Manish and Saloni had liked each other on meeting. He was smart, good-looking and seemed to have a rocking career at a hospital in Chicago. Saloni made a mistake though. It never struck her to ask him about working opportunities in the USA for an NRI wife. She had presumed that with her qualifications, it would be too easy. The two of them were married with the blessings of both families and Manish returned to the USA, leaving his two-day old wife behind to get her papers in order and travel to Chicago at the first opportunity.
In the first few weeks of going to her husband’s home, Saloni had been happy with all the socialising they did. Manish had so many friends and colleagues who wanted to invite the newly married couple to their homes. Manish, too, threw parties at every opportunity he got. Saloni was a really good cook and Manish had been thrilled to show off her skills, throwing parties at every opportunity.
But it all began to wane after a while. Saloni realised two things. First, that it wasn’t so easy going to work in the USA, despite the qualifications that she possessed since she didn’t have the right work permit or visa. And secondly—this one she had a tough time admitting even to herself—her husband had never wanted a career woman for his wife. He wanted to show off his well-educated housewife to all the people he knew.
“Manish.” They had just made love or rather Manish had had his pleasure with Saloni, not bothered if she had been satisfied, when she opened the conversation. “Can’t we move to Delhi? We both...”
Manish sat up with a start, glaring at his wife. He had almost gone to sleep when he heard her talk. “Are you crazy Saloni? You do know how much I earn here, don’t you? I’ll never make that kind of money in India. You think I’m a fool or what?”
Saloni placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, hoping to pacify him. “Manish, you left India more than ten years ago. Things have changed. If you set up a private clinic there and are attached to a hospital too, you can easily make a lot of money. And I can also get a job. Between us, we can make way more than the two of us can spend in our lifetime. Please...”
“Shut up!” Manish panicked. He didn’t want to go back to India. Today, he spoke so proudly to all his Indian relatives and friends about the rocking life he led in Chicago. What would they all think if he moved back now, and that too just because his wife wanted him to? “Why can’t you adjust to our lives here? You did know what you were signing up for when you agreed to marry me, right? You aren’t being fair to me Saloni. I’ve worked so hard, completing my education and setting up my career here, sometimes working 12-14 hours a day. How dare you try to uproot me at this point in my life?” He had a good mind to slap his wife.
“But Manish, I also worked hard to get my post-grad degree. It’s all lying waste now. You know that I can’t work here. I...”
“What does it matter? At the end of all this, isn’t a woman’s place in the kitchen? And listen Saloni, you’re such a good cook. Everyone’s praising the meals that you turn out, such different cuisines too.” Manish smiled, trying to cajole her. But she didn’t fail to notice that he didn’t touch her. Manish never hugged her nor were there those tender touches that usually happen between a married couple. The only time he got close to within touching distance was when they had sex, which was maybe a couple of times in a week, only if and when he instigated it. He usually ignored her if Saloni made any overtures. She had eventually given up after trying a few times.
Manish continued to talk, “You keep our home so beautiful and neat. I’ll tell you what? Let’s have a baby. Then maybe you won’t feel so bored. In fact, my mom has been asking me about this every time I call her. She so wants to be a grandmother.” He laughed as if he had found the solution to all her problems.
But what a reason to have a baby, just so that she won’t be bored! Saloni wanted to scream at her husband or even hit him. She would have done just that, if she had believed it would have made a difference to her life.
Saloni came back to the present when she saw Mitesh’s face crumble. It was past 2 am and he must be wet. She changed his diaper before feeding him and rocking him to sleep. Pressing her lips to the baby’s forehead, she couldn’t help recalling the scene when Aarav had done exactly that.
A deep sigh shuddered through Saloni’s being as she forced to the deep recesses of her mind the thoughts that arouse within her about Aarav. He had only got handsomer than before. And his hair was as silky as ever.
No! Saloni shook her head, holding tightly to her son, like a talisman. She wouldn’t let her thoughts go there as that way lay deep pain.
4
It was barely 6.30 in the morning. Aarav jogged more than usual the morning after Ruma’s wedding, sweat pouring down his face as he pounded his way around the jogging track in the building complex he lived in at Gurgaon, his mind working furiously. Going to the Malhotra residence had been the first mistake. Connecting with Saloni’s infant son had been the second one. Falling all over in love again with...
Aarav stopped suddenly, bending down as his breath came out in gasps, his hands pressed to his knees. He never got breathless while jogging, like never. Damn it all the hell! He had believed that he was home safe after pushing the thoughts of Saloni deep within the recesses of his mind. It had taken but one eye contact to rekindle the raw feelings that he still nurtured for her. His mother had stopped asking him to get married once he made it clear that he didn’t want to take the responsibility of making another woman unhappy as he couldn’t love anyone after Saloni.
Saloni! Aarav straightened up, a small smile on his face as he wiped his face and neck with a hand towel and drank deeply from the bottle of water that he had placed on a bench on the side of the track...
It was a little more than nine years ago when Aarav rang the doorbell of the Malhotras’ duplex at about 7.30 in the morning. His eyes went wide as he stared unblinking at the vision that had opened the door for him. The girl must have been in her teens, wearing a sweater over her full length cotton pyjamas, her hair tousled as if she had just got out of bed. Large, brown eyes stared right back at him, the thick and curling eyelashes fluttering rapidly.
“Who are you?” she had asked him, her voice commanding, a shapely eyebrow rising up to touch her hairline.
“I’m Aarav Chopra. Is Shantanu uncle home?” he said, his voice gruff due to his dried up throat, as his heart insisted on beating double time.
She turned her head towards inside, a hand still holding the door as if to bar him from entering the flat, as she called out, “Daadaji, there’s someone to meet you.”
Shantanu Malhotra stepped out of a room to the side of the living room and waved to Aarav, “Aarav beta, aa jao andhar. Saloni, ask Vinayak to bring a cup of tea.” The old man pointed to a chair, indicating that Aarav should sit down as the latter walked into the living room to stand awkwardly, his arms folded against his chest.
Her name was Saloni. Aarav swallowed, feeling an unfamiliar pressure in his chest. He had never set eyes on a more beautiful young woman in his life.
“Ji uncle,” said Aarav, sitting on the chair.
“How’s Tejpal now? Did you take him to a doctor?” asked Shantanu, concern in his voice. He didn’t notice Saloni turning to stare at the young man, a surprised look on her face.
“Pappa is better, uncle. Only, the doctor has insisted that he take bed rest for at least two days. If you don’t mind, I can drive you around,” suggested Aarav, his voice soft.
Shantanu smiled, patting the younger man’s shoulder affectionately. “But won’t you need to go to college? I don’t want you to take leave unnecessarily.”
Aarav looked up at the kind, old eyes and said, “Pappa said that you need to be dropped at your office and picked up in the evening. My college is from noon till 5 pm, uncle. I can drive you and also attend college.”
“Have some tea,” said Shantanu when Vinayak, the cook, brought a cup. “Alright then. I’ll be ready to leave at 8.30 am.”
Aarav nodded. “I’ll clean the car if you will gi
ve me the keys, uncle,” he said, sipping from the tea cup. It was with great difficulty that he stopped his eyes from straying towards the gorgeous Saloni who still stood at the back of the living room, obviously listening to the conversation.
“Sure,” said Shantanu. Saloni rushed forward with the car keys even before her grandfather could ask for them.
“Here,” she offered the keys to Aarav.
Aarav felt something akin to a bolt of lightning when his fingers brushed against Saloni’s as he took the keys from her. He got up with a jerk. “Can you show me the wash basin? Let me wash my tea cup.”
“Leave it on the table, Aarav,” said Shantanu.
Aarav nodded, turned around and left, his heart pounding.
He shook his head to himself many times as he washed the black Mercedes car. It was sheer idiocy to fall for Shantanu uncle’s granddaughter Saloni, who was way out of his reach. He was, after all, their driver’s son. With a deep sigh, Aarav left the compound, unable to resist taking a peek towards the duplex that was set on the 10th and 11th floor of the building. It was only thanks to Shantanu Malhotra that Aarav was getting a chance to study. His father, Tejpal, had been working as their driver since the past eighteen years and though he was paid well, he couldn’t have afforded to give his children the kind of education they were getting. At twenty-one, Aarav was in the final year of his Bachelor of Business Administration course at the Delhi University. And this was because Shantanu and Ganga Malhotra had taken a keen interest in Tejpal’s family, ensuring that his children received basic education.
Aarav came back to the present when he heard the ring of a cycle bell. He smiled and waved at the kid who was riding on the path parallel to the jogging track before walking to a private lift. He opened it with an electronic key card before getting in and pressing the only button that would whisk him to the 25th floor, directly into the living room of the penthouse where he resided. He lived all alone in the flat that covered the whole of the top floor of the building, unless you counted the manservant, Baldev, who lived in the staff quarter half a floor below. Baldev hailed from Aizawl in Mizoram and ran Aarav’s home on oiled wheels, taking the cooking and cleaning in his stride.
Aarav entered his home to be greeted by the soft music of a bhajan that automatically brought a smile to his face. Yeah, his mother Amrita had trained Baldev well. While Aarav wasn’t exactly a fan of devotional music, his mother was convinced that listening to it in the morning would help him stay grounded. And he had gotten so used to doing exactly that that he missed it during the times he travelled.
Pouring himself a cup of coffee from the flask that was placed on the central table in the living room, Aarav sat down on the luxurious sofa to read the newspaper. It was the business and the entertainment sections that interested him more than the front pages that screamed of bomb blasts, accidents and politics gone berserk.
Aarav got ready and left for work at 8.30 am after having his breakfast. All this he did automatically, his mind revolving around Saloni and Mitesh. No, he refused to dwell on her husband.
Parking his less-than-a-month-old, dark blue, Mercedes-Benz E-Class car in the place marked for company president, Aarav walked into the five-floor building that housed one of his company’s—AC Events—offices, and took the stairs to his office on the top floor. Soon, he immersed himself totally in his work, that he had no bandwidth to dwell on Saloni.
5
Saloni, Manish, Ruma and Lakshman went out for dinner on the evening after the wedding. “Manish, shall we take Mitesh along? He so loves going out and enjoys company too. He won’t be any trouble in his pram...”
“Are you mad, woman?” Manish snarled at his wife, eyeing her with disgust in his eyes. “Won’t your son stay without you for even a couple of hours? It’s only in Chicago that we can’t leave him back every time we go out. Why the hell can’t he stay home with your parents and grandmother, now that we’re here in Delhi? And then there’s that girl Bindi to take care of him too.” He turned away muttering loud enough for her to hear, “I don’t know what the hell I ever saw in you! We can’t seem to have an adult outing, ever.”
Saloni turned red, her hands fisted tightly as she held back her temper. It was no use losing it. Manish would only ensure that the evening turned into a complete disaster. And she couldn’t do it to the newlyweds. Ruma and Laki looked so happy. She walked out of the bedroom to go meet her son, who was in her grandmother’s room.
“Daadima, is it okay if I leave Mitesh with you? I...”
Smiling, Ganga looked up from the cradle where she had been chatting with her great grandson. “Of course, Saloni. Do you have to ask?” Noticing her granddaughter’s red face, she asked, “Is something wrong beta?”
Saloni refused to meet Ganga’s eyes as she shook her head, bending down to speak to her son, “Mitesh baby, Mamma’s going out for a while. Will you be a good boy?” she said, kissing him on his forehead.
Mitesh gurgled, kicking his arms and legs, reaching out little fingers to catch hold of a dangling earring. His mother moved her head away, laughing at him as she waved a finger. “No, no, you naughty little guy! See you soon, my baby,” she whispered, before getting up to go. Saloni didn’t notice the strange look that her grandmother gave her as she left the room.
Lakshman drove the car after the four of them settled in. “Rather you than me, bro,” said Manish, “I can’t imagine driving in this crazy traffic. You know, in Chicago...”
Saloni tuned off, looking out of her window to check out the Delhi crowd that she loved so much. She decided to soak in the atmosphere as much as she could since she had barely another three weeks to go before she returned to the USA. And she was in no mood to listen to her husband waxing lyrical about Chicago. It’s not that she disliked the American city, only that she hated the loneliness that kept her company while there. Even the closest neighbours in the apartment block they lived in, were strangers to her. The only people she knew were her husband’s colleagues and friends, but Manish had made it obvious that he wasn’t happy if she socialised with them.
Ruma had booked a table at On the Waterfront in Lodhi Road. They reached there at 8.30 pm and were shown to a table for four with comfortable seating. Manish continued to regale Laki with anecdotes of life in Chicago while Saloni and Ruma chatted quietly between themselves. All the while, Saloni couldn’t help but notice Laki refusing to let go of his new wife’s hand, even as their eyes kept clinging to each other every few seconds.
Oh yes, she was happy for her sister. But that still didn’t stop her from feeling a touch of envy. No, envy was too mild a feeling. What she felt was way more than that. Saloni felt green with jealousy. Forget about holding hands, Manish never even looked her way, not with love anyway.
The women ordered cocktails; Manish asked for whisky and soda while Laki stuck to a single pint of beer. “You can’t do that, man. We’re celebrating your wedding. Come on Laki, have something stronger,” suggested Manish.
Laki smiled, shaking his head. “Let’s not forget that I’m driving us back home.”
“So who cares?” said Manish, at his sarcastic best. “I’m sure we can pull the wool over the policemen’s eyes, what with two women in the car along with us.”
Laki grinned. “That’s not the point, is it? I don’t need a policeman to keep me in order. Drunken driving is unsafe. And well, I don’t much care for hard drinks anyway.”
“Oh!” Manish nodded his head wisely, “You mean you can’t hold your drink.” He lifted his glass of whisky and downed it in one go, asking the waiter to bring him another.
Laki shrugged, refusing to rise to the bait, turning to look at his wife as she placed her head on his shoulder. “Tired?” he asked tenderly.
Ruma looked deeply into her husband’s black gaze and said softly, obviously only for his ears, “Not really. Just wanted to cuddle.”
Saloni turned away to study the ambience of the restaurant when she noticed Laki’s left arm snaking around Rum
a’s waist. And yeah, she couldn’t help overhearing Ruma’s whispered words. She couldn’t wait for dinner to be over and got up the moment she saw that everyone had finished with their meals. “Would you all mind if we leave now?” She was sure that the newly wedded couple must be eager to get back home too and she didn’t really care what her husband thought.
Laki got up from his chair immediately, saying, “Not at all. You must want to get back to little Mitesh. I must say he’s adorable.” He smiled at his sister-in-law.
“Arre yaar, sit down a bit longer. I want to have another drink,” said Manish, his voice slurred as he had already had three large pegs by now. “And Mitesh should be fine. Saloni worries unnecessarily.” He turned to give his wife a mocking look, not caring that he only hurt her more and more.
Laki sat back out of sheer politeness, his face expressionless now as he looked from Manish to Saloni, not saying anything, while he held Ruma’s hand tightly against his thigh. The three of them waited for Manish to down his fourth drink and got up the moment he was done. Laki had already paid the bill, eager to leave, as were the two women.
Manish continued to lecture about his life in Chicago during their ride back home, while the other three remained silent.
Saloni felt like a voyeur as she couldn’t help noticing the closeness between Ruma and Laki from her peripheral even though she did her best to keep her eyes glued to the window.
It was time she took charge of her life. Saloni hated being second best. And she seriously needed to rethink her life. Straightening her shoulders as she stepped out of the car, Saloni decided that she’d give Manish one final chance, to be a good—if not great—husband. Or...well, time would tell. She wasn’t going to let him trample all over her. Sticking to her decision, Saloni preponed her return ticket to Chicago and left on the same flight as her husband, a week later.
6
Mitesh never seemed to stop complaining nowadays. The cheerful baby seemed to be picking up his mother’s irritated vibes and appeared to be cranky all the time. Well, neither mother nor son was happy to be back in Chicago as they missed their big family back home.
Flaming Sun Collection 3: Perfect Twins Find Anya (Box Set with 3 novellas) Page 25
