The Madras Affair

by Sundari Venkatraman

  Rekha looked at Padmanabhan with dislike. What a mean character! she thought. Luckily, Sangita couldn't hear his words. But then, Padmanabhan had guessed that she was far enough and spoken in a whisper deliberately.

  Gopal looked at him askance. He had never considered it from that angle. Padmanabhan continued, “But of course, as I told you, my daughter has a flat in her name...” he drawled, looking for a reaction.

  Radha blanched. She saw Rakesh walking away with his wife taking the car, jewellery and his big salary with him. Raghavan and Rakesh smiled as they realised that Padmanabhan was getting his point across, slowly but surely.

  “No, no,” protested Radha, “there will be no such problem. We'll take care...”“No, you listen. I know the practical world. Nowadays, that's why people get their young, widowed daughters married again. But I heard that you all are against it. Rakesh explained to me that you both will never agree to it. In that case, I'll have to ask Lata to live separately in her flat with Rakesh.”

  Gopal and Radha panicked. All this while, they had held the reins of the family in their hands. Now they saw that slipping.

  Alistair cleared his throat to draw their attention. “I am Gautam Sinclair's father. My son's a professor at Loyola College. He earns very well. He is also the fifty percent shareholder at PadmaClair Associates. Our family has no objection to him marrying a widow with a child.” He paused for a few seconds to ensure that the couple was paying him full attention.

  Radha glowered at him while Gopal considered his words thoughtfully. Alistair could see Gopal's mind working favourably towards his cause and struck while the iron was hot.

  “In fact, I'm ready to pay a handsome dowry on my son's behalf,” he declared.

  Sangita straightened in her sitting position at the top of the staircase. He couldn't mean it. Gautam's father couldn't mean to buy her with money. Something like this cannot happen in these modern times, not in the middle of the bustling metro of Madras, anyway. And of course her parents would never accept it. Their self-respect and neighbours' opinions counted more than anything else, surely. She looked down warily on the scene that had taken on the guise of a nightmare. All considering, it was her future at stake.

  But between self-respect and greed, the latter won hands down. Sangita's parents were in total agreement. They didn't even take time off to consult each other. The moment Alistair Sinclair spoke of a dowry, he had Radha's undivided attention. They would be getting a dowry and also be getting rid of the daughter who had been nothing but a source of tension since her birth.

  “And I'll pay in dollars.” That did it. Both the parents were all for the idea. The main worry of what Rakesh's father-in-law would have to say about his sister's remarriage also didn't exist anymore. They conveniently forgot their neighbours now.

  “How much?” asked Gopal, licking his lips greedily.

  “Ten thousand,” declared Alistair as if he was speaking of a paltry sum.

  Rekha smiled at the two guests as she finally realised the purpose of their visit while Raghavan and Sangita hung their heads in shame.

  Sangita burned with mortification as Gautam's father quickly wrote a cheque and handed it over to Gopal. “Now, may I meet my daughter-in-law?”

  Gopal and Radha couldn't have cared less and gestured to Rekha to deal with it.

  But Sangita was nowhere in the vicinity. Rekha excused herself and rushed up the staircase. Sangita's bedroom was shut. Something was surely wrong. Rekha knocked on the door.

  “Sangita,” she called out softly, when the door continued to remain closed.

  There was no response.

  “Sangita, Gautam's father's waiting to meet you,” she called out in a louder tone.

  But Sangita didn't budge from the floor where she sat curled into a tight ball of misery. She felt like a slave who had been sold in an open market to the highest bidder. Could nobody care less that she was being sold for $10000?

  She had believed that Gautam respected his dog better than her parents did her. Then how could his father...? Sangita rubbed an angry hand across her eyes to stop the flow of tears.

  She had always known no human being was worth it. So why the pain now? Why the tears? Gautam's father had only underlined her disillusionment of the human race.

  And she had imagined that Gautam was unlike the rest.

  A moan escaped Sangita as she crossed her arms tightly around her trembling body. She felt so alone.

  Rekha gave up after a few minutes. She made some poor excuse to Alistair Sinclair and sighed in relief as the two gentlemen took their leave.

  Exactly fifteen minutes later, Sangita's cell rang. She lifted her head with a jerk, staring at the instrument blankly for a few seconds. She got up purposefully and switched it off without bothering to check who the caller was. She had a tough time controlling the wild impulse to smash it against the wall to relieve her frustration.

  Of course she knew who it was; her very latest cause for disillusionment.

  Anger and self-pity gushed through her, making her body shake all the more. She gritted her teeth in temper.

  When Giridhar had ill-treated her, she hadn't cared beyond a point. She had become numb after a time. But, now the pain she felt was excruciating. She felt betrayed. Why? What did Gautam mean to her? He was just a man. But...but, his gentle face flashed before her eyes. Oh, God! She had believed he was different from the others.

  Sangita lifted her hand and smote her forehead hard. But it didn't relieve her of her frustration. What was she to do now? She imagined a life without Gautam. 'I'd rather die,' was the predominant thought. Why? She looked around her, bewildered. Could she be...? Sangita shook her head violently in negation. Of course she couldn't be in love with him. How could she; she who was frigid; she who hated men? But, she had connected with him from the first day she met him. She believed that he cared for her. But falling in love with him? A groan escaped Sangita. How can it be? She couldn't be such a fool. Was it love that made it impossible for her to think of a life without Gautam? Was it love that made her do things that she would have otherwise never dreamt of doing just to be in his arms? Was it love that made every part of her body writhe with pleasure just by his very touch?

  While Sangita was warring with her inner-self, there was a commotion outside her door.

  Gautam, who had been welcomed by Sangita's parents with open arms, had reached the closed door to her bedroom in a few seconds.

  He knocked the door hard.

  “Sangita, it's me, Gautam. Open the door.”

  She felt her body respond to his voice and finally admitted to herself that she had got her answer. It was indeed love that she felt for Gautam, an emotion she never thought she could feel for a man. Fresh tears rolled down her cheeks.

  She could take her parents for her enemies. Her brothers too. Her husband also had been against her. She could put up with it.

  But Gautam's betrayal, as she believed it to be—she just couldn't bear it. A loud sob wrenched at her throat and she pressed a fist against her mouth to stop herself from wailing.

  Gautam, who had been listening intently for Sangita's reply, heard a cry of pain and wondered what could have gone wrong. He knocked rapidly on the door again and called out in a louder voice, “Sangita, Sangita.”

  “Just go away,” snarled Sangita, her fury rising once again.

  “Sangita,” Gautam called out once more in a soothing voice. “Will you open the door? I wanna talk to you.”

  “No,” shouted Sangita. “Just go away.”

  “Sangita,” said Gautam, “Are you opening this door now or shall I break it down?” he asked in a matter-of-fact voice.

  Sangita considered his threat, speculating whether he would dare to actually do it. She thought not. How could he? Her parents would never...her eyes widened as the full truth hit her like a ton of bricks. Not anymore. Her parents wouldn't come between Gautam and her anymore.

  Her lips curled in a bitter smile. They had received a pre
tty hefty amount to get rid of her. And the alacrity with which they had accepted Alistair Sinclair's cheque...a loud sob escaped from Sangita as she once again relived the indignity of the scene earlier.

  And her temper rose to a crescendo against the man who was responsible for her abject humiliation. Even Giridhar hadn't contrived to make her feel so cheap.

  Suddenly, there was a loud noise outside, as if someone was trying to break open her door, which was precisely what Gautam was doing.

  Sangita stared at the door in confusion as the bolts rattled in protest as yet again Gautam hit it with his muscular shoulder.

  She moved forward and pulled the bolt and threw the door open. Gautam almost fell into the room sideways as he forcefully attempted to push the door open for the third time. He swiftly gained his balance, walked into the room and pushed the door shut.

  He tucked his hands into his jeans' pockets and leaned against the door to look at his fiancée. Her tear-streaked face rattled him. He tried to catch her eye in vain.

  Sangita folded her arms tightly in front of her and resolutely looked down at the floor.

  “Sangita,” Gautam called out softly. “What's wrong now? Something seems to have upset you.” A frown marred his broad forehead.

  Understatement of the year! Sangita refused to acknowledge him.

  “Sweetheart!”

  That brought her head up swiftly. Her face was full of anger, her enraged eyes burning like flames. “Don't you dare 'sweetheart' me!” she ordered him in a voice choked with emotion.

  “But Sangita,” spoke Gautam in a tone meant to soothe her ruffled feathers, “I don't know what's bothering you...” he took a step forward in her direction.

  She moved several steps backwards, putting more space between them.

  “Don't come anywhere near me. I hate you!” she asserted passionately.

  The heartfelt declaration that was supposed to shake Gautam seemed to have the opposite effect. There was a glint of anticipation in his eyes as they studied her stormy face hungrily.

  He took another step towards her. She raised a hand in protest. “Stop where you are!”

  Gautam didn't know whether to be amused or annoyed at her behaviour. The woman he had met and fallen in love with seemed to have a wild temper. He could believe it only because he was seeing it with his own eyes. A small smile brought forth the dimple into evidence much to Sangita's exasperation. She didn't want to be reminded of any of the qualities that endeared him to her.

  Reflecting on the scene downstairs, Sangita glared at Gautam with renewed vigour.

  Gautam looked at his livid fiancée and wondered what could have gone wrong. When his father returned home to say that Sangita had refused to meet him, Gautam had been unable to believe his ears. But the evidence was right here in front of his eyes.

  “Sangita, unless you tell me what's eating you, how can I help you?”

  “I don't need your help,” bit out Sangita even before he completed his question.

  “But...”

  “Your father had the unmitigated gall,” she glowered at him accusingly, her chest heaving in anger, “he had the gall,” she repeated, “to buy me with money. Just who the hell do you think you are? I am not and will never be your slave.” Tears poured down her cheeks. “Nor am I a cheap prostitute who can be made available at a rich man's fancy.” Her voice broke as she rubbed her wet cheeks impatiently.

  Comprehension dawned on Gautam's face. He felt terrible. It was true that his father had done what he had with the best of intentions. And Sangita's parents being what they were, had accepted the money without a word of protest.

  While Gautam had presumed that the problem had been solved easily, it had been foolish of him not to have considered the impact on the sensitive Sangita. Remorse clouded Gautam's eyes.

  “My darling, I'm so sorry,” he apologised profusely, his sincerity obvious.

  Sangita gave him a startled look.

  Gautam moved forward and gathered her into his arms before she realised what he was up to.

  “I'm so very sorry, sweetheart. I didn't realise. It didn't strike me...”

  Sangita clenched her hands into fists and pressing them against his broad chest, pushed at him.

  “Let me go.”

  “Never, Sangita.”

  “I'll never marry you. I'll not be bought. I...”

  Gautam bent down and silenced her in the only way he knew. She glared at him, trying hard to pull away. When his hold tightened around her, she kicked hard at his shin in protest.

  Both of them sprang apart as Gautam winced in pain while Sangita shrieked as her bare toes throbbed with the impact on his shin. A smile broke out on Gautam's face. A fiery hellcat, no less!

  “Sangita, I did say I'm sorry.”

  “What the hell for? The damage is already done. Your father thinks I'm cheap. He...”

  “Don't be silly, Sangita. Of course he...”

  “I am being silly?” Sangita's voice had gone dangerously calm. Her now dry eyes shot daggers at him.

  Gautam put out his hands in a gesture of peace. “Okay, not silly, maybe. But my father didn't mean to hurt or insult you. He...”

  “Oh! Maybe American girls feel wonderful when they're bought and as he knows only that culture...” she drawled sarcastically. “Or maybe he paid money to buy your...”

  “That's enough, Sangita.” Now it was Gautam's temper that had risen to the surface. “Don't you dare insult my parents!”

  Sangita's eyebrows rose expressively. “If I say that your father paid money for your mother, it's an insult. Just the mere suggestion upsets you. While your father actually paid...” Her voice shattered as she turned away from the man she had fallen in love with, her shoulders wracked by sobs.

  Gautam placed his hands on Sangita's slender shoulders. “Please, Sangita. Dad would never insult you. You know what happened the other day when my grandparents came over to talk to your parents. Dad couldn't think of any other way to gain your parents' permission for our wedding.” His voice was soft while his hands kneaded her shoulders, trying to relieve the tension from her muscles.

  Gautam brought his mouth close to her ear. “Sangita, please don't be upset, my darling. You know how much all of us have been working on getting your parents' consent. Now it's done. What else? You have heard the saying, 'All's fair in love and war'. Why don't you accept the gesture for what it is?”

  Sangita tilted her head to look at him. The soft kneading of her shoulders was setting her blood afire. All that anger in her had quickly shifted into a reaction she couldn't quite identify with. Her subconscious registered that he was absolutely right and she had worked up a temper over nothing.

  She was rather confused as Gautam pulled her close to him, his arms going around her bare waist, her soft back pressed against his chest. Her sari pallu came off her shoulder, laying bare her chicly bloused bust. Sangita's head fell against his shoulder in surrender as she gave in to the inevitable. She felt more vulnerable than ever after discovering she was in love with him.

  A pulse beat rapidly as Gautam nuzzled her neck, trailing wet kisses against the soft skin between her neck and shoulder.

  Her response flared instantly as her passionate temper had converted into sexual tension. Only she couldn't recognise it for what it was.

  But Gautam, understanding only too well the state she was in, pulled her even tighter into his embrace, not giving her an opportunity to think.

  His lips traced the line of her jaw before capturing her soft ones in an erotic kiss. She had never felt like this before. Her whole body felt more alive than ever. She could feel his hard chest, hips and thighs against her back as they were moulded to one another.

  She couldn't gather enough energy to stop his hands from moving from her waist to cup her breasts. Her breasts swelled in response as if to celebrate his possession. Her nipples hardened and pushed against the palms of his hand. She raised her hands to pull them away. But the half-hearted attempt never
came about.

  His tongue took a slow and sensuous tour of Sangita's mouth in a mind-blowing kiss. Her slender form shuddered against his hard frame in response to the onslaught. Her heart seemed to swell with the mounting pressure, making her pulse jangle. Her body felt chilled while the parts that were in contact with Gautam's appeared to be on fire.

  Gautam turned her around to face him, without breaking the kiss. Sangita's soft breasts were now crushed against his hard chest. She was surprised to find that she enjoyed the sensation. Her arms were wrapped around his waist tightly. It was like holding on to a lifebuoy in the middle of a raging ocean of ardour.

  Sangita buried her face on his chest. “I'm sorry,” she whispered. “I...”

  “Forget it,” said Gautam, “I have.” He put his hand under her chin and said with a wide smile of amusement, “so the cool little lady has a fine temper, huh?”

  Sangita blushed.

  He rubbed his nose against hers. “Now will you get ready to meet my family?”

  “Gautam, what must your father think of me? I feel so embarrassed. I acted on impulse. I felt so hurt and angry. I...”

  “Relax, sweetheart. I'm here with you, aren't I?” His finger idly traced the piped edge of her blouse, caressing the skin that showed above the neckline.

  A small moan escaped her. “Sangita.” He bent down to trace with his lips the path taken by his finger. Her hands tangled in the golden-brown strands of his hair.

  Her intention had been to pull his head away from her chest as panic had set in at the liberties he was taking with her traitorous body. But her hands tugged him closer.

  Gautam's jaw line was taut with the effort it cost him to restrain his longing to make complete love to her right there and then. With a terrific sense of self-control he lifted the end of her sari that was trailing on the floor and covered her chest with it.

  She gave him a startled look that confirmed her complete lack of awareness of her state of déshabillé. She raised shy eyes to look at the man who had moved a couple of feet away from her to stand by the door.