by Simi K. Rao
The boat hit a large swell making it totter to one side and Naina slid back on the deck. She grabbed for the railing, then smiled when a pair of strong arms wrapped around and held her up. Yes, this was exactly what she needed. Tenderness and support. The notion made her relax. As Shirin had said, she could trust him. She could trust her Rihaan.
The grip got uncomfortably tighter. She wiggled, laughing. “Stop it, Rihaan. I’m fine. Anyway, no one’s around that needs to see us!”
Then a sudden fear gripped her chest. No! What has got into me? It can’t be him! He is in Miami presenting a paper on some brand new surgical technique. He just left yesterday, beside himself with excitement!
Terrified, she clawed at the hands as they reached inside her coat, her nails digging into the flesh. The man let out a loud oath before releasing her. Wrenching around, she stared aghast at Rudy, Shirin’s errant husband.
“How…dare…you? What do you think you’re doing?”
“Sorry,” he muttered, not appearing so at all. “I thought you were Shirin.” He then stepped back and ambled away.
Naina remained rooted to the spot. She knew he was lying. Shirin was wearing a white jacket while Naina’s was charcoal grey. It was a deliberate act of vile mischief. But why?
She’d never felt this vulnerable before.
Rihaan, how I wish you were here.
***
It was 5 p.m. on New Year‘s Eve. Rihaan, done for the day, walked out of his office and was surprised to find Anna still there. But she wasn’t in her standard pink scrubs. Instead she wore a little black dress that accentuated her substantial curves, and she was busy texting on her phone.
He paused by her desk. “Expecting someone? By the way, you look stunning.”
She blushed, scrambling quickly to her feet. “Thank you. Yes, I’m waiting for my boyfriend.”
“Boyfriend? I didn’t know you had one.”
“I haven’t for a while, but I couldn’t go on living with a broken heart, could I?” she asked seriously. But when she saw his eyebrows scrunch together, she said, “Let’s just forget I said that. What plans do you have?”
“The usual. Drink a toast to the television and fall asleep well before midnight. I’m a pretty boring guy. Anyway, have a great night and watch out for the crazies.” He turned to walk away.
“Gosh doc! Flip out of it! You aren’t single anymore. You have a wife; a beautiful, loving wife. Take her out to dinner. Tell her how much you love her. Make it special.”
He gave her an odd look. “I’ll try Anna. Thanks for the idea.”
Later he stood at the bus stop (having opted for a different mode of transport that day) and hesitated.
Celebrations were already underway. Groups of revelers were cruising around, bright-eyed on dope and alcohol, and well underway to getting plastered. He spotted a couple of youngsters with pupils as wide as saucers. They’d be visiting the emergency room tonight and would play a deaf ear to all the advice because it was the New Year. It was another chapter in their lives with hope for change and happiness.
Anna was right. This year was different for him. He had a companion to share it with—his wife, Naina. She deserved a good time for all she had done for him. He observed the streams of customers drifting in and out of the gaily lit Amish Grocery store across the street. It was open late tonight.
The past few weeks in his life had gone rather smoothly. So smooth that it stunk! And it was all wrong, and so messed up!
He could see the change in Naina. Ever since he had returned from the conference she had been ignoring him. It was evident right away. She looked lost, absent in some other space. He missed her laugh, her smile, her witty repartees. Had it been something his mother had said, because when he’d inquired about the family jaunt, Naina had clammed up at once. He had picked up the phone intent on calling his ma and asking her to leave his wife alone. But on second thought, hadn’t. The move was bound to backfire. Naina would be condemned for something she hadn’t done.
The strain had begun to show, of living with a man like him who was so used to his own company. There’d been a few times he’d caught her looking at him with disappointment in her eyes.
And he felt it, too. The strain of spending each and every day with a beautiful and highly desirable woman in his house. He had consciously adopted a zero alcohol policy, for fear of losing control. But he was by no means an ascetic and the effort was draining.
One night, he thought he heard muffled sobs coming from the bedroom. He should have, like any normal husband, gone to her, consoled her, asked her what was wrong. But he hadn’t, afraid of what she might say—that he was the source of her troubles. That he was the problem.
No, he thought. Naina doesn’t deserve a man like me nor a life like this. She deserves a lot more. Much, much more.
***
Naina didn’t return into the building. She preferred to wait on the sidewalk, even though she couldn’t keep her extremities from going painfully numb, despite rubbing and fidgeting with her gloved hands and warm boot-clad feet. She was excited. On edge. Rihaan had asked her out on a date tonight. Well, not really. Yet he’d sort of made it appear so in his text:
Naina, let’s celebrate the first 6 weeks of our ‘marriage’ with dinner and talk about the future. Later perhaps welcome the New Year on Times Square?
It’d be the first time they would meet by design and in the absence of his family. Maybe it’d all come to nothing. Still, it was a beginning.
Or had he conned her? She had been waiting fifteen minutes already…
Suddenly he was there, the handsome bastard, terrifying her out of her wits, holding a large bouquet of red carnations in his hand and saying, “Here, take these. The flowers are for you.”
“Oh.” She was stumped for words.
“Don’t you like them?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.
“Of course I do! They are gorgeous! Thank you.”
“Well, it wasn’t any effort. I got them at a grocery store right across from work.”
She regarded him indulgently. Just like him to make it sound inconsequential. “But the idea was yours, wasn’t it?”
He shrugged and grinned boyishly. “Guess it was.” Then taking her arm, he steered her toward the crosswalk. “C’mon girl, let’s not waste any more time. I’m crazy hungry!”
But they were forced to step back when a long black limo drew to a halt right in front of them. A man in a black dinner jacket jumped out causing Rihaan to let out a loud curse. “I’m sorry, Naina, I’ve nothing to do with this.” He looked at her. “This man thrust himself on me.”
“Playing hooky with the very person who gave you a ride. Talk about gratitude!” The man in the dinner jacket swaggered over to them.
“Shut up, Rudy. Go and take care of your wife. Naina and I plan to have a cozy dinner together. It’s been awhile.”
“Has it? How terrible. Hey Naina. You look ill. Has our dear Rihaan been ignoring you?” Rudy sneered.
“Naina?” Rihaan examined her. Indeed, she had turned pale as a sheet.
Shirin emerged from the car pulling her stole tightly around her shoulders. “Rudy, do as Rihaan says. Leave them alone.”
“Hmm… Shirin don’t be cruel,” Rudy said, but his eyes were focused on Naina. “Rihaan’s poor wife is sick. Perhaps we can drop them somewhere?”
They got inside the limo but it was a quiet ride. Unfortunately, Rihaan’s tardy attempts in securing a table for two proved disastrous causing Rudy to magnanimously offer to share his own. Shirin squeezed Naina’s hand as she gazed morosely out of the window. They were dropped off at an exclusive Japanese restaurant.
“I feel horribly out of place, Rudy,” Rihaan said as he took in the elegantly turned out clientele. “Please do excuse us. Naina and I prefer something slightly more modest.”
“Oh you are
n’t cramping my style at all. In fact, your beautiful wife is enhancing it considerably,” Rudy retorted, plucking Naina from Rihaan’s side much to his chagrin.
They all sat uncomfortably at a table while Rudy carried on a pompous monologue.
“How was your sightseeing tour, Shirin?” Rihaan asked her with a smile. She looked miserable.
“It was horrible! I hated it!” she cried.
“It was wonderful,” Rudy interjected with a broad grin. “And I can assure you bud, your wife had the time of her life. She didn’t miss you at all.”
Rihaan felt as if he’d been punched in the chest. He looked sharply at Naina, but found her staring steadfast at the sushi chef who stood near their table accomplishing the impossible—juggling an egg yolk.
The broad steel spatula flew high in the air. Shirin jumped and ran screaming out toward the door.
Rudy stood up and went after her. Rihaan and Naina followed. “Now what?” Rudy snapped when she refused to go back in.
“How could you, Rudy?” Shirin screamed. “When you know I am allergic to the very smell of the sea. And I bet you hired the man to murder me. Look at me while I’m speaking.”
“You aren’t worth looking at!”
“Really?” Shirin scowled at him. “What’s your problem?”
“My problem is that I married a girl who is pregnant. I can’t recognize her. She looks like a disgruntled hippo. And I don’t even know if it’s my child!”
“Rudy! How can you think that? You know very well I was an innocent when I met you!”
He rolled his eyes. “Sorry. A pregnant wife is overwhelming. I need to get drunk.”
Shirin suddenly clutched her belly and collapsed to the ground. “I think I need to go to the hospital!”
“For heaven’s sake! Give me a break!” Rudy yelled at her.
“I think this could be serious. She may be having contractions,” Naina said anxiously to Rihaan when she saw Shirin double up.
And even though Rihaan thought the contractions were false he wasted no time in summoning a cab and packing both husband and wife to the closest ER, which he alerted by calling ahead.
Naina looked on curiously as Rihaan chatted with the ER doc.
“Hi, Ben. How’s business?” Rihaan asked. “Not much going on? Don’t give up hope. The night’s still young… Listen old chap, I’d like you to do me a favor. I’m sending over my friend’s wife. She’s about six months or so pregnant and is having pains. They started tonight when we were at a restaurant having dinner together… No, she hadn’t had anything to eat yet… My gut tells me they aren’t real but a little reassurance goes a long way especially if it comes from someone like you.” He grinned. “Thanks for taking a look at her. Her names’s Shirin and she’s got her husband with her. He could do with some psychotherapy too…”
Later, when they were alone again, Naina asked, “So you think she’ll be fine?”
“Yes. I believe so. Shirin will be A-okay!” He smiled. “The little drama queen wanted to teach her wayward husband a lesson. Besides, how could I ignore my wife’s opinion?”
“You’re so bloody confident about it all, aren’t you?” Naina shot back.
He burst out laughing. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to sound like that. It’s habit. I’ll try hard to curb my instincts in the future, if you wish.”
“No. Don’t. I like it,” she said and blushed. “Anyhow, at least this way we get some peace and quiet.”
And sure enough, despite the merrymaking all around them, the environment seemed tranquil as they strolled companionably through the streets, window shopping and getting blinded by the dazzling colors of the night. They satisfied their hunger at an all-night deli before steering toward the overcrowded Times Square.
“Wait!” Rihaan suddenly exclaimed before running inside a small trinket store.
He emerged a few minutes later with a Wonder Woman pin that he fastened to her coat.
“For me?” she exclaimed, nonplussed.
“Yes for you,” he replied softly. “For being so good to me. I hope I can repay you for it all someday. Until then, keep this as a reminder.”
There were several street vendors doing brisk business. Rihaan grabbed a large hot chocolate for himself. “We need something to toast with. What would you prefer?”
“I’m not thirsty,” Naina politely refused.
***
As soon as they entered the famed square, she was overcome by a pulse of excitement that seemed to throb through the entire gathering. She knew Rihaan felt it too, even though he didn’t mention it. She glanced up and saw him looking at her and not at the stage where Bruce Springsteen was belting out “Born in the USA.” Rihaan’s eyes were unusually bright.
She shivered. “You said you wanted to talk?”
“Not now, later,” he said loudly before folding her tight against his chest. “So you don’t get lost.”
She didn’t care if he was lying or telling the truth. It was the best prescription he could have made out for her. She rested her head on the soft wool of his coat and closed her eyes, abruptly seized by an overwhelming urge to peel away the layers and connect with his bare flesh. She grew warm at the thought.
A sudden hush descended on the crowd and the countdown began. She watched with baited breath at the glittering crystal ball as it dropped, but her vision was obscured when a pair of sensuous lips came down hard upon hers.
Hot chocolate never tasted so good.
Sweet Love, Harsh Words
Late one evening Rihaan returned to the apartment and immediately stepped back to check the number. He wasn’t hallucinating, it was undoubtedly his. The reason for his ambiguity was legitimate: the usually quiet and peaceful place was abuzz with activity, and the ambience that greeted him was most decidedly desi—the man of the house; in this case his father, lounged in front of the living room television, sipping fresh kadak chai, while the females (his mother and wife he presumed) generated domestic fervor in the kitchen.
His eyes automatically sought the couch and were relieved to see no traces of his bedtime accoutrements.
“My son! Welcome home. Long day at work?” Shashank exclaimed, half rising from his seat.
“Why are you here?” Rihaan retorted, not particularly elated.
“Oh c’mon beta!” Shobha cajoled, smiling cheerfully, as she emerged bustling from the kitchen. “Give your parents some leeway. We were in the neighborhood and decided to surprise bahu at work and she graciously invited us home. Right, Shashank?” She glanced pointedly at her spouse who concurred.
“Naina is a very smart girl. She understands that I want to indulge in my mother-in-law instincts which you’ve so efficiently managed to curb. But more than that, I wanted to see my son and his wife playing house for real. Ghee seedhi ungli se na nikle, toh ungli tedhi karni padti hai.” (If we don’t find a way, we have to make one.) She gave a wistful sigh before heading back.
He followed, intent on making it clear, that just because he’d taken a wife, by no means did it give her, his mother, free reign over his life. But what he saw there brought an immediate diversion to his purpose—the image of his beautiful wife wrapped in a traditional sari. It was a simple yet clever garment worn with a dual purpose in mind—to please her in-laws by presenting them a vision of ideal domestic harmony, while simultaneously promising her husband never-ending conjugal bliss. The lure of the unstitched garment was such that it transformed his already lovely wife into a beguiling apsara causing his nerve endings to go on edge thus making him lose control over all his senses.
“The paneer is burning,” Shobha said, gently removing the spatula from her daughter-in-law’s hand. “Rihaan! Stop making your biwi nervous.” She popped a couple of savory pakoras into his startled mouth. “Now leave us women to our work and take your Dad outdoors. I want to air the apartment. The smoke tends to
irritate his lungs.”
Shobha unceremoniously hustled both father and son out and began throwing open the windows.
But as soon as they were on the street Shashank dug into the inner realms of his overcoat and produced a cigarette. He then proceeded to light it.
“Dad!” Rihaan exclaimed. “I thought you said you had quit.”
“I have,” his father replied after taking a long drag. “But sometimes I like to smoke because it helps me think.”
“Think?” Rihaan broke into a short laugh. “It only helps you die a nasty death.”
“You’re being exceptionally blunt today, son.”
“Yes, but sometimes ‘blunt’ is what works,” Rihaan replied unfazed.
“Alright, then I’ll be forthright with you too,” his father said looking him straight in the eye. “Something wrong between you and Naina?”
“No, absolutely not. Whatever gave you the idea? Anyhow, I don’t appreciate you poking your nose into my personal business. Mom has done enough damage as is.” Rihaan looked down, embarrassed, his eyes fixed on his shoes.
“It is my business,” Shashank remained steadfast. “You are and so is your wife. She’s now my daughter and her happiness is my concern. I understand in a new relationship there can be some rough spots, but you chose her and it is obvious she chose you. Perhaps you both rushed into it, but it’s been awhile now and she’s a gem. It’s hard for me to believe that you don’t get along. I’d love to help if I could.”
“You can’t, because nothing’s wrong. Not a damn thing!” Rihaan said, leaning back against the iron fence, his lips pursed into a thin line.
“You were a wonderful boy who has grown into a wonderful man and I’d also like to say a loving husband. But I’m concerned you’re not happy.”
