by Sonia Rao
With those thoughts in mind, Shivalika quickly gulped down her drink and placed the glass on an empty table. She didn’t notice VK standing nearby. She was swaying a bit so VK asked her, “What were you drinking?”
“Chilled water, of course. Why don’t you try some? It can really help to cool down tempers,” she said, giving him a small smile, as she made her way to the restroom.
VK glanced towards the bartender who had been observing Shivalika with a frown on her face. At VK’s gesture, she held up the bottle of Vodka indicating that almost half of it was drunk by Shivalika herself.
VK swore under his breath. What was this girl trying to prove? That she was a big girl and could handle her drinks? As far as VK knew she never had hard drinks so it was a bit of a mystery why she was doing it now.
He slowly slithered out of the room behind her. He had to see what she was up to.
******
Outside the washroom, Shivalika was having trouble opening the door. With a hazy memory of previous times, she turned the knob and pulled the door towards herself. She pulled and pulled but to no avail. For five years, she’d been able to open this door easily so what was happening now? Tears of desperation sprang up in her eyes.
She suddenly felt an arm go around her and push the door open. The sturdy arm that held her on the other side prevented her from falling into the room when the door moved inwards. She turned to see who it was.
The dark grey eyes, steely and sardonic, that had been a permanent fixture in her dreams since she first saw them were a mere inches away from her face. Shrugging off his hands, she gingerly walked to the washbasin. Why was the world swirling ever so gently this way and that? Added to that, her heart was pounding like a shamanic drum. She was in primal territory.
As she splashed water on her face, a lock of her hair fell over, covering it from one side. VK leaned forward and gently tucked it behind her ear. She looked up and her gaze locked with his in the mirror. There was something in his eyes, the way he was looking at her, that burst the dam and sent her emotions gushing out.
“I love you, VK,” she said, or rather slurred. The impact of speaking made her sway a bit and instantly VK held her upright.
But she would not be kept quiet. The days of keeping her feelings to herself were over. No one could shut her mouth now. She had been afraid of her own feelings but unbeknownst to her, the alcohol had lowered all her inhibitions.
She turned around. Then she did what she would have thought was inconceivable but she had wanted so much to do it.
She stood up on her toes and raised her face to his. “Kiss me,” she said.
He stared at her for a beat of the heart and then groaning her name aloud, his lips captured hers like a parched man who has seen an oasis. It was as if it was meant to be.
Pure pleasure enveloped her. The aroma of his cologne and the hardness of his lips against her own softness both thrilled her and left her hungry for more. Shyness had already fled and she did not feel at all inexperienced. And, as instinctively as a woman who knows, with someone she loves with her heart and soul, she did what she had to do. She responded as hungrily as him, her hands lacing around his neck, pulling him even closer.
He held her tight as his lips plundered hers—more lover than bandit. As if intoxicated, his lips sought her cheeks and her eyes and then her lips again. They travelled everywhere on her face igniting hot flames of desire.
Shivalika’s heart would not be held captive. It fluttered like a caged bird seeking release. Her fingers laced around his neck, her lips invited him to seek even deeper delights. His lips, boldly accepting the invitation, moved lower down to the dip at the base of her neck.
She clung to him as if her heart would fail if she did not hold him tight. He gripped her as if he would meld them together.
She had wanted him so much and this was what she had been aching for, for so long. It was like the rain on parched land, the much-awaited rain, that brought life to a desolate earth.
She was a malleable doll in his hands. She pressed closer into him, her body moving with a mind of its own, craving that deep connection, her softness seeking its companion hardness in him.
“I love you. I love you so much, VK,” she murmured into his ears as his mouth trailed hot wet kisses at her throat. VK’s head shot up and with a groan, he captured her tender rosebud mouth again, eating it, tasting it.
It was intoxicating. She was drawn deeper and deeper into a whirlpool where only VK and she existed.
And then everything happened all at once. The door opened and Misha, her mouth set tight, stepped into the washroom. Shivalika saw her first. “Hey, Misha,” she said, smiling. She looked furious if one took consideration of her tight mouth.
In her daredevil mood Shivalika gave her a sly grin just before she began falling down slowly, drifting off into sleep as the vodka’s effect finally hit her. Shivalika’s hand swiped the tap on her way down and through her drunken haze she heard VK swearing. The last thing she remembered was feeling wet as if she was caught in the rain, both VK and Misha shouting loudly and being enveloped in VK’s arms, an embrace she never wanted to end.
CHAPTER 17
The sound of VK talking on the phone awakened Shivalika and she sat up with a start. The room looked unfamiliar, yet familiar. A ray of sunlight streamed in lighting up the room. Looking around she recognized it as Mr. Naidu’s room in the office and which was now VK’s room. It was spartan with just a couple of chairs, a dresser, a couch on which she was sitting, an armchair, and an attached bathroom. It was rarely used though it was always kept up to date.
Her gaze found VK who sat, pretty uncomfortably, on the armchair. His coat was thrown across the dresser. Even in his dishevelled state with shirt buttons half open and the sleeves rolled back, he made a dashing figure. His hair was a jumbled, adorable mess with the constant finger-combing it seemed to have been subjected to. Apparently, VK had spent the night sleeping, or trying to sleep, on the armchair.
She clutched the bedsheet to herself. She looked down and saw she was wearing a cleavage-revealing nightie with spaghetti straps, which barely left anything to the imagination. She looked around again, and she saw her clothes neatly folded and kept on a nearby chair. A bit of black satin peeked through the clothes and her color rose again as she recognized the two pieces of her delicate lingerie.
“Oh no!” The words escaped her almost in a shout as it struck her that someone had changed all her clothes. And that someone was now sitting in front of her, the guy she’d shamelessly forced to kiss her last night.
Hearing her shout, VK rose from his cramped position on the armchair and walked towards her.
“What’s the matter?
His voice sounded really tired and exhausted. Running his fingers through his hair, he looked at her, confused.
She gestured towards her clothes spread out on the back of a chair.
He looked puzzled. “They are all there.”
Her face was flaming at the thought of him seeing her without her clothes on. Had he really done that? She had to know. Unable to meet his eyes, she stared at his lips and said, “You changed my clothes?” Her chest heaved and she shut her eyes hoping to erase all the embarrassing situations she’d got into last night.
As understanding dawned, VK gave her a strange look and then he burst out laughing.
“No, my dear prude, I am sorry to disappoint you but it was Sandra who changed your clothes. She was also kind enough to lend you her daughter’s nightdress.”
He grinned seeing the relief that shone in her face. “You hit the tap before passing out and that set off the water, drenching you and me completely. Happily, Sandra lives nearby and she helped out for which, I think, you must thank her,” he added for further emphasis
Shivalika was suitably chastised. And then she remembered something else.
“My Gramma...home...” Shivalika panicked.
“Don’t worry. I called up your grandmother last night and explained t
he problem to her. Sandra has kept a change of dress for you; get ready and I’ll drop you home.”
She was relieved. A warmth suffused her entire being at VK’s thoughtful gestures. At the same time, her mind went back to last night’s incident and her strident declaration of her love for VK. And VK had responded equally passionately!
The color rose up her cheeks at the memory. She looked at him now and his grey eyes snapped open, as if he could hear each and every word she was thinking.
He gave her a hard, brooding look. She found it very difficult to meet his gaze and looked down. “I love you” she’d said, again and again. And worst, she had challenged him, nay, provoked him to kiss her and prove to her that he didn’t love her. O God! What had gotten into her?
But embarrassment was not only because of her own behavior. She still remembered the way his lips had moved under hers and the way he had caressed and explored them for the treasure snuggled inside, unseen and untasted till then.
They had clung to each other and might have continued if she hadn’t passed out. Apparently, the same thoughts were buzzing in VK’s head because he came towards her now, his eyes molten pools of passion. Shivalika raised her face towards him, in anticipation.
“Shivalika, I…” he began but before he could say anything further, his phone rang. His gaze still focused on Shivalika, he absent-mindedly hit the speaker tab.
“Dahling...where are you? My dad just called up. He’s booked Tosha’s for our engagement. The rings have also arrived from the jeweller. And, where are you? Don’t tell me you’re still in the office. Hasn’t that girl woken up yet? I told you to tell Sandra to stay with her. What—”
“I’ll call you back, Misha,” VK broke in before disconnecting the call.
But it was too late. Unshed tears gleamed in Shivalika’s eyes as she realised what had happened. Bitter bile rose in her throat as she took in this betrayal. She felt angry and ashamed of herself for having fallen for the oldest trick in the book. She hated VK with all her heart and soul. He had turned out to be a cheat, after all. He had crossed the sanctity of his engagement with Misha and toyed with her own emotions. She, who had thought would be immune to love, had gone and fallen for the man who was most unavailable to her.
VK saw the expressions flitting across her face. “Shivalika, listen to…” he began, but Shivalika would have none of that. She grabbed the clothes that Sandra had brought and ran into the washroom to change. She had already begun planning her resignation letter in her mind.
Sandra had misjudged her size. Did Sandra have a daughter as big as hers, she wondered? Shivalika had been so busy with her own life that she hadn’t bothered to find out more about her co-workers.
When she came out of the washroom, VK was nowhere to be seen for which she was glad. She would have died if she had to remain in his company a moment longer. She quickly stuffed her clothes in a handbag she found in the dresser.
Hurrying downstairs, she took out her phone to book a cab. As she reached the gate, she saw VK waiting there in his car. She ignored him but when she looked at the phone, she saw its battery had died down. Feeling doubly angry, she stepped onto the kerb to flag a regular cab. She saw many passing by but none of them were empty.
VK drew the car next to her, opened the passenger door and said, “Get in.”
She looked away.
“Get in, Shivalika,” he repeated, his voice as cold as ice.
Shivalika threw him an angry look and got in. Sandra’s daughter’s dress was not of the type she was used to wearing. Firstly it was short; she never wore such short dresses. Not that it looked bad. She had a fine pair of legs and in her nude colored stilettos they looked even more sleek and long. It was also sleeveless with a plunging neckline that made the dress stretch taut across her chest highlighting her curves.
VK seemed to draw in a ragged breath as she got into the car but she refused to look at him the entire way.
As the car drew to a halt in front of her gate, Shivalika gave VK a quick glance, to imprint his image in her heart. She was going to have to use that as his memory for her full life. How she would survive without him, she wasn’t sure right now, but she would have to find a way and she knew she would.
VK turned to look at her, his eyes strangely reflecting a pain which she could not understand. Tears pricked her eyes despite herself and she hastily wiped them before he could notice.
“I shall see you tomorrow in the office. As you already know, today is a holiday,” he said.
Shivalika nodded. Then stepping out of the car, she turned to him and said, “Thank you. And, goodbye, VK.”
She wondered if he realised how ominous her goodbye was as she was never going to see him again. She turned and walked inside the gate, not looking back even once. Only when she heard the car zoom away, did she relax and let go of her breath.
Mrs. Virmani opened her door just then and saw Shivalika. “Are you coming back from work now?” Her screeching tone pulled Shivalika out of her thoughts.
“Leaving” was Shivalika’s enigmatic reply, no longer caring about what anyone thought or had to say about her.
CHAPTER 18
“So, what’s on the menu today?” Gramma forced herself to look cheerful and pleased. But it was a bit of a struggle because Shivalika had made dinner and Grandma was sure that this one too, like all her previous attempts, was going to end up being difficult to identify from its charred remains.
“Paneer Chilli,” Shivalika said, her bright smile failing to reach her eyes. Wow, that is an ambitious effort, Grandma thought.
“Didi is making food? We’re not hungry.” The young twins pretended they did not want dinner and tried to get out of sitting at the table till Gramma gave them a hard stare and then they sat down quietly and waited to be served.
Gramma was glad she’d already given instructions to the maid to make a dal and a vegetable along with rotis and rice. Past experience had taught them that depending on Shivalika for the entire meal would only mean eating food that tasted nothing like it should or go to bed hungry.
Grandma dug her spoon into the paneer dish which surprisingly looked like a paneer dish. Why was it not charred, Grandma wondered. Perhaps it was undercooked. Bravely, she spooned the morsel into her mouth ready to discreetly spit it out when no one was looking. She swung her gaze around the table as she chewed the paneer chilli. The young twins, Shivalika’s dad, Shivalika herself, and even the cook were still, as if turned into statues, waiting for her to rescue them from their trance.
“Arre, wah!” Grandma was as surprised by the words that left her mouth as were the others. The paneer chilli was delicious. Grandma looked at the cook and raised an eyebrow. The cook shook her head and pointed her chin in Shivalika’s direction. The boys had already dug into the paneer and topped their plates with it. Shivalika’s father took a big helping of it, looking worried.
“Have some paneer, Grandma,” Shivalika said, smiling, ladling some onto her grandmother’s plate. Grandma wondered why she was faking her good cheer.
Ever since that day when she’d stayed overnight in the office after the party a week ago, Shivalika had been acting strangely. She’d wake up early in the morning and instead of going to work, she’d go for tennis practice which had always been reserved for the weekend. After helping her father with his physiotherapy exercises she would laze around the house. Laze might not be the very right word, Grandma mused, because they mostly consisted of her sitting still, staring into space and sometimes a tear or two would roll down her cheeks.
The first time it happened, Grandma went berserk. “What happened to you, babu. Tell me. Please tell me why you are crying.” Grandma herself was in tears to see her grandchild so sad.
But Shivalika had quickly wiped her tears and blamed them on something that got into the eyes.
But Grandma had been watching her. Shivalika’s well-cooked dish was the eye-opener. She caught her son’s eye whose face reflected the same worry that she felt on see
ing this perfectly made paneer chilli. They had discovered that Shivalika let out her stress by cooking and the more burnt the food, the more stress-free she became.
“Babu, come, sit and eat with me,” Grandma called out to Shivalika.
Shivalika obediently sat down next to her grandmother. She served herself tiny portions of the rice and the paneer chilli. As she spooned the paneer into her mouth, a sob broke out from her throat and she got up swiftly. “Too...much...chilli,” she said, pointing to her mouth and ran from the room.
Grandma’s stomach clenched with fear. There was something terribly wrong happening with Shivalika.
******
Getting ready for bed, Vashu dimmed the lights. The balmy air wafting in from the window added to the breeze from the fan. She rarely used the AC, afraid it would freeze her joints. It might have just been an old wives’ tale but she was taking no risk.
Vashu liked to read a bit before bed but today her mind was on her granddaughter. She lay awake in the semi-darkness, wondering how to get to the bottom of the matter? Maybe she could ask Shivalika directly? This would be the best approach. Sighing, she turned on her side, getting ready to sleep. She would try to get the truth out of Shivalika tomorrow. Just then, a soft knock on her door instantly brought her out of her drowsiness. She knew it was Shivalika. The sweet girl had a habit of knocking on her door before entering.
“Come, my child,” she said, softly.
Shivalika padded in, her soft bunny slippers noiseless on the floor. Her grandmother shifted inwards on the bed and Shivalika lay down beside her, hugging her, immersing her face inside her shoulder. Vashu tucked a wayward lock of Shivalika’s hair behind her ear. “Nice dish you made today. Getting expert in cooking, babu?”
