly. I was suffocating in my home, the family that despised me, Lakshya was freedom. I was not in love with him in person, I was in love with the idea of being loved, the idea of moving away from everyone who considered me nothing more than a burden, the idea of being wanted, respected and free, was what I loved.
I was trying to fly away, with wings he offered me. I should have known better. I sigh, making the conclusion.
The landline is ringing once more. It must be well past midnight, I narrow my eyes jumping off the bed to attend the call. The landline was still my responsibility. Could it be Lakshya again? Trying to rub some more salt in to my raw wounds? No, he would go to bed early. This was someone else.
From the passageway I see SK’s lean shadow, attending the call. I should not have worried. It seems this man never slept. He was in his night attire but very much awake, talking in a low voice to the receiver.
‘Uttara?’ He said in that curious tone. ‘How did you find this number?’
Who is Uttara? I wonder. She can hardly be SK’s girl friend, for then she might know his mobile number. A sister perhaps, he is not in contact with? Or maybe a long lost friend he has rediscovered in Kolkata?
‘And you redialed? God, Uttara you should have been working with me. When did you come back?’ He asks after a moment, a faint smile etching across his face. That smile did not belong to the SK I have come to know. It is a different man, talking with Uttara.
‘I’m fine.’ He says in a matter of fact tone. ‘Oh, come to Mumbai someday I’ll show you how much I enjoy the banishment.’ There is humor in his voice but I distinctly feel this conversation is not much different from mine with Ma, a little earlier.
Then as fast as that different avatar came it went away. SK’s jaw tightens suddenly.
‘Ah, Mrs. Maheshwari…it’s so nice to hear from you.’ He says in a cold tone that made me stumble a few feet backwards. Mrs. Maheshwari, as in Ragini? How did Ragini suddenly entered this conversation.
‘No,’ SK is saying when I focus my attention back to the conversation. ‘You don’t worry and please don’t call me that. No one calls me that name anymore; it sounds like a curse when you say it.’ He listens for another minute. ‘I see,’ he says then. ‘You’re worried about your husband’s reputation…again. No, he’s no relative of mine and neither are you. Good night!’
He slams the receiver and turns sharply towards me. I hide, in the shadows, knowing he would not appreciate finding me here.
‘I saw you Casper,’ he calls out; the menacing tone vanished from his voice. I step out of the shadows hesitantly. He stands there, his arms folded and grinning. ‘Care to join for a coffee?’ He asks arching an eyebrow as he skips back towards the kitchen. How fast can this man change his masks?
*