Where the Secret Lies

by Gandhi, Malika

  ‘Ari...’

  ‘Yes Jai?’

  ‘Did you ever...love Nikhil?’

  ‘I felt close to him, I thought we knew each other and I trusted him. I don’t know if it was love...he was a charmer me and I fell. I never thought he would deceive me.’

  ‘I am sorry to hear that Ari.’

  ‘Well he’s gone now and I don’t want to talk about him anymore.’

  ‘That’s the best way,’ Jai lay down, putting his arms behind his head.

  Arianna lay down too, letting herself be immersed under the rays of the hot sun. She listened to the sound of nature and drank in the sweet smell of tranquillity.

  ‘Ari, is this yours?’ Jai picked up the diary.

  Khushboo and Tianna gathered around.

  Arianna hadn’t forgotten about the diary, she just didn’t want to think about it. Since Jai arrived, she wanted to spend all of her time with him and everything else was a distraction.

  She looked at the diary and then at the three. Should she tell them? The diary was so personal...

  ‘You have permission,’ said a voice inside her head. Arianna started.

  ‘Who said that?’

  ‘I asked if this diary was yours?’ said Jai.

  ‘Oh...’

  ‘Are you alright?’ asked Khushboo. ‘You seem...what is the word?’

  ‘Odd,’ said Tianna. ‘Ari, are you sure you are fine. You seem freaked out.’

  ‘I am fine guys...listen, this may sound silly and even absurd, but what I am going to say is true.’

  ‘We’re listening,’ said Tianna.

  Arianna told them everything – the conversations between Jignesh, Alok, Rani, and their auntie about the haveli and the door. She explained how came upon it opened and found personal items inside the room.

  ‘The maid acted strange. She spoke to me, took me inside the room, and handed me this diary. What do you think it all means?’

  ‘Wait,’ said Khushboo. ‘Are you telling us you entered the room of the door that never opens, found personal items and acquired a diary of a person called Anjali?’

  ‘Great summary,’ said Arianna sarcastically. ‘I knew you wouldn’t believe me.’

  ‘Have you read the diary?’ Jai asked.

  Arianna shook her head. Tianna opened the diary and flicked through its pages.

  ‘It’s empty.’

  ‘It can’t be,’ said Arianna. She grabbed the diary and imitated her sister’s actions. Every page had an entry. ‘The diary is not empty Ti. Look.’

  Jai and Khushboo looked through the diary and came with the same conclusion: it was blank.

  ‘How is it possible that I can see the writing, yet you don’t? What black magic is this?’

  ‘Ari, you are freaking me out. You should put the diary back from where it came from,’ said Tianna.

  ‘I think so too,’ said Khushboo. ‘I don’t know...this diary and your behaviour...if you did go near the room, you might be jinxed.’

  Arianna wanted to shout and make them believe she was telling the truth. She was not mad...oh!

  Was she only able to “see”? Why? Again the questions came: what connection did she have with this haveli?

  ‘I believe you,’ Jai said when they were alone. ‘I know you; this is not something you would make up.’

  ‘Thanks Jai,’ Arianna said but did not smile.

  ‘I don’t think you are crazy.’

  ‘I am glad someone believes me,’ said Arianna. ‘But why can’t you or anyone else see the diary entries and I can? Why Jai?’

  ‘I wish I could give you an answer but whatever you are experiencing, perhaps it is only for you to understand...and when you do and you get all the answers, I will be listening.’

  Arianna waited until Tianna and Khushboo fell asleep. She switched on the night lamp and took the diary from under her pillow, and began to read.

  ANJALI

  TWENTY-SIX

  Anjali was aware Mohan wanted peace in the haveli and wished she and Tehzeeb would get along, perhaps Tehzeeb was trying but she was not and never would. She was tired of her false sweetness, her constant chatter, and her unlimited show of love to the children, including her own. She detested how her children called her Bari Ma (elder mother), giving way to her to be part of the family. Tehzeeb arrived five months ago but to Anjali, it seemed longer.

  Her friends talked and laughed behind her back. They also laughed to her face and taunted her for being the mistress and the second wife. They could not understand why she had not asked for a divorce.

  Divorce? No, she could not ask him for a divorce. Where would she go? She would not give Tehzeeb the satisfaction! She loved Mohan...but he loved Tehzeeb, will she always be in the shadows?

  ‘You are nothing to him,’ said Mrs Shah.

  ‘That’s not true!’ cried Anjali.

  ‘Why does he sleep with her and not you?’ Mrs Shah gave a look that said she was right.

  ‘How did you know that?’

  ‘Word gets out, it always does,’ replied Mrs Shah, sighing.

  Anjali had looked towards her mother for support.

  ‘Anjali, Mohan is your husband and Tehzeeb is his first wife. You cannot expect him to stop loving her, as she cannot expect the same of you. This is God’s decision, and you must accept.’

  Anjali was at a loss; must she admit defeat?

  Only Rajesh made her happy. He made her smile, feel wanted and important. His love may only be infatuation and lust, but Anjali liked it.

  He went back to Bombay eventually. He explained he had meetings with producers and directors, and he would be busy with his shooting schedules. Anjali bid him goodbye, hoping to see him soon.

  Before he left, he spent his last night with her. It was Tehzeeb’s turn to spend the night with her Mohan and Anjali still burned. She took all her frustrations out on Rajesh as they made ardent love.

  The summer months arrived with Anjali’s better mood

  – Rajesh was coming.

  ‘I have arranged something special,’ Mohan announced as they had breakfast. ‘Rajesh is bringing a photographer and his make-up artist. He wants to gift us a present, is not that wonderful?’

  ‘Will he be taking photographs of the children?’ asked Tehzeeb.

  ‘Not only the children but all of us. The make-up artist will make you ladies more beautiful than you already are and the children pretty and handsome,’ Mohan’s eye twinkled.

  The children were excited, Tehzeeb looked pleased, and Anjali had butterflies in her stomach. She had not seen Rajesh in over three months...

  ‘Rajesh will come tonight; the photographer and the make-up artist will arrive tomorrow. We shall have the pictures taken after lunch. I expect everyone to wear their best clothes and children; I want clean faces. Understood?’

  The children nodded their head vigorously and Anjali actually laughed. Mohan turned his face towards her; a look of love and warmth, of longing...?

  Anjali styled her hair as Rajesh liked it and added pink rouge to her cheek, highlighting her cheekbones. She arranged her soft tendrils around her face.

  She wore a red sari and a tight blouse on purpose; she wanted to see hunger in Rajesh when he arrived. She wanted him to want her.

  Mohan stood still and stared at her as she made her way down the stairs. She smiled; she still had her charm. Mohan took her hand and kissed her cheek.

  ‘You look beautiful,’ he whispered seductively in her ear.

  Anjali touched her cheek, his warmth lingered. The night she met him and his manliness, came rushing back to her. She remembered the early days of their union...

  Rajesh arrived earlier than expected, surprising everyone.

  ‘Namaste Bhabhi,’ he greeted Anjali as a sister-in- law. He looked her straight in the eye.

  ‘I hope you had a pleasant journey,’ Anjali replied in a polite tone.

  They stood, hands clasped until Mohan cleared his throat and came to stand between them. Anjali moved a l
ittle back, confused at Mohan’s behaviour.

  Mohan and Rajesh stared at each other and Anjali was surprised to see a shadow of hostility between the two men, then Rajesh smiled.

  ‘I am quite tired,’ he said. ‘Tehzeeb bhabhi, can you show me to my room?’

  ‘Is everything alright between you and Rajesh?’ asked Anjali as Mohan came into their bed. He laid his head on her bosom.

  Anjali let her hands roam his hair and shoulders. Mohan sighed and took her hands.

  ‘Do you love me?’ he asked, sitting up.

  ‘Yes, of course I do,’ Anjali was shocked by such a question. ‘Why do you ask?’

  Mohan seemed to think about something and then shook his head.

  ‘Come here, I need you...I want you.’

  Mohan leaned into her and kissed her hard, his hands roamed her back. He pulled the string of the blouse and loosened the cloth, caressing her smooth skin. Anjali sighed – she had wanted him for such a long time.

  Mohan untied her hair and let it fall on her shoulders. He pulled back to look at her and stared into her eyes, drinking her lust. He began to kiss her neck and shoulders and unravelled her sari, throwing it to the floor.

  Anjali unbuttoned his shirt and kissed his chest.

  ‘Anjali, I love you...’ he whispered.

  There was a loud banging on the door.

  ‘Papa, please come...Bari Ma is calling. Zakira...’

  Mohan opened his eyes and began to get up; Anjali pulled him back.

  ‘Ignore her. Don’t go Mohan ji,’ she said.

  The child banged on the door again.

  ‘I have to go, Anjali,’ Mohan untangled himself and quickly dressed.

  He opened the door. ‘What happened? What is wrong?’

  ‘It is Zakira, Papa. She is not well.’

  Without a glance backwards, Mohan rushed away to Tehzeeb and Zakira; Anjali forgotten.

  She waited and waited. She glanced at the clock. The time was now 12.30 in the morning. She sighed and got

  out of bed. She went to the balcony corridor and saw Mohan walking towards Tehzeeb’s room with a pitcher of water. He entered her room but did not come back out. Anjali turned back to her room with tears in her eyes.

  Anjali picked up the vase from the sideboard and threw the flowers aside. She turned it upside down and let the water splash onto the floor. She raised the vase.

  ‘I do not think that is wise, my dear Anjali,’ Rajesh said from the doorway. He entered and took the vase from her, placing it back on the sideboard.

  ‘Rajesh...it is late, you should be in your room,’ said Anjali.

  Rajesh began to kiss her neck and unbuttoned her blouse. Anjali felt his need against her hips. Picking her up, he carried her to the bed. Sweet searing pain cascaded down Anjali as Rajesh’s tongue slid down to her abdomen. He dipped his head into her breasts and did things to her she never experienced. The tongue flickered around her hard nipples and she moaned.

  ‘Oh Mohan...’

  Rajesh stopped. ‘What did you say?’

  ‘I didn’t...’

  ‘You said “Mohan”.’ Rajesh’s eyes flashed. He grabbed Anjali’s hair and yanked her towards him.

  Anjali cried out; Rajesh put his hand over her mouth.

  ‘Shut up, my dear Anjali...now listen carefully. I will not repeat myself. You are mine and mine only. You want me, not Mohan – do you understand?’ Rajesh’s tone was harsh and alien to Anjali. She was scared.

  ‘Rajesh, please, let me go. You are hurting me,’ she cried.

  Rajesh let her go but he did not go away as she expected. He slapped her and then lowered himself down on her.

  ‘Please Rajesh, don’t do it.’

  ‘It’s too late to plead, my dear Anjali.’

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  The photographer arrived after lunch with the make-up artist as Mohan had said. The artist set to work immediately on Tehzeeb.

  Anjali went to her room and subconsciously dressed in a pale gold sari. She adorned herself with gold bangles and a large necklace. Mohan liked her in this sari...she wanted Rajesh to see her love for her husband; she wanted to see him in pain.

  She shivered remembering the previous night. How could Rajesh do that to her? Did he not respect her? Did he not care for her? Their affair was supposed to be pleasurable. He slapped her...when did he turn into a monster?

  “You should pity yourself, you have sinned Anjali and the sin has come back and hurt you”. The laughter echoed in her ears.

  ‘Stop it! Stop it please!’

  The laughter ceded.

  ‘Anjali, there you are! Anj – ’ Mohan gazed at her. ‘Oh, Anjali.’

  ‘Is the photographer ready?’ she spoke with a clipped tone. There was no smile on her face.

  ‘Yes, Tehzeeb and the children are already waiting,’ Mohan’s smile disappeared. ‘I am truly sorry for last night. I didn’t expect – ’

  ‘The photographer is waiting, Mohan ji,’ Anjali brushed past him.

  The photographer stood up from his chair when Anjali entered the room. His reaction at seeing her was not surprising; she ignored his stare and looked towards Tehzeeb, who was, she was pleased to see, dressed simply.

  Rajesh sat in the corner. His cold stare put shivers down Anjali’s spine but her attention on him waned when the photographer asked her to stand next to her girls and Tehzeeb to stand on the other side. Mohan wanted a picture of his wives with the children first. Anjali put her hands on her two daughters but did not smile when the photographer clicked the flash.

  Mohan planned a picnic for the family, and to Anjali’s chagrin invited Rajesh. They arrived at a lovely park, which overlooked vast hills and a waterfall. Flowers blossomed, with their fragrance rich in the air. Mohan inhaled and put his arm around Anjali. Rajesh shot her a dark look.

  ‘Girls, stay away from the boundaries. It is not safe,’ she said.

  Tehzeeb took the children to the other side where it was safe to play.

  ‘What a wonderful idea to have a picnic,’ Rajesh said in a dull tone, after they finished their lunch. ‘We must do this again.’

  ‘Yes Bhai Saab, why not? It makes a nice change from the day to day running of the haveli,’ said Tehzeeb enthusiastically.

  ‘If you find it time consuming then perhaps you should not interfere, Tehzeeb,’ said Anjali haughtily.

  ‘Didi, I didn’t mean that. I am just saying it is nice being outside for a change. Mohan loves the haveli and I could never neglect it.’

  ‘Where is Mohan?’ asked Rajesh.

  ‘He is playing with the children. He loves them so much and will do anything for them,’ Tehzeeb said proudly. ‘When they were born, he would not leave their side.’

  ‘I could never neglect it,’ mimicked Anjali when Tehzeeb went to Mohan a little later on.

  ‘It is a shame, is it not my darling Anjali, that Mohan spends most of his time with Tehzeeb than with you,’ Rajesh took a sip from his flask.

  ‘Don’t call me darling and I wish you to never speak to me again. You disgust me and I will not forgive what you did to me!’

  ‘I am going tomorrow,’ Rajesh carried on. ‘Perhaps one more night...?’

  ‘Don’t believe I won’t tell. Are all actors the same as you? You think you can do whatever you want to a girl because you are a star. If that is true, I pity the whole film industry.’

  ‘You came to me. If I recall correctly, you didn’t mind when I touched you, kissed your breasts...and pleasured you...’

  ‘How dare you!’ Anjali wanted to slap him, but not here. Instead, she walked away, furious at him and at herself.

  She was to blame and she knew it. She should never have allowed him to touch her...her life was falling apart and she could do nothing about it.

  Her own family had deserted her when she needed them most, and now Mohan...she watched him and Tehzeeb with the children – a perfect family – together. No one missed her.

  Tehzeeb seemed to sense Anjali for sh
e looked up and met her eyes. She said something to Mohan and began to walk in her direction. Anjali turned away. She would rather die than let Tehzeeb see her weak and vulnerable.

  ‘Go away!’ Anjali shouted at her.

  ‘Why are you upset, didi? Wait.’

  Anjali ran.

  ‘Didi, wait!’ she heard Tehzeeb shout as a ferocious wind blew around them.

  Anjali tried to go faster but the wind was too strong. Tehzeeb was within reach.

  She saw a tall building ahead of her and she began to head in that direction. Out of breath, she reached the steps and climbed the open staircase. The wind became wild, blowing her hair around her face.

  ‘Didi, do not go up there. It is dangerous!’ Tehzeeb screamed from below.

  The rains came as Anjali reached the top step, leading her to an open roof. For a few moments, the beautiful scene in front stunned her. The rain seemed to mist the view of the rising hills. The river below swelled as it ran towards its destination. Anjali, now soaked through, could not take her eyes off what lay before her; she was mesmerised.

  ‘Didi,’ Tehzeeb voice brought Anjali back. ‘Didi, please come with me. We need to find shelter, you are soaked.’

  ‘Just go Tehzeeb. Leave me alone.’

  ‘Have I done something to upset you? Why are you behaving this way?’

  ‘What do you care? You must be pleased to take Mohan ji away from me. Congratulations.’

  ‘What are you talking about, didi? Mohan ji is mine as he is yours. I have come to accept that. Did you think I was not jealous of you and Mohan ji, who was my husband first? Did you not think I abhorred the idea of him marrying another girl, far younger than I and fathering her children? I had to learn to accept this fate and you must too!’

  Both were standing near the edge of the roof. The rain was coming down harder.

  ‘It’s dangerous up here. Come, please didi,’ Tehzeeb tried to take Anjali’s arm.

  ‘Don’t touch me Tehzeeb,’ Anjali yanked her hand away.

  Then it happened. She did not know how, or why, or what went through her mind. Anjali saw red that blistered her inside; she saw her arms lift and her hands flatten against Tehzeeb’s chest. She pushed...a piercing scream left Tehzeeb as she went spiralling down, landing with a dull thud. Her limbs askew and her hair sprawled around her face – Tehzeeb was dead.