Their last stop was Wat Prok Charoen, literally meaning the footprint of the Buddha. They jumped off the boat, taking off their shoes and went to visit the shrine. They bought some incense sticks to light in front of the Buddha idol.
Getting back into the boat, they stopped for yet another sticky, coconut-based dessert—Buad Fuk Tong—pumpkin cooked in sugar syrup topped with coconut cream. It was so finger-licking good.
Their final stop was at a curio shop where Shikha fell in love with a bronze bell that was typical of Thailand, carved with motifs from Buddhist relics. Unlike other shops in Pattaya, the ones at the floating market were strict about no bargaining. Abhi paid the amount the vendor asked and they left the market, happy with a morning well spent.
Their next stop was the landscaped gardens of Thailand called Nong Nooch. It was a veritable jungle of trees, flowering plants, climbers, palms, bonsai and cactus plants. Shikha was particularly enamoured by the huge variety of orchids in the colours of the rainbow. They stopped for the elephant show and Thai dancing before returning to their room in Cape Dara at around five.
They left their hotel at seven to go to the Walking Street, the ‘in’ place for Pattaya nightlife. The road was called that since only pedestrians were allowed as all vehicles were stopped at the entrance to the street. Their driver explained that the whole place was shut during the day and came alive after 6 pm.
Abhi and Shikha got off to take a stroll through the street that had neon lights flashing in many colours from the entrances to beer bars, discotheques, clubs and restaurants. Flesh trade was obviously common in the area as women wearing next-to-nothing and lots of make-up called out to the men, especially those walking around with no woman in tow.
Shikha wrinkled her nose as she saw a woman eyeing the handsome Abhimanyu. “Shall I go punch her face? She won’t be able to do business over the next couple of weeks,” snarled his new wife, bringing a wide smile to his face.
He turned her around to kiss her soundly on her lips. “She’s just doing her job, Shikha.”
“And what’s that? To make eyes at you?” Shikha turned around to glare at the woman who walked away in search of another customer.
“Do you want to go dancing?” Abhi did his best to distract her.
“Hmm… okay. But let’s have some beer first.”
They sat down at this quaint bar in the middle of the road that had a table that revolved along with the chairs. They guzzled a couple of beers each, watching the action on the street. The place attracted a large number of tourists from around the world. People of many colours thronged the street, soaking in the atmosphere. Loud music blared from discos, the sounds going up and down as people opened and shut doors.
“It looks like one huge mela, doesn’t it?” said Abhi.
“Truly! And high on energy too.”
When he noticed that she had finished her beer, he got up to say, “Let’s go.”
They went into Mixx Discotheque and blended with the crowd, swinging their bodies to the thumping music. After more than an hour of rigorous dancing and having downed a few more beers, Abhi and Shikha got out of the club, laughing.
They decided to go back to Cape Dara for dinner, only to find that the restaurants had shut down for the night. Luckily, they could still order room service and had a platter of dim sums delivered to their room. Abhi watched on helplessly as Shikha continued to drink from three bottles of beer from the mini bar in their room. “Not for me,” he shook his head when she offered him an opened bottle.
“More for me,” she grinned, swigging from the bottle.
It was late when they woke up the next day and went shopping, buying loads of clothes and accessories for Shikha. They even purchased a couple of suitcases to store all the new stuff.
“I’m so loving this,” declared Shikha, picking up two sets of beachwear—two-piece swimsuits printed in batik. The top had a halter neck matched with a g-string bikini and a wraparound sarong that flared down to mid-thigh.
After lunch, they visited Wat Phra Yai Temple, the Big Buddha Statue, soaking in the atmosphere.
Evening was set aside for Tiffany’s Cabaret Show that was spectacular. The hour-long show consisted of dances from India, Korea, China and Thailand, with the dancers wearing such elaborate head dresses.
Their last day, the two of them mutually decided to spend on the beach, just outside their room. They had a decadent day of frolicking in the brilliant blue waters, sipping on delicious cocktails and munching into aromatic Thai dishes, lazing around in their swimwear.
16
They checked out the next day in the afternoon, packed their luggage into a tourist cab and left for Rayong. Unlike Pattaya, the name was unfamiliar to Shikha. Abhi shushed her when she wanted to know more. “Wait till we get there,” he said mysteriously.
After an hour and a half of travel, they entered the wrought iron gates of The Frangipani to ride for three more minutes down the long drive to reach the reception. “Wow! This place looks amazing. Just see the number of frangipani trees. The name is perfect for this resort. It is a resort, right? Or some kind of health farm?” asked Shikha, noticing a couple of sign boards reading, ‘Yoga centre’ and ‘Meditation’.
“It’s a combination of both,” said Abhi, getting out of the car. They walked up the few steps that led to the reception. Wide open windows brought in cool breeze unlike most places that are air-conditioned. Shikha also noticed that there were no tall buildings around. There were self-contained villas spread over a huge area, amidst a lush garden with very many trees. Of course, they were mostly frangipani trees and plants, the flowers in so many shades of pink and yellow, surrounding the area with a wonderful perfume.
Shikha sat back on a sofa, sipping the sweet water directly from a freshly plucked coconut while Abhi completed the formalities at the desk.
A man in uniform went along with them to show them to Villa No. 65 that was set way further, dragging their luggage behind in a trolley. Shikha noticed a few more name boards saying, ‘Physiotherapy’, ‘In-house doctor,’ ‘Massage centre’ and ‘Gymnasium’. Despite all that, the place was rather quiet. Where were the other guests?
“Have you brought me to a freaking health farm, Abhi?” frowned Shikha, not bothering to keep her voice down despite a stranger accompanying them.
Abhi shrugged. “Well, it is a 5-star health farm, with loads of facilities. I’m sure you’ll enjoy the experience.”
Before Shikha could say anything more, they came upon a charming swimming pool under the shade of more trees. The water looked so inviting while the deck chairs seemed decadent. “This is it. I’ll spend all my time right here in the pool while you take care of your “health”,” she said sarcastically, her fingers making quotation marks in the air. She wondered how long they planned to stay here but was too angry with him to show her curiosity. This must be costing him a bomb. Shouldn’t he have found out if she would enjoy something like this?
“I hope the food is great and the room comfy enough. Otherwise, this could be a waste of precious money,” she added for good measure.
Abhi didn’t reply as he took out an old-fashioned brass key to open the door to the quaint villa built of logs that fitted so well in the rustic garden. It had a tiled roof and could have passed off for a home from a fairytale.
Shikha found it difficult to hold on to her temper when they entered the cosy home away from home. It had a double sofa and two single sofas placed in the centre, piled with plump, colourful cushions. The wooden floor was well-polished and a joy to walk on with bare feet. A spray of orchids were placed in a vase that sat on a coffee table. Further beyond was a huge double bed. Shikha discovered a bath tub in the bathroom and cooled down a bit.
“I suppose it’s not really bad,” she said, no apology in her voice.
Once the man had left, Abhi hugged Shikha and said, “We’ve an appointment with Gamon in an hour. Would you like to rest or go for a walk?”
“I’d like a beer. I
’m parched. There’s no mini-bar here. Is there room service?” She had her doubts, seeing how rustic the place was. But looking at the bath tub, the health facilities, the swimming pool and the size of the well-maintained gardens, it did seem a classic joint. And it had taken them ten minutes to get to the villa from the reception.
“They have room service. But they don’t serve alcohol,” said Abhi softly, waiting for the bomb to explode.
And explode she did. “What?” screeched Shikha, scowling ferociously, “What kind of godforsaken place have you brought me to? They don’t serve alcohol? I don’t believe this.”
Abhi shrugged, not replying.
“Abhimanyu Mehra, answer me,” she ordered. Her hands had begun to tremble in anger and also because her body craved alcohol. The last drink she had had was last evening before dinner. It was more than twenty hours.
“Well, it’s a health farm and they don’t want the residents to drink anything toxic.”
“You are serious.” Shikha turned away abruptly, reaching out for their luggage.
“What are you doing?” asked Abhi, guessing correctly that she was looking for the bottle of whisky they had bought the day before while shopping.
“Getting the whisky we bought. Will I get some soda or should I make do with water?” she asked, pulling all his clothes out as she searched frantically for the whisky. “Where have you buried the bottle, Abhi?” she snarled, glaring at him.
“It’s not there.”
Shikha whirled around to walk up to him, her hands holding the front of his shirt, trying to shake him. “What the fuck do you mean, it’s not there? I had packed it myself.” Her sherry brown eyes burnt in fury.
Abhi held her arms gently, saying, “I removed it. It’s not allowed on the premises here.”
“You knew the rules before we came, right?” asked Shikha dully, pulling her arms free of his hold. “You knew they wouldn’t let me drink? Then why the hell did you bring us here?” Her voice rose high again.
Abhi tried to pull her into his arms, only to have her move away from him, shaking her head. His hands fell to his sides, fisting up in frustration as he replied gently, “Please calm down Shikha. Come with me. Let’s take a walk before our meeting.”
“I’m going nowhere with you,” said Shikha, walking out of the villa in a huff.
17
Shikha sat down on a deckchair, hugging her trembling body. How dare he! She had wanted to swim. But right now, she was feeling too weak and didn’t want to risk going in the water all by herself. She didn’t care where Abhi was. She was done with him. The insensitive brute! He knew that she enjoyed her drinks. That was the one thing that grounded her and he was doing his best to keep her away from it. How unfair was that!
Who needed a health farm? She was sure that it was full of 70-year-olds who required a wheelchair to get around. No wonder the place was so bloody quiet. Some honeymoon!
“Hello, is that Shikha?” said a gentle male voice from behind her.
She turned around to see a man in his thirties standing a few feet from her. How did he know her name? “And you are?” she asked rudely.
“Gamon,” he offered his hand.
Shikha reluctantly put her trembling hand in his, giving it a weak shake. She looked at him curiously. Abhi had mentioned a meeting with his man. But what was it about?
“Do you work here?” she asked.
“Yeah, I do. I’m a health consultant,” said Gamon, sitting down on the deckchair next to hers. Abhi was nowhere in the vicinity.
“I’m thirsty and need a beer. Could you help me?” she asked outright.
Gamon smiled, shrugging. “I’m afraid I can’t, Shikha. Hard drinks are not allowed at The Frangipani.”
“It’s a frigging beer that I want. Not premium malt whisky. Do you know that beer has barely two percent alcohol?” she asked him, still hoping to change his mind.
“What you say is true. But it’s still alcohol. We deal with a number of alcohol addicts here, Shikha. It’s not easy to kick the habit. Even that two percent could be someone’s downfall,” he explained.
Shikha eyed the stranger sitting next to her. What was he saying? “You deal with whom?” she asked, her voice going dangerously soft.
“Alcohol addicts,” said Gamon succinctly. Abhimanyu Mehra had warned Gamon that his wife Shikha was unaware that she had been brought here for a de-addiction programme; that he would never have been able to get her here if he had told her the truth upfront.
Shikha jumped from her seat. “What the fuck!” she yelled, losing it completely. “I want out, do you hear? I’m not sick and I don’t have an alcohol problem.” She tucked her trembling hands into her jeans pockets. “My husband’s brought me under false pretences. I want to get out of here.”
“Listen Shikha. It’s for your own good. Let me tell you…”
“I don’t want to hear what you have to tell me. If you people don’t let me out of here, I’ll call the police.”
Her voice had carried far and Abhi stepped out from behind the huge trunk of a tree from where he had been listening to the conversation between the two.
“Shikha…”
“You bastard!” She jumped in front of him, hitting him hard on his chest with her fists. “How dare you bring me to a de-addiction centre? Just because I enjoy a drink or two, it doesn’t mean I’m an addict. I want out.”
Abhi looked at her sadly, his brown eyes wounded. He waited for her to get the anger out of her system before holding her fists gently in his hands, saying, “Shikha, will you just listen to Gamon for a few minutes, before taking any drastic decision?”
“Decision,” she said bitterly, “what do I’ve to do with deciding things? You’ve decided the course that my life should take from now on. What say do I have?” She refused to let fall the tears that shimmered in her eyes.
“Do you really think I’ll do something bad for you, Shikha?”
“I don’t know.” Shikha buried her face in her hands. “I don’t really know.” Her shoulders shook as she gave in to her weakness. Her head was buzzing by now, her life completely out of her control.
Gamon got a bottle of mineral water and offered it to her. “Take a sip,” he said.
Shikha took a couple of sips before placing the water down on the floor. “I want to be left alone,” she said softly, looking at neither man.
Gamon looked up at Abhimanyu and walked away when he saw his nod. Abhi walked a few feet away, giving her space, but still keeping a watch on her.
That night, the two of them went to bed without dinner.
18
It was Day Five and Shikha was still not talking to her husband. The butterflies that had been zooming in her head, had finally decided to take a break it seemed. She hadn’t been eating well since the past few days. But that morning, she felt ravenously hungry. She attacked the breakfast buffet with vigour, ignoring Abhi who had accompanied her to the dining room. By now, she knew there were sixty-two other people staying on the premises, being treated for various addictions. It was a rarity that someone had a companion on the premises. She really didn’t know or care if having Abhimanyu with her was a good thing.
Immediately after breakfast, she had an appointment with the psychotherapist, Dr. Dang. That sounded like the villainous role played by Bollywood actor Anupam Kher. Shikha couldn’t stop the giggle that escaped her throat when the thought crossed her mind. She looked at Abhi from the corner of her eyes to see if he had noticed. He was busy on his laptop, even as he forked a piece of mango into his mouth. She missed him, not that she planned to admit it in the next hundred years. She missed the warmth between them and his steamy lovemaking. She shut her thoughts deliberately. She was going to meet a shrink. She might as well find a way to get her husband out of her mind.
Shikha wiped her hands on a cloth napkin, sipping a cup of hot coffee that tasted divine. She wished she could smoke at least. Not long now. Gamon had made her a promise. If she didn’t like to continue
after two weeks, he was going to help her get out of this madhouse. She planned to make him keep his promise. Only ten more days to get through.
She knocked on Dr. Dang’s door with a smile on her face. A pleasant female voice called out to, “Come in,” surprising Shikha. She had expected to see a Thai version of Anupam Kher and was startled to see a lovely young woman who seemed to be her own age.
“Hello Shikha,” greeted the lady.
“Dr. Dang?” asked Shikha, wanting to be sure she had come to the right place.
“Yes,” she smiled, “I’m Apinya Dang.”
“Hello Apinya,” said Shikha, settling down on the chair in front of the desk. The doctor asked her a few basic questions about her present life before asking Shikha if she would like to relax on the couch.
“Oh yeah, the shrink’s couch,” said Shikha sarcastically, “why not?” She settled down comfortably. She was in a good mood after that wonderful breakfast and was also happy that her head was feeling better after four days of constant buzzing.
Despite working on his laptop during breakfast, Abhi had been aware of Shikha looking his way. But he had chosen to ignore it against his better judgement. The past few days had been the most difficult for him, with Shikha treating him like he was part of the furniture. Her hurt and pain pierced him more than her anger. The fact was that he had brought her under false pretences. But then, what choice did he have? She wasn’t even aware that she was addicted. And she’d have never agreed to rehab if he had mentioned it to her, the fiery woman that she was.
Gamon had clearly advised Abhi to ignore Shikha’s tantrums. She was in pain, both mentally and physically and was keen to use someone as punching bag. Who better than Abhi?
“If you argue with her or try to convince her otherwise, she would fight the situation all the more,” said Gamon. “Let her be angry. Everyone is, in the beginning. The withdrawal symptoms can be painful.”
Flaming Sun Collection 2: Marriages Made in India (Box Set with 5 novellas) Page 13
