The Madras Affair

by Sundari Venkatraman

  She looked at Gautam pleadingly. “Please try to understand, Gautam. It's not like that. I can't go out with you.”

  “Can't or won't?” There was a trace of anger in his voice.

  She felt hurt by this show of temper. But then, she had given him reason for it. She felt defeated. The whole thing was a wasted exercise, anyway. They will be going their separate ways in another week. Sangita almost gasped out aloud at the emptiness that invaded her heart at this thought. She closed her eyes to hide the pain in them.

  “You may think what you like, Gautam,” her voice came in a whisper.

  “Your answer's final?” There was frustration and fury in Gautam's voice as he eyed her angrily. No woman had refused him quite so vehemently.

  She nodded her head before turning away.

  “Sangita,” Gautam's hand on her shoulder stopped her in her track. She was glad that they were alone in the hall. “Is it me? You don't want to go out with me, is that the problem?”

  Sangita gave him a bitter smile. How she wished that was the issue. It had taken her just two minutes to tell Dr. Sukumar to go to hell. But Gautam was a different cup of tea. “Please, Gautam. Leave me alone,” she begged, her large eyes pleading with his.

  “Okay. Let's say that I do take you at your word and leave you alone. Would that make you happy?” Gautam watched her intently, his blue eyes hard and searching.

  Shock hit her, her eyes shadowing with distress as she couldn't give him an answer.

  Gautam raised his hand to run a finger down her petal-soft cheek. Sangita jerked her head away from his caress.

  “Sangita,” his persistent voice whispered into her ear, his breath disturbing the tendrils of hair that had escaped the knot. “Please don't deny us this chance to get to know each other. That's all I'm asking. A chance to know you better. Is that too much?”

  His whispered plea was extremely persuasive. But Sangita was wary of his touch and tried to put some distance between them only to have him move closer. His nearness scrambled her brain. He took her silence for consent. “So I take it that we're going out,” he declared, feeling triumphant.

  A confused frown marred Sangita's forehead as she tried to grapple with reality. She took a couple of seconds to grasp the meaning of his words. “No, Gautam.”

  “No?” his anger was worse this time. His body jerked straight. He glared at her, his sparkling eyes a turbulent blue.

  “Gautam, please try to understand my situation. I'm answerable to my parents as I told you earlier and I know for sure that they'll never approve. Can't we just...”

  “What? Can't we just what?” Gautam didn't have to raise his voice for her to hear the ferocity in it.

  Her chocolate eyes begged him not to be angry with her. “Can't we just be friends?”

  He looked at her incredulously, “Friends? But we need to get to know one another for that. And you can't spare the time.” He turned away, his stance stiff with rejection.

  “Gautam, please.” She placed a hand on his arm appealingly. She didn't know what she was pleading for. But she didn't want Gautam to walk away from her life.

  He caught her hand on his arm and held it. His thumb rubbed gently against her palm, sending a tremor through her whole body. All the anger drained from his mind as he looked into her melting gaze.

  “I s'pose we put the idea on hold for the time being,” he said. Catching the look of relief on her face, he continued, “but not forever. I intend to get to know you and your son. No force on earth can stop me now that I know that you aren't averse to the idea.” He paused to raise her hand to his lips, his blue gaze holding hers with intensity, daring her to look away. “Not your parents or any other member of your family,” he concluded. Sangita fought against the feeling of pleasure that stole through her as she tugged at her hand.

  He let go of her hand to touch her cheek in a fleeting caress. Sangita's eyes automatically closed with delight. “Sleep over that, Sangita,” his voice was a soft stroke in her ear, “I'll see you tomorrow.” Gautam raised two fingers in a salute before walking out.

  Sangita curbed the urge to rush after him. She wanted to squeeze out as much time with him as possible. She walked slowly to the lift. To her surprise and joy, Gautam was waiting for her there, leaning against the wall, his arms folded against his wide chest, a smile on his face. They stepped into the lift that had arrived, as if on cue.

  He kept looking at Sangita, not getting enough of her. She returned his bold gaze with a shy one of her own.

  “Can I call you sometime at home? Just to chat. I'm sure your parents wouldn't object to that...”

  Gautam could see her smile disintegrating in front of his eyes. He wondered what he had said now. She shook her head. She felt rather stupid going on about her parents' objections. It made them sound like the villains they were not. They just thought differently.

  He sighed in frustration. “Awright. Lemme give you my cell number. You call me when you can.” He lifted her left hand and taking a pen out of his shirt pocket, wrote out his mobile number across her palm. She stared at it unseeingly before raising her head to look at him. “Please, Sangita.”

  She gave him a small nod before stepping out of the lift.

  Sangita was distracted as she packed her bag to leave for the day. It was pure reflex that got her into the correct bus. The conductor had to call out twice to catch her attention to purchase a ticket.

  It didn't require two guesses to know in which direction Sangita's thoughts lay. She seemed to have no control over the way her mind insisted on thinking about Gautam. She had made an effort to erase his image from her mind a few days ago only to realise that it was a wasted exercise. It appeared that Gautam had decided to take up permanent residence behind her eyelids.

  It was too strange an experience for her. She had been engaged to Giridhar at the tender age of eighteen. Even then, when she still had her dreams intact, she hadn't been so distracted by the thoughts of her fiancé.

  But Gautam seemed to take up all of her attention without any effort. She kept replaying the conversation between them at the Physio lab. A small smile lit her features. She couldn't wait to get back home to share her thoughts with her sister-in-law. Only she would see the funny side of the situation.

  Sangita looked down at her left palm where Gautam had scribbled his cell number. Her smile widened. Did he seriously believe that she would call him? 'But again why not?' asked a voice inside her head.

  A tiny frown formed on Sangita's forehead. All this long she had been sure that she didn't want to cross her parents' strictures. But suddenly a part of her seemed to think otherwise.

  Sangita recalled the kiss he had placed on her right palm. Sudden heat rose up from her neck to redden her face. She gave a surreptitious look around her to check whether anyone had noticed. Thank God everyone was busy in their own world. What had prompted Gautam to kiss her like that? Her palm tingled at the contact with his lips. Where was the alarm that usually sprang within her when a man came too close?

  She set to analyse her rebellious thoughts as the bus reached her stop. She got off and took the longer way home as she had a lot on her mind.

  Why this sudden need to befriend a man, a stranger at that? She was close to both Rekha and Rithika. She had a loving son and lived within the security of a joint family. She was also clear that she would never marry again.

  So, where did that leave her as far as Gautam was concerned? She couldn't believe that it was physical attraction since she knew how lacking in passion she was. She had simply hated the physical side of marriage. Sangita shuddered as she recalled the times she had had to endure sex with her husband. She paled at the thoughts crowding her mind, even after all these years.

  Getting back to Gautam, she knew it wasn't physical attraction, though he was extremely appealing, physically. Sangita recalled their first meeting and remembered thinking that he was almost beautiful. It was a surprise that he was unattached.

  His blue eyes sho
ne with intelligence and along with his dimple, fascinated Sangita no end. But where was this magnetism going to land her? She was impressed by the way he had reacted when she told him of her being a widow. Even learning that she was a mother hadn't stopped him from wanting to get to know her.

  But...but it was impossible for her to go out with him. He didn't even begin to understand her conventional parents. Their families and their upbringing were so different.

  And what was going to happen a few weeks later after he stopped coming to the hospital? Could they continue being friends? What would her parents and relatives have to say? She could almost hear Gautam's mocking voice telling her, 'But it's your life. What do they have to do with it?'

  'Very true,' said the rebellious part of her mind.

  What did the same parents and relatives know about her needs? Where had they been when she had been suffering a terrible life with Giridhar? Had anyone wanted to even hear that she had been going through hell living in the same house as that demon who had called himself her husband? Her parents had wanted her to have a happy life with Giridhar. So they had presumed that she was thrilled to bits in the role of his wife. The couple of times she had tried telling them, they had brushed away her protests and put it down to her lack of maturity.

  Even then, it had been her lack of maturity that was at fault. There was nothing wrong with Giridhar. No way. How could a man ever be wrong? Sangita's face twisted in a bitter smile. Her eyes burned with unshed tears.

  She wouldn't cry. She had promised herself never to cry on the day God had blessed her with the death of her husband. It pleased the same parents and neighbours to think that she was too heartbroken to shed tears and Sangita never bothered to correct them considering the futility of such an effort.

  Her thoughts had gone around a full circle and reached Gautam once again. She suddenly remembered his touch on her cheek. She raised a hand to trail her fingers over the spot, which still seemed to tingle. Her lips parted in a smile of forbidden pleasure. Her reflexes had persuaded her to move away immediately even though she had liked his touch; feather light and non-threatening. It seemed set on soothing her jangled nerves and had succeeded to some extent.

  One thing became obvious in the whole set of frayed thoughts. She came to the conclusion that she'd definitely make an effort to befriend Gautam.

  Sangita reached home to open the gate as Sandeep rushed into her arms. She hugged her son tightly before placing a loving kiss on his forehead, pushing aside the unruly locks of hair from his face.

  “Hi, darling!”

  “Hi, Mummy!” He gave her a toothy grin before hugging her back.

  “How was school today?” Sandeep hopped, skipped and jumped holding his mother's hand, Ramya walking sedately on the other side as they went into the house.

  “'Kay. Rahul and I had a fight. I won, of course.” He raised his hand to show the scrape on his knuckles.

  “Sandeep, you didn't?” admonished Sangita.

  “Aww, Mom, he hit me first. Ask the teacher if you want,” Sandeep defended himself.

  “Yes, Sangita Athai, Rahul hit Sandeep first,” Ramya supported her cousin loyally, pausing to remove her thumb from her mouth.

  “How do you know?” Sangita asked her niece.

  “I was there. It happened in the inter...inter...” the word was too big for the four-year-old.

  “Interval, silly,” prompted the 'big man'.

  “Sandeep, how many times have I said that you shouldn't fight with the other children?” asked Sangita, looking at her son's defiant face.

  “You don't want me to take a beating lying down, do you?” he asked his mother logically.

  “Hmm...I suppose you had no choice. Be more careful next time.”

  “Okay, Mom,” came the cheerful reply. “Can we go to the park today?” Sandeep asked in the same breath.

  “Not today, sweetheart. Tomorrow, I promise. Today, mummy's too tired.” Sangita felt drained after the emotional upheaval caused by her racing thoughts.

  “Shall we play Trade then?” Sandeep was persistent.

  “Yeah, after I help Rekha Maami with dinner.”

  7

  Gautam reached home to immediately change into a pair of shorts and tank top before taking Butterscotch for a run along the beach, much to the dog's delight. The Labrador had missed his master.

  Gautam untied the leash from the dog's collar, letting him roam freely along the coast chasing the tiny crabs that ran all over. “Woof, woof,” barked Butterscotch in rapture as Gautam lifted a piece of driftwood and threw it far ahead. Butterscotch ran after it, thrilled as Gautam jogged after him. Man and dog spent the next hour sprinting along the shoreline dodging the waves and returned home, tired and happy.

  He went upstairs to take a shower before coming down to spend time with his grandparents.

  Vimala brought a tall glass of chilled lemonade for him.

  “Thanks, Patti,” he kissed her on her cheek before sprawling on the comfortable sofa, his legs stretched out in front of him.

  “So, how was your day?” asked Ganapathi, changing channels on TV, not finding any show that caught his interest.

  “The usual,” sighed Gautam. Ganapathi turned to look at him, startled at the brief answer. The question usually triggered forth a spate as he elaborated on the lessons he had taught that day, his students' antics and so on.

  Gautam turned to catch Ganapathi's inquisitive gaze and controlled the sigh that was trying to escape his chest.

  “Shall we play a round of chess, Thatha?” he asked to distract the older man. “Unless Patti is free and we can play rummy,” he looked at Vimala enquiringly.

  “Not me,” replied Vimala. “At least not now, maybe later.”

  “Chess it is,” said Gautam before setting up a table in front of Ganapathi's recliner and arranging the board.

  “So what's bothering you, my boy?” asked Ganapathi as he helped his grandson set the board.

  “Why? Nothin' Thatha,” said Gautam, avoiding his grandfather's sharp gaze.

  “Well, if you don't want to tell your old Thatha...” Ganapathi drawled, looking at Gautam expectantly.

  The sigh that Gautam was holding back with difficulty rose to the surface and came out in a whoosh.

  The old man's eyebrows rose in question. “So, tell me, my dear grandson, who is she?”

  Gautam's face puckered into a scowl. “Who's who?”

  “The one who's made you preoccupied.”

  Gautam shrugged. “I don' know what you're talkin' about.” He glared at his grandfather.

  Ganapathi winked at his grandson. “Gautam, your Thatha had to cross thirty before he turned eighty.”

  “So?”

  “So, tell me who this lady is, the one who's making you sigh a dozen times a minute,” Ganapathi was tenacious.

  “Thatha, let me compliment you on your fantastic and extremely wild imagination,” Gautam drawled sarcastically, hoping to sidetrack his grandfather.

  The old eyes twinkled. “Thank you,” he said in a soft voice, his mischievous, dark eyes fixed on the younger man's turbulent, blue ones. Although Gautam physically resembled his father Alistair, he reminded Ganapathi so much of his adorable Swetha. Every gesture of his and every nuance of his expression was so much like his daughter.

  He didn't say anything after that but Gautam could feel his questioning gaze on him as the two of them pretended to concentrate on the chessboard.

  Gautam sighed yet again much to his grandfather's amusement.

  “Okay,” said Gautam, pushing the coins abruptly into their plastic container. He got up to sit close to his grandfather on the arm of the recliner, his arm going around the slightly stooped shoulders. “Tell me, what do you wanna know?” he asked.

  Ganapathi turned to look over his shoulder at his handsome grandson and gave him a loving smile. “Who's this girl who has taken over your mind to the point of distraction?”

  “Sangita.” Ganapathi watched in awe as Gau
tam's blue gaze turned dreamy. “She's simply beautiful.” He looked down at Ganapathi's interested face. “I don't quite believe in love at first sight, Thatha, but...” Gautam scowled ferociously at the other man's grin, “now what's it?” he asked his naughty grandfather.

  “You sound so much like your mother. Swetha uttered exactly the same words after she met your father for the first time.” Ganapathi's gaze was reminiscent as he recalled the conversation he had had with his daughter thirty-six years ago. “She was a goner right from the start,” he smiled.

  “But, Thatha, this is quite different. Listen me out. I haven't fallen in love...” Gautam sounded a trifle desperate.

  “No?” the salt-and-pepper eyebrows went up in gentle mockery.

  Gautam got off the arm of the recliner and pushing his hands into the pockets of his shorts, stood towering over his grandfather, his legs apart. His blue eyes sparked with temper. “That's it now, you old man. I don' plan to tell you anythin'. I don' think you wanna listen to anythin' properly. You,” he poked a hard finger into Ganapathi's chest, frowning fiercely as the older man's expression turned even more mischievous, “already think you know everythin'. So be it. I am tellin' you nothin'.” His American accent became more pronounced as he rapidly lost his cool.

  Ganapathi guffawed, looking up at his grandson with an adoring expression on his face. “Caught it bad, have you?”

  Vimala walked in just then and looked askance at her grandson's belligerent stance and her husband's obvious amusement. She went and stood next to the younger man in silent support, her hand on his shoulder.

  “Why are you troubling the poor boy so? He's had a long day at work and then the stint at physiotherapy while you have been lazing around the house all day,” Vimala's concern was genuine.

  “'Xactly, Patti. I don' quite know how you manage him the whole day,” said Gautam, turning the tables on Ganapathi, now that he had his grandmother to advocate his cause.

  “Vimala, you haven't taken into account the time he spent with Sangita.” Ganapathi was looking from one face to the other, trying to gauge their reactions.