The Madras Affair

by Sundari Venkatraman

  Rakesh nodded his head vigorously, glad that his father-in-law understood what he was getting at. “Yes, Pappa, that's exactly what I am saying. My parents feel strongly about it too,” he said.

  Padmanabhan turned to look at Gautam who had been listening to their altercation without contributing to it. He raised his brow at the younger man's smiling face in enquiry.

  Gautam shrugged his wide shoulders and nodded his head towards Rakesh, encouraging Padmanabhan to continue the dialogue.

  Padmanabhan turned to Rakesh once again. “But, Rakesh, this is the twenty-first century, after all,” his voice was mild, “Widow remarriage is quite common,” he pointed out.

  Rakesh stared at his father-in-law. “But sir, all said and done,” he lowered his voice, “Sangita's what you'd call soiled goods, wouldn't...”

  He never got to complete the sentence as Gautam got up from his chair forcefully while it crashed against the wall behind him. For the second time in the same number of hours, Gautam pulled Rakesh by his collar and lifted him off the floor.

  “You may've forgotten that Sangita's your sister. But do remember that she's your employer's fiancée,” he spat the words from between his teeth, extreme anger in his eyes.

  He dumped his brother-in-law unceremoniously and tucking his hands into his trouser pockets, turned towards Padmanabhan.

  “I'm extremely sorry about the scene, Uncle. You didn't deserve that,” he said, genuine regret in his voice.

  Padmanabhan looked at the angry man in front of him, the respect for his friend's son only increasing. He put out a hand to shake Gautam's. “Just forget that it happened, my boy. And don't you worry about anything. I'm looking forward to attending your wedding to Sangita.”

  Gautam thanked him and without sparing a glance at Rakesh, left the CEO's cabin.

  Padmanabhan looked at Rakesh and decided that his son-in-law urgently required some sense knocked into him.

  Rakesh looked at Padmanabhan defiantly, not quite sure what had hit him.

  “Sit down, Rakesh,” invited Padmanabhan.

  Rakesh sat on the edge of the chair that was beside the one Gautam had recently vacated.

  “Now, tell me, my son, what's your problem with Sangita getting married to Gautam?”

  “It's not like that, Pappa. We have nothing against Gautam Sinclair. It's only that Sangita being a widow...” he hesitated, catching the scowl on the older man's face.

  “Rakesh, don't you think it's high time you and your family stopped punishing Sangita for her husband's early death? Why should she pay with her wasted life for something that's not her fault?” he asked logically.

  “But sir, that's her fate. She was born unlucky. She...”

  “That's a load of old wives' tales you are doling out.” Padmanabhan gave an impatient sigh. “Please come into the new millennium, Rakesh,” he said, a mild sarcasm entering his voice.

  Rakesh found Padmanabhan's attitude strange. He had a conservative upbringing under the shadow of his parents. He had heard them talk about other people's opinions all the time and also about the importance of holding up one's head in society. He'd never faced any major conflict in his life. He was a teenager when Giridhar died and the repercussions on Sangita's life had never really struck him. Her sorrow never bothered him. And he wasn't a man with a wide imagination. Whatever his parents said suited him just fine.

  Recently, his life had turned rosy as he had been basking in his parents' approval for landing a fantastic job with an impressive pay. Over and above, he had won the best prize of all—the hand of the boss's daughter.

  From the moment Gautam Sinclair's marriage proposal had been mentioned to Gopal and Radha, they had been continuously brainwashing him that his sister's marriage might jeopardise his own. And whatever they said was gospel to him.

  Now he turned to look at his fiancée's father with mystified eyes. “But Pappa, what will the society say about this marriage? It may jolly well be the twenty-first century, but everyone still...”

  “Who, according to you, constitutes the society, Rakesh? Do you think the old people who are your neighbours constitute the sum total of the general public? Aren't Gautam's grandparents honoured members of our society? And getting closer to home, wouldn't you call me a part of the society you live in?” the questions came at Rakesh in rapid-fire shots.

  “Well sir, that's true. But my parents and I have to live among our neighbours, right?” he asked of his father-in-law, pretty confident that Lata's father would have to agree with him now.

  Padmanabhan lost all patience with Rakesh and for a minute wondered whether the young man in front of him was indeed a suitable match for his daughter. He decided that a small amount of blackmail wouldn't come amiss at this juncture.

  “Look here, Rakesh, let's get a couple of things clear. Gautam's a director in this company and is also fifty per cent owner. It's true that he's a silent partner and never interferes in the running of PadmaClair Associates. But again, you heard what he had to say; the bit about Sangita being your employer's fiancée.” He paused, convinced that his son-in-law was listening to every word, as the younger man's face paled. Then he continued, “If Gautam decides that he doesn't want you in our company, let me be clear that I'll not stand in his way.” He raised a hand, stopping Rakesh from bursting out in anger. “I'll abide by our partnership. This company can't exist without the support of the Sinclairs, both Gautam and his father Alistair.”

  “Now, on the personal front, I'll not renege on my promise to make you my son-in-law. But,” he raised his hand once again to stop Rakesh from interrupting, “I'll allow the marriage to take place only when you have an equal or a better job. And, that, my son, I very much doubt, especially after you have managed to invite Gautam's wrath.”

  Padmanabhan surreptitiously crossed his fingers as he exaggerated Gautam's reactions to the situation. Gautam had yet to allow someone to thwart him before seeking his revenge on them. But then, Rakesh didn't know that.

  Padmanabhan had stopped talking. But Rakesh, who had tried to interrupt the older man twice, seemed to have lost his voice. He stared at his fiancée's father, not knowing what to say. He was well and truly cornered with no escape but to agree to Sangita's wedding. It never struck him that the marriage would take place anyway.

  Not knowing whom to turn to for help, he decided to take support from his boss.

  “Sir,” he said hesitantly, his eyes pleading, “you don't know my parents. They are against this marriage. How...”

  “Don't you worry about that, my son. If I know Ganapathi, the marriage will take place as scheduled.”

  “But Pappa,” said Rakesh, a scowl marring his brow, “Appa and Amma will never agree.”

  “Why don't you sit back and watch the fun, Rakesh? It's a rare opportunity to watch the mastermind at work,” smiled Padmanabhan, recalling Ganapathi's determined and daring attitude.

  17

  Sangita had slipped into a fitful slumber when her phone rang.

  She woke up with a start to answer it. Her eyes automatically looked towards the other cot where her son was sprawled on his stomach, fast asleep, his lips slightly parted.

  A smile lit her face as she said, “Hello,” knowing fully well who was at the other end. It was one o' clock in the morning.

  “Hi!” cooed the sexy voice right into her ear. “Miss me?”

  “Oh yeah,” groaned Sangita, “very much. How are you?”

  “Why don't you come up to your terrace and find out?”

  A few seconds passed before Sangita understood what he was saying. At least she thought she did. She got out of her bed with a jerk. “What are you saying, Gautam?” she asked, her voice a stunned whisper, “are you outside the gate?”

  “Why don't you come up and find out?” he asked cheerily. A pair of blue eyes bright with laughter and a dimpled cheek taunted Sangita's imagination as she raced up the staircase leading to her terrace, trying her best to be as quiet as possible.

  T
he door was open, to her surprise. She closed it cautiously behind her, her heart beating like a drum in the quiet of the night.

  And there, standing in front of her, silhouetted against the light coming from the street lamps, was her soon-to-be husband, his teeth gleaming white against the darkness of the night, as he grinned at her.

  She flew into his waiting arms, not bothering to find the whys and wherefores that had led to his presence on the terrace at that time of the night.

  “Gautam,” she sighed as she looked up into his face, her arms sneaking up his shoulders to twine around his neck.

  “Sangita,” came the tortured acknowledgement as Gautam swooped down to capture her lips in a sizzling kiss.

  Silence reigned as the two clung together, trying to make up for the past week when they hadn't set eyes on each other.

  When they finally came up for air, she buried her face against his broad chest, her arms tightly wound around his waist.

  Gautam pressed his lips against her ear, his tongue tracing the curves. “So tell me,” he whispered, “how are you?”

  “Okay,” came the muffled reply.

  He ran his hand in a caress against her head. As he moved lower, he felt her braid. “What's this?” came the low growl, “what've you done to your hair?” he asked impatiently, desperate to run his hands through it.

  She raised her head to look at his frowning face, her own alight with joy. She removed her arms from his waist to pull her braid apart. Her hands trembled as she felt his lips against her throat, his tongue flicking at the pulse beating there.

  “Gautam!”

  “Hmm.” His lips moved to the curve of her jaw, his fingers buried in her hair which was loose now, as he framed her face in his large hands, his head dipping once again to kiss her lips.

  Sangita's hands gripped his forearms. He controlled his passion with difficulty when he felt the tug on his arms as she tried hard to prise his hands from her face.

  He raised his head to look at her, his hands leaving her hot face to move down her back and settle on her hips as he held her slender body against his own.

  Sangita braced her hands against his chest, pushing away from him. Gautam watched the play of emotions on her face with satisfaction. Her long, thick hair came down on her shoulders to fall further along her back, touching his hands as they lay on her hips. Her eyes were shining in the faint moonlight, despite the effort she put in to frown up at him. Her lips were parted, her breath coming in short gasps as a result of the kisses they had shared.

  His eyes moved lower down to see her breasts heaving with the deep breaths she was taking to bring down her pulse rate without much success.

  Sangita saw his gaze moving lower and felt a jolt through her nerves as her nipples perked to attention. She was shocked at her own reaction. Her breasts throbbed as their tips hardened to push against her thin nightie.

  Gautam watched her body's reaction as his own tightened in response. His left hand firmed on her hip as his right climbed up her waist on its way to cup her left breast.

  Sangita guessed his intention and panicked. She caught hold of his rising hand and pressed herself against his body, frightened of herself. But the shock was worse.

  Her breasts suddenly appeared to have a life of their own. Her nipples got impossibly hard as they came in contact with his firm chest. Sangita moaned softly as she lost control over her treacherous body.

  Her breasts ached in desire. But she was clear that she didn't want Gautam to touch them. Images of Giridhar crushing them painfully flashed in her mind and she whimpered.

  Gautam gave a frustrated sigh as he squeezed his arms around her waist. So near and yet so far! For a moment there he had been sure that Sangita was going to allow his intimate touch. But now it looked as if she had remembered her first husband. He cursed silently, not having the heart to hurt her more.

  “Sweetheart, look at me,” he implored.

  Sangita raised her face to look at him, her eyes glazed with a combination of fear and an undercurrent of spent passion. He ached to sweep away the memories of her marriage to Giridhar in one stroke.

  But Gautam realised that he needed time and patience for that job. He looked at his fiancée tenderly; his eyes alight with adoration, his hands caressing her hair soothingly.

  “Don't be afraid of me, Sangita. I'll never hurt you,” he promised.

  Sangita gave a small nod. “I know.” She didn't tell him that she was more scared of her reaction than him.

  Holding her tightly against his body with his left arm, Gautam reached inside his jeans' pocket to remove a jewellers' box and gave it to Sangita.

  She looked at him in surprise. “Go on, open it,” ordered Gautam.

  She pressed the catch and the lid sprung open to reveal the most exquisite diamond ring Sangita had ever seen. There were seven small diamonds in all, in the shape of a flower, six around and one in the centre. They shone brilliantly in the moonlight, sparkling with an inner fire.

  She gasped in delight as Gautam removed it from its velvet bed to place it on the ring finger of her left hand.

  “There, that's made you my fiancée, officially,” he said, a note of triumph in his voice. He lifted her hand to kiss it gently.

  “Thank you, Gautam, I've never had an engagement ring before. I'm overwhelmed. It's fantastic,” whispered Sangita, joy and awe on her face.

  “But of course, it's for the most beautiful woman on this earth,” he said as he stole a kiss unexpectedly.

  “Gautam!” Sangita's voice was impatient. “Are you sure you're okay? Don't keep calling me beautiful. That's not true,” she said vehemently.

  The blue eyes took fire as his temper flamed. “I don't lie,” he bit out.

  “But,” Sangita's eyes clouded in confusion, “I'm not beautiful,” she pointed out.

  “Says who?” he spat.

  “Well,” she looked at him warily, a trifle worried about bringing up her first husband's name. But then he had been the only other man she had known. “Giridhar thought...”

  “I don't wanna know that damn fool's opinion. Anyway, what does a louse know about a woman's beauty?” he asked sarcastically.

  Sangita agreed wholeheartedly that Giridhar was a louse. But she knew she wasn't beautiful. Presentable, may be, but definitely not a beauty. Gautam was mistaken, she was sure.

  It didn't occur to her that each time she looked in the mirror she recalled Giridhar abusing her body and just hated the sight of it. She was unaware of her own attractiveness.

  She decided to change the subject and suddenly remembered where they were.

  “Gautam,” she raised accusing eyes to his face, “How come you're here? I told you not to come. It's so dangerous. I suppose you climbed over from the front. You could have fallen down. You...”

  Gautam bent down and kissed her into silence as he couldn't get a word in edgeways.

  He lifted his head to look at her in mirth. “How I wish I could play Romeo to your Juliet! But sadly, I'm not a teenager anymore.” He shook his head at her. “I didn't climb over the wall. I...”

  “Then how did you get here?” Sangita was even more taken aback by his reply.

  Gautam laughed. “Patience, my darling. Why don't you let me tell you?” He paused before saying, “Rakesh let me into the house and I walked up to the terrace. Sorry to disappoint you but there's no romantic daredevilry there.”

  “But, but...” spluttered Sangita, “Rakesh let you in?” she asked, sure she'd heard him wrong.

  “Yeah, sweetheart, it was your dear younger brother who let me in.”

  “But, he's so against my getting married. How could he have let you in?” she asked, puzzled.

  “It's a long story. Tell you some other day. Suffice to say that he's on our side.”

  “But that's wonderful, Gautam. How did you manage it?” she asked in admiration.

  Glad to have made her happy, Gautam bent down to remove some papers from the backpack he had kept against the wall
and gave them to Sangita.

  “That's the document for Sandeep's adoption. Read it through before signing. I'll collect it tomorrow.”

  “Oh!” Sangita was surprised that he had completed the paperwork so fast. “I don't need to read it. I'll sign it right now. Don't risk coming tomorrow, Gautam, please,” she requested.

  “What's the risk, sweetheart? Don't you want to meet me again?” he asked.

  Sangita looked at him lovingly and smiled.

  The document slipped from her hands as she closed the small distance between them to hold him once again.

  He pulled out of her embrace and said, “I hate to leave you, my dear, but I don't think my younger brother-in-law would be too happy losing sleep.”

  “What?” shrieked Sangita, “where?” She looked around her in panic.

  Gautam laughed softly. “Not here, silly. He's waiting downstairs in the hall, keeping a lookout for your parents.”

  “Oh!” Sangita wondered what kind of magic Gautam had woven over Rakesh to get him to stand guard for them.

  “Yeah, oh!” smiled Gautam as he turned her towards the door. He lifted the papers and handed them to Sangita. Picking his backpack, he said, “You go down first. I'll leave immediately after.”

  Sangita nodded before stepping forward, bereft without his arms around her.

  The same arms suddenly sneaked from behind to pull her against him once more. She tilted her head against his shoulder as he crushed her lips in a passionate kiss. Then he pushed her from him roughly and said, “Go. Now. Before I carry you away with me.”

  Sangita fled.

  After a few minutes, she heard the front door open and close before a motorbike's soft engine glided down the road.

  18

  The next day, Gautam called at about 10 o'clock to speak to Rekha. Sangita gave the cell to her sister-in-law, feeling curious.

  “Hello, Rekha, this is Gautam. We've ne'er met. How do you do?” he asked cheerfully.

  “I'm fine, thank you,” replied Rekha, in her soft voice. “Congratulations! I heard you're getting married on October 5th. Who's the bride? Anyone I know?” she teased, her dark eyes glittering with amusement as she eyed Sangita's blushing face.