Betrayed

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Betrayed Page 13

by Kritika Sharma


  “Kunal, if you want to be with me then you have to get serious,” I stressed now. I never used dominating tone with him, but today I was forced to. He stared at me unbelievably. “What do you think will happen if you don’t get a good college?” I continued.

  “One year will not make me so old that I cannot get a good college. Maybe you can settle for some mediocre, but I want the best.” He raised his voice and banged his fists on the table. Ideally, I would have stepped back but his words hinted ‘Dev’ and it made me mad too.

  “What the hell you mean by mediocre?” I demanded standing up. He realized his mistake instantly and tried to fake calm expressions. “What do you mean?” I demanded again.

  “I meant commerce,” he muttered and even before I could retort any further, he left.

  Monstrous Chaos

  Kunal stayed mad at me for a few days, but I didn’t care. I too was mad at him, how dare he? Also, I knew he was wrong and hoped he would come around soon. However, before I could dwell more on the current status of my relationship, something else stole my focus.

  Our results came, and I didn’t just pass with flying colors, I topped the entire state. I got a whopping 97.4% in tenth standard, and I stood third nationally. I couldn’t believe I lost first position nationally by just 0.2% - national topper got 97.6%. Sarv bagged 82%, and Shiva got 76%. They were happy that I broke all records, but they were ecstatic that they both passed with distinction.

  My friends! I laughed internally. They were so cute.

  I showed my report card to my parents, it read:

  English – 97

  Hindi – 98

  Mathematics – 99

  Science – 94

  Computer Science – 98

  Social Science – 95

  “Why did you lose one mark in Mathematics?” was the first comment from my mother. My happiness evaporated in an instance.

  “Rani, are you crazy?” my father scolded my mother. “Well done, Ishana, I am so proud of you, my darling daughter.” And he lovingly placed his hand on my head and hugged me gently. My mother cleared her throat as if my father hugging me was a monstrous activity. He let go of me.

  “Rakshit, see how well your sister scored.” My brother was dancing excitedly at the news of my superb marks.

  “Well done, beta,” my father congratulated me again, and left to buy my favorite sweets.

  “Rakshit, make sure you don’t lose marks just because of some silly mistakes. I won't accept this,” my mother commented with shrewd eyes. He stopped jumping. He was in the tenth standard now and was preparing for board exams.

  I looked at my mother, horror-struck. I have never felt so repulsed by her. How could she do this? How could she compare us? She was deliberately trying to bridge a gap between my brother and me. “I want 99.9% marks, Rakshit,” she ordered, and my brother nodded sadly and left for his room. Tears filled my eyes as I saw the meanness of my own mother. Shiva was right; she was not my mother, instead, she was a monster.

  Given commerce was an alien stream for us all, we decided to join coaching right from the beginning. Mr. S. Bakshi was the most popular Accounts teacher, and Ms. Radhika was a brilliant Economics and Commerce teacher. They had huge demand, hence they were very expensive. Bakshi Sir charged two thousand rupees per month, and Radhika Ma’am charged two thousand five hundred rupees. I knew it was too expensive, but still, I brought it up with my mother.

  “Four thousand five hundred rupees on top of your regular studies?” My monster of a mother barked. “You are insane to even dream of this,” she continued, furious.

  “I need money to study,” I begged.

  “Then earn it yourself; don’t be more of a burden on your father than you already are.” Her venomous words hurt me.

  I knew I was not a burden on my father, instead, he loved me more than Rakshit. He wanted me to study and excel in life, but what could I do about my mother.

  “Fine,” I barked in a similar tone.

  “What?” she glared.

  “Khanna Sir offered me a part-time job to teach Mathematics at his institute,” I informed, and the look she gave me raised goosebumps on my neck.

  “Job with pay?” she demanded in a hissing tone.

  “He said he would pay me five thousand rupees,” I answered, taking a step back. I wanted to get away from her slapping range.

  “Five thousand rupees?” she mouthed each word cautiously. I nodded.

  “How many hours per day?” she enquired. I was surprised at her mismatched question and expressions. If looks could kill, she could have murdered me then, but her question indicated that she was okay.

  “One-two hours. Maximum three-four on weekends,” I spoke, taking another step back.

  “Fine, but you will hand over your salary to me every month, and I will pay you your coaching fees,” she ordered, staring down at me.

  “Sure.” My happiness knew no bounds. Now I could study with my friends at the good coaching institutes, earn decent money by teaching my favorite subject and be with Kunal every single day. It was a win-win situation for me. Or so I thought!

  Our new session began and so did my new schedule. My win-win situation didn’t seem like win-win after a month. It was too hectic and tiring, and I felt my life was turning into total chaos.

  My day began at 5 A.M. where I did various household chores for my mother. According to her, a good Indian girl should know everything about the home management. I left for school at 8 and came back at 2 in the afternoon. I left for my coaching at 3, studied till 5:30 and then went to the Khanna institute to teach at 6. I came back home at 8-8:30 P.M.; I studied and did all my homework at night and slept around midnight. I had hoped for relaxed weekends, but all my lectures demanded more time. So, I couldn’t get much sleep on weekends either. Yes, my schedule was hectic, and it felt that I bit more than what I could chew, but I continued with what I had. At least, I was happy.

  Issues and Intimacy

  Present Day in the Bar

  “Bloody 98%.” Ravi was over the moon, as if it was him who scored so well. “That too in the year 2001!” Ishana winked at his reaction. “I mean these days so many kids get 95% and up. But back then.”

  “Yes, it was rare!” Ishana supplied, and he laughed.

  “You were right; you are a genius.”

  “And you were doubting me.” Ishana laughed with him. For a second, he felt that she was flirting with him, but decided not to indulge that thought.

  She was a Goddess and Goddesses don’t flirt!

  “How much your brother Rakshit scored finally?” Ravi enquired, and all traces of laughter vanished from Ishana’s face. A morose look appeared in her eyes.

  “What?” he asked sincerely. “Is he?” he was curious about his well-being.

  “He scored well enough,” she dismissed rather abruptly. A memory flashed in front of her eyes – she remembered scanning through all newspapers to see Rakshit’s name and photo in toppers list, but it hadn’t appeared. He couldn’t score that well!

  Seeing Ishana so heartbroken and lost, Ravi immediately knew that he had pricked a sensitive nerve, so he thought best to change the topic.

  “Your mother, how come she allowed your teaching?” he asked curiously.

  “Because she was taking money from two sides. She forced me to work and took my earnings, and also forced my father to take additional shifts and earn extra for my coaching,” Ishana informed sadly. She recalled how exhausted her father was in those days and she hated herself now for letting her mother get away with it.

  “What?” Ravi exclaimed, “She is some double-standard person,” he murmured, looking for some fine wine. Ishana helped him decide. Given she was a regular here, there was not a single bottle she had not tried. He ordered the bottle.

  “Was!” she corrected him.

  “I am sorry for your loss!” he muttered, unable to decide how to react to this news. “May her soul rest in peace.” He added and Ishana laughed at his words. Th
e expressions in her eyes resonated with only one word – sociopath. He chose to stay quiet.

  “I lost her long ago, even before she died. You know what my only complaint is?” she paused as she poured wine in their glasses. He knew she was about to say something epically disturbing, yet he nodded. “I didn’t get to kill her with my own bare hands!” And she laughed again. He just gulped down his wine.

  School Life – Year 2001

  Kunal was over the moon when he found out about my acceptance of his father’s proposal. After all, it was him who had requested his father to help me financially.

  Much to my dismay, Kunal decided to take another year’s break and he was now my student. He didn’t miss a single class I took, and according to him I was the best teacher he ever had, but I knew it was all flattery. He had to compliment his girlfriend after all!

  I taught for an hour every day but had to stay back in case any student had any doubts. So, every day Kunal and I spent an hour together in an empty classroom, where, though some students did come and ask their queries, most of the time we were alone. The more alone time I spent with Kunal, the fonder I grew of him. He had an innocent laugh, and he got a sparkly twinkle in his eyes when he talked to me. He puckered his lips when he smiled at me. And the way he tilted his head and blinked, it always made my heart stop. He was also very kind and loving, and he took exceptional care of me. Yes, he was the perfect man for me, but there was another side of him that I avoided. Just like Dev, he tried to touch me. And given that I learned my lesson with Dev, I didn’t even let him touch my fingers.

  Months ago, when my board exams had ended, I had met Kunal and replied to his ‘I love you’. He had hugged me and kissed me on my lips. It was so sudden that I couldn’t stop him, but I couldn’t even feel a thing. I had squeezed my eyes in terror and pursed my lips tightly. He was shocked at my reaction, and I had to tell him all about what Dev had done.

  That day he realized why I took revenge on Dev.

  “Remind me not to betray you ever,” he mocked the moment I finished my story. I stared vacantly, unable to comprehend how to read his mockery.

  “Just kidding, love,” he explained, and I relaxed.

  “So, we will take our relationship slow then,” he spoke, pulling at my fingers. His touch made me very uncomfortable, so I took my hand back and replied softly, “Very slowly please.”

  Breaking the Boundary

  Six months passed and Kunal realized that my very slow was even slower than snail’s speed. So many months in the relationship and I hadn’t even allowed him to touch my hand. Every time we met, public or private, all we did was talk, laugh and talk some more. He was getting irritated and agitated by the day.

  One weekend, post our class, he asked me to accompany him somewhere.

  “Don’t you trust me?” he mocked in a flirtatious tone when I complained that I had to go back home. I was way too hesitant to be anywhere with him, except for coaching or the shack by Lover’s Park.

  “I do, but,” I started, but he cut me off, “Your holidays are going on so coming with me for some time will not hamper your career.” He grinned wide. The way he was jumping on his heels, I knew he was planning something big, and my gut said that something bad was about to go down, but I was out of excuses. Last month Khanna Sir had increased my salary to eight thousand rupees – I assumed Kunal’s hand in this raise – and my mother had given me free reign over my incoming and outgoing from home. Her only condition was – be home well before my father.

  So, though reluctant, I decided to accompany him. I hoped to go to some fancy restaurant or cinema, but Kunal took me to his friend’s house.

  “Why are we here?” I demanded as I stopped dead at the door. I was about turn on my heel and run away, but he held my hand tight. I tried to pull it away, but his grasp was too tight.

  “Chill, I want you to meet my friends.” He smiled and rang the doorbell. A girl opened the door. She was a slender, slightly dark complexioned girl. She had an aura of sensuality that I found intimidating at first glance. However, she was a female, and her presence relaxed me a bit. I stepped in and looked around - it was a shabby and battered house. The furniture was very old, and it looked like it had not been cleaned for ages. There was a foul stench of cigarettes that lingered in the air. I started to step back outside, but my hand was still in Kunal’s and he dragged me further in.

  “She is gorgeous, Kunal, no wonder you were so impatient to get your turn.” The female smiled and winked. Laughing, Kunal closed the door. I felt trapped.

  “Shruti, this is Ishana,” he introduced us, and we shook hands.

  “We will be in there.” She winked, pointing at a room, and disappeared in it. Kunal started towards another room, but I stood like stone. “Let’s go,” he hissed.

  “Where are the rest of your friends?” I mumbled as I scanned my escape. I hadn’t realized, but the main door was locked now and there was no key around.

  “Just come, okay!” he whispered and grabbed my hand again. In all my nervousness I had not even realized when he had left it in the first place. Kunal led me to another room. I inspected it with a nauseating feeling.

  He locked the door and hugged me from behind. Scared, I jumped and jerked away from him. “What are you doing, Kunal?” I demanded.

  “I love you, Ishana,” he whispered as he leered at me. Suddenly, I realized what this wretched place was. It was a sex den.

  “I want to go, please,” I demanded as I started towards the door. At this, Kunal held my hand and hugged me with all his might. I started to struggle in his grasp, but he didn’t let go. “Shh…shh…shh… just let your body loose, you will feel my love,” he whispered casually in my ear, and I felt the hair on my body rise. The goosebumps were not of pleasure. Instead they were of fear. I was terrified to the bone now.

  “Kunal, please let me go,” I screamed, and pushed him with all my strength. He took a step back.

  “This is not the way I want to be intimate with you,” I spoke with heavy breaths. It was getting really suffocating and hotter by the second. Maybe I was going to pass out. I controlled myself and grabbed the dirty table. Something sticky laced my fingers – a yucky feeling overtook me, and I felt a shiver of being violated.

  “What do you want then? Do you want to keep me hanging forever?” he practically yelled, ignoring my expressions and disgust.

  “If you just want to have sex, then I don’t think you are with the right girl,” I yelled back. I was angry, I was scared, and I had a feeling that someone was watching us – maybe he or someone had a camera hidden here.

  “I love you, I know you are the right girl,” Kunal spoke, taking a step towards me.

  “Prove it then. Let me go!” I demanded, pointing at the door. His actions were outrageous.

  “I want to cherish your love, your body before I leave,” he spoke softly, and Dev’s words rang in my ears. Hadn’t he said almost the exact thing the night before he left for Chennai – or Goa? This was too much for me. I tried to leave but Kunal stopped me again; I raised my hand and was almost about to slap him when he held my hand and grabbed my waist.

  “With cherish you mean RAPE!” I yelled the last word.

  “Rape?” he laughed mockingly. I felt a burning desire to murder him, I raised my free arm to scratch his eyes, but he grabbed it too and now both my hands were tied between his fingers.

  “You are crossing your limits. I have set boundaries in our relationship, and you are breaking those boundaries,” I howled with rage. I was about to say more, but he pressed his lips on my mouth and kissed me hard. I tried to scream, push him back, but his strength overpowered me. He had shoved me into the wall, and his whole body was pressed against mine. With one hand he had held both my arms so I could not retaliate and with the other, he was touching me all over.

  I felt his hand on my cheek, my neck, my waist. His eyes were closed, but I knew he could have felt nothing. How could he, I was so furious and enraged.

  F
inally, after what seemed like hours, he broke away from me. “I am going,” he whispered, on my lips. I felt sickly with the revolting stench of his breath. I didn’t know he consumed tobacco; his breath was laced with it!

  “Don’t you want to know where?” he mumbled, nibbling at my ears. I pulled away in disgust; no matter what he said or did, he could never take back these moments – when he did the unspeakable.

  “I am dying, Ishana, I have a hole in my heart. I am not sure if I will be able to make it,” he whispered, and I saw a streak of pain appear on his face. It took me some moments to register his words. Dying? Hole in the heart?

  “What?” the word came out as a whisper of disbelief. No matter how angry I was in the moment, I was still human, even if he wasn’t!

  “Yes.” and he finally let go of me. “And I need you to be with me. I know you cannot be there with me practically, but maybe you can be there emotionally and in the memories of the next beautiful moments,” he spoke, as he held my waist and pressed his lips on my neck.

  “NO!” I bellowed this time.

  “What?” He was taken aback. What had he expected? Did he think that I would take off my clothes and have sex just because he was dying?

  “NO! I am sorry you are suffering, but I am not ready for this,” I spoke quickly as I rattled the door. It was locked. I tried to look for the keys.

  “Please, Ishana,” he begged, as he grabbed me from behind and wrapped his hands around my body. A nerve-chilling shiver ran down my body as he placed his one hand around my breast and the other between my legs. I stood frozen for a moment. Maybe he took my state of shock, my shivering body as encouragement because he started multiple things at the same time. He started kissing my neck hungrily and started rubbing his fingers around the most intimate parts of my body – breasts and crotch.

 

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