by Isha Inamdar
For
Nana, who taught me to love, unabashedly, unconditionally
&
Inna, who showed me the power of being loved,
wholeheartedly
CONTENTS
The Beginning of the End
Bed, Breakfast and More
The Dishonest Journey Begins
Homecoming
A Family Saga
The Bonfire
Things Fall Apart
Hajime!
The Naked Truth
A Lot Can Happen over a Drink
Peace Personified
A Box Full of Surprises
Pithi Dastoor
Frenemies
Mahira Dastoor
False Truths
Not the Knot
Beginnings
Knocked Off
D-Day: Useless@Baraat
D-Day: Lost in Transit
D-Day: Here Comes the Bride
Thin Excuses
Rendezvous
Eve for Adam, Adam for Eve
Chaos
The End of the Beginning
High and Away
Guiltily Yours
Sleepless Nights
Battles
440
Nothing
Trivializing Issues
And She Finds Out
Out of the Closet
The Beginning of the End
Lovestalgia
Crossing the Bridge
Denials and Acceptances
Found and Lost
Gloom
The End
The End of the World
December
January
February
Living, Breathing, Waiting
Bleak Moments
Barsi
Ibiza
Sweet Agony
Monday
Tuesday
Wednesday
Thursday
Friday
Monday, a week later
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
About the Book
About the Author
Copyright
The Beginning of the End
16 November, 2010
‘Tell me, Harsh! Where the HELL is Anjana?’ yelled Rudra. It was unlike him to lose his temper like this, but there was nothing normal about this time or situation. Hell, it was as abnormal, unexpected and badly timed as it could get!
Harsh continued to sob uncontrollably and muttered something incoherent.
‘Harsh, get a grip!’ bellowed Kaavya.
Hearing his sister’s voice startled Harsh and he looked up as if surprised to see her standing there. ‘Bhaiyya, I really didn’t know if you would understand. Please try to understand,’ pleaded Harsh to his elder brother. Harsh continued to whimper while he tried to look at Rudra’s furious face.
All Rudra could think about was Anjana. He knew he was being selfish; he knew he might have reacted quite differently to this predicament if Anjana hadn’t been involved. But right now, everything was a haze. He started pacing the room while silently beseeching Kaavya to handle Harsh.
Kaavya was torn between her own principles and her love for her baby brother. She stopped herself from saying ‘How could you!’ and instead patiently asked him, ‘Harsh, we can talk about all this later. We definitely will. But right now, we need to find Anjana. Before she does anything stupid. Do you want that?’
Rudra shut his eyes. He couldn’t bear to imagine Anjana hurting herself. Just the thought enraged him enough to turn around and give Harsh a searing look – and then he softened. Didn’t he know what a sentimental fool his younger brother was? Hadn’t he told Harsh off a million times for wearing his heart on his sleeve?
Rudra heard Harsh say, ‘No, Kaavya, I don’t want that. I do love her, you know.’
Rudra couldn’t help but let out a sigh.
‘But I really don’t know where she might have gone.’
Bed, Breakfast and More
1 November, 2010
It was a beautiful morning and she stared at her image in the mirror. She was all set and had checked her bag and belongings a couple times already. But that didn’t help her nerves. Neither did it unravel the knot in the pit of her stomach.
NJ shook her head. She had thought about this enough and she had decided to go with Harsh. Now wasn’t the time to reconsider her options. Harsh needed her, and he’d been there for her when no one had – which indefinitely put her in his debt. It was time to plunge head first into trouble. She smiled at the irony as she walked out of the room.
‘Good morning, Sam!’ She smiled radiantly at her flatmate. ‘Is that super-fattening aloo paratha I smell?’
‘Yes, and stop worrying about putting on weight and eat up! You are perfect!’ Sam smiled back.
NJ, aka Anjana, was the best thing that had happened to Harsh. Apart from me, that is, Sam mused.
‘Has His Highness woken up yet?’ NJ asked Sam as she walked into Harsh’s bedroom.
‘Get up, Harsh! I woke you an hour ago. We need to leave for the airport in half an hour or we’re going to miss our flight.’
Harsh opened his eyes to find NJ hovering over him. ‘Go away,’ he moaned as he tried to shut his eyes and continue his blissful dream. Suddenly, it struck him. He was going home today, to his family. And he was going to introduce NJ to his family. Oops!
‘I’ll be ready in fifteen,’ he said, as he jumped off the bed and picked his towel on his way to the bathroom.
‘Hey NJ,’ he said, just before he closed the bathroom door, ‘I haven’t thanked you enough, angel.’
Before she could acknowledge her own indebtedness, the door had closed and the moment was gone. Why couldn’t she ever express her feelings? In the one year that she had been living with Harsh and Sam, she had never once been able to express her gratitude to them.
Anjana had come to Mumbai to try her luck as a deejay. She was twenty-four and she was just beginning with her life. Her parents had been offended by her choice of career, after all daughters of respectable families don’t become deejays and play music in parties. But music was her life and she had chosen to follow her dream instead of getting married and settling down. Her father was the most upset and though she loved him to bits, there were ghosts back home that wouldn’t let her continue to live her life. And so Anjana Deshpande became NJ.
She’d trusted Neeta, her childhood friend and had travelled to Mumbai from Nashik, a small town in Maharashtra. Though it was only a hundred and twenty kilometres from Mumbai by road, Nashik was years behind in terms of lifestyle, amenities and people. She could still remember the exhilaration she’d felt being in Mumbai for the first time. Mumbai – the city of dreams – would be the city she’d now call home. She’d dreamt of this moment for years, and when her dream came true, she hadn’t been able to stop smiling.
She soon started hunting for gigs as a DJ. However, with neither experience nor influence, her struggle turned out to be trickier and more difficult than she’d imagined. She’d met a few friends who had strongly suggested that she ‘compromise’ to get larger gigs, something she was dead against. Her morals and the values that she had been raised with wouldn’t allow her to trade sex for a job. Even though she wasn’t someone who believed in saving herself for her husband (if she ever did get married!), she didn’t treat sex casually.
Soon, she had started to run out of money and when Neeta began to politely hint that perhaps she should go back home, she knew she had overstayed her welcome. She didn’t have any money to survive on nor any friends to survive with. Though she had accepted defeat, she didn’t want to go back to her father’s triumphant smile and her mother’s snide comments. Besides, going home would mean getting married to the first guy her father
laid his eyes on! No, she couldn’t do it! She’d needed a chance – one more chance. And Harsh had given her that chance.
Harsh had met NJ at a Christmas party where she had played the introductory set. He had caught her right after with an offer to play at his New Year’s Eve party. Her potential was evident to him. Later when they got talking, he realized what a sweetheart she was – a foal stuck amongst wild mongrels. He couldn’t help but like her! And when she opened up and discussed her quandary, he offered her a temporary place in his house. ‘There is an extra room that you can sleep in,’ he’d said. And the matter had been closed, then and there.
That had been December 2009. It had been nearly a year now and her temporary status had changed to permanent. NJ had fit in with Harsh and Sam as if she’d always belonged. She couldn’t imagine life without them. At times, she wondered how she would cope when marriage was on the cards – if it ever was. She decided to be content with having Harsh and Sam in her life. Though, at times, she did wonder whether she would ever have what Harsh and Sam had in each other – a partner, a soulmate.
She looked at the closed bathroom door wondering if she ever came across as thankless to them. She wasn’t arrogant but her introvert, inexpressive nature bothered her sometimes. It seemed so easy for Harsh and Sam to express themselves. But whenever she tried to say heartfelt stuff, her brain seemed to clog and she seemed to lose her voice. She had to accept that she was never going to fully understand feelings and sentiments and love, or at least be able to express them.
NJ was brought back from her reverie by the sound of the clattering dishes from the kitchen. ‘Why the forlorn look, Sam?’ she asked as she walked in to check on him.
‘I still don’t understand why Harsh can’t come out to his family. Why does he have to act like a criminal and hide the truth?’ said Sam angrily, and sat down at the dining table with a sigh. ‘At times, I wonder if he’s embarrassed of what he is – of who we are.’
NJ knew there was nothing she could say to Sam that hadn’t already been spoken about in the past fortnight. In all the months that she’d been staying with the couple, she had never seen them distant, apart. Harsh and Sam were inseparable. They were poles apart in nature, but were the most compatible couple she knew. They understood each other perfectly and never had a difference of opinion that couldn’t be resolved over coffee. Up until now at least! The fights had begun when Harsh’s sister Kaavya’s wedding date had been fixed and Harsh had asked NJ to accompany him as his girlfriend instead of enlightening his parents and family about his sexual orientation.
Harsh didn’t have the guts to tell the truth to his family, not yet at least. Sam’s parents, who were divorcees married happily the second time around, were too busy with their own lives and new families to be bothered about Sam and his partner. But NJ, who’d been born and brought up in a close-knit family, understood the pressure it would put on Harsh – caught between the fear of being rejected and lying to his loved ones.
The Dishonest Journey Begins
1 November, 2010
‘I know … I love you too!’ Sam had muttered as Harsh had tried to explain his predicament. Harsh knew he was asking a lot of Sam. But he didn’t have too many choices. His family was one of the most respected families in Phalodi. He knew his family and he knew that his father would never be able to accept it – a gay couple might not be looked down upon in a metro like Mumbai, but in a small town like Phalodi, he would become a stigma. He didn’t want to disgrace his family, especially not in front of his sister’s in-laws. He told himself that it was only his love for his family that was preventing him from telling them the truth about Sameer and him.
With a last hug that spoke volumes about the tension between the couple, NJ and Harsh left for the airport.
‘It’ll be all right,’ NJ told Harsh – and herself. ‘We’ll be back in a week and we can all go back to our lives then. And no one in your family will be any wiser about your … errr … situation.’
Harsh walked on to the flight with a heavy heart, wondering why he had invented a girlfriend instead of simply telling his family that he was single. But in his heart, he knew he had wanted to play it safe. He didn’t want to be matched with a girl by his family, only to have the truth come out unpleasantly.
No, he thought. It is better this way.
NJ looked out of the window as the plane taxied towards the runway. The airhostess was in the middle of the safety demonstration and NJ wasn’t the least bit interested. She experienced a strange sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach that had nothing to do with the impending flight or air sickness.
NJ woke with a start as the flight attendant announced the landing of the flight.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Jodhpur. The outside temperature is twenty-three degrees Celsius and the time is 12.40 p.m. For your safety and comfort, kindly remain seated until the plane comes to a halt. You are now allowed to use your mobile phones and other electronic devices. On behalf of AirXpress and the entire crew, I’d like to thank you for flying with us. We look forward to serving you again. Have a nice day!’
‘Ready?’ Harsh asked.
NJ couldn’t help but smile and said, ‘As ready as I will ever be!’
They quickly got off the flight and waited at the baggage carousel for their suitcases, silently giving each other the strength that they themselves lacked. Whenever he’d had a chance in the past fortnight, Harsh had told NJ about his family. If she was to play his girlfriend, she needed to know his family better. As they walked out of the airport, she did a mental recap.
‘So, how far is Phalodi?’ NJ inquired.
Instead of answering, Harsh said, ‘That’s Rudra Bhaiyya,’ excitement reverberating through his words.
NJ followed Harsh’s eyes to look at the most strikingly handsome man she had ever seen. His tall frame and broad shoulders combined with a lean physique made him seem towering. An oval face with a wide forehead and a straight nose (which defined perfection), he looked good enough to have stepped directly out of a glam magazine. His handlebar moustache and beard were similar to the fad prevalent in Mumbai, but on Rudra, it didn’t just look stylish, it looked majestic.
The light-blue short shirt teamed with khaki pants looked casual yet so debonair. The top buttons of his shirt were casually left open, allowing NJ a peek at his neck and chest. The cotton of the shirt tantalizingly touched his chest hair, making NJ hope that she wasn’t blushing furiously. NJ could see that this was a man who was used to always getting his way. But it wasn’t until she looked straight into his eyes that she halted.
The feeling of being scanned inside-out by a pair of electrically charged eyes made her queasy and she stumbled as she was walking. She wondered if he was as menacing as he seemed, and as if he had heard her thoughts, he smiled.
If his looks and his personality hadn’t been enough to dazzle her, his dimpled smile mesmerized NJ completely. Though he was smiling at his younger brother and encouraging small talk, she could feel his gaze upon her. It made her wish she had checked herself in the mirror after getting off the flight.
Stop being stupid! she scolded herself. She had never been one to fawn over a man because of his looks – and this was Harsh’s brother! She had to consciously remind herself to behave. A long time ago, she’d vowed to not let men into her life and she intended to keep it that way. But she still couldn’t believe the jolt she’d felt when she had first met Rudra’s gaze.
‘Bhaiyya, this is NJ,’ she heard Harsh say. And with a huge effort, she smiled.
Homecoming
1 November, 2010
Rudra was used to having women fall for him all the time, and he’d always used his smile as a tool to disarm women. But when he laid his eyes on the petite woman with his brother, walking towards him, he was dumbstruck. She wasn’t extraordinarily beautiful, but she posed a challenge. He had seen her melt when he smiled, and then he had seen those walls go up in her eyes – the same way he built his own walls to
keep people away from his true self. A steely exterior in a woman earned extra brownie points from him.
‘NJ? What kind of name is that?’ asked Rudra, wanting her to speak.
‘It’s Anjana actually,’ she replied. ‘Anjana Deshpande.’
He was caught unawares by her voice – strong, firm and melodious.
‘It’ll be her first time in Phalodi,’ Harsh told Rudra.
And just like that, Rudra was brought back to reality. He felt ashamed of himself. All this while, he’d been checking his brother’s girlfriend out. No wonder she was immune to him, he thought. She was in love with Harsh.
Love – it was something he ached for, and yet something that he loathed. It had bound his parents together in lifelong matrimony and he wondered if he’d ever know the same happiness, if he would ever find his better half. At twenty-two, he’d met Lalita and she’d turned his world upside down. For the best two years of his life, or so he’d thought back then, she’d loved him and made him fall head over heels in love with her. And then one day, she had walked out on him – left him for a job opportunity. He hated being out of control and he’d never felt more vulnerable than when he was with Lalita. He had reasoned that it had been him who had given her the power to hurt him. It had been more than three years since then, but he never let his guard down. And he had decided, he wouldn’t, ever again.
But now wasn’t the time to think of stupid old days, he thought to himself, as he shook the memories off. In the meanwhile, their luggage was put in the car and soon they were on their way home. As Rudra caught up with Harsh’s Mumbai life, he couldn’t help but wonder why Anjana was sitting so quietly in the back seat.
She’s probably nervous because she’s meeting Harsh’s family for the first time, he thought.
And though he tried not look at her any more, he couldn’t help but glance in the rear-view mirror.
‘So what do you do, Anjana?’ he heard himself ask before he could stop.
NJ gasped at the way her name sounded on Rudra’s lips. Immediately, she was irritated at herself and her reaction. She had never reacted to a man like this and not trusting herself to sound stable, she steeled herself before answering, ‘I’m a deejay.’
