Flaming Sun Collection 1: Happily Ever Afters from India Box Set (The Malhotra Bride; Meghna; The Runaway Bridegroom)

by Sundari Venkatraman

  “Shyam, don’t try my patience,” Rajni ordered. Shyam’s eyebrow went up in an expression of surprise as if to wonder from when she had acquired that particular virtue. His supercilious facial cast only managed to fan her temper some more.

  “Where have you hidden him?” she demanded to know.

  Shyam shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. “Do you think Rahul is a sack of potatoes for me to hide him where I pleased?”

  Rajni didn’t appreciate her husband’s humour. “Don’t be silly. Where’s he?”

  “Didn’t Rahul tell you where he is? Why don’t you call him and find out?” countered Shyam calmly.

  Rajni appeared blank. Her son hadn’t been home since three days and she hadn’t missed him. She wasn’t even aware whether he was in town or not, let alone that he was outside the country.

  “When have either of you told me anything?” she asked bitterly. Shyam refused to reply to what he considered to be a foolish question and waited for her to continue.

  “Did I hear right when I was told that he’s found himself a girl?” asked Rajni, her voice a shriek, her stance belligerent.

  Shyam wasn’t exceptionally surprised on hearing the question. He always knew that she had her spies around the house and obviously one of them overheard the conversation he had with Ramsay a while ago and loyally passed on the message to the mistress of the house. Rajni appeared too disturbed as she had obviously left some party in a hurry.

  “So what if he has?” asked Shyam.

  Sparks flew from Rajni’s eyes as she glared at her husband, who sat there calmly, drinking from his glass. She controlled the mad rage that made her want to fling the contents of it on his face and hurl his glass into the fire burning away in the grate. She knew her husband of thirty-two years better than that. Words were more than what he tolerated from her, as she had found out to her pain and humiliation. There were many temper tantrums she had controlled for fear of his retaliation. He never needed to resort to violence. He had sole control over all the bank accounts. And Rajni knew better than to argue with that.

  “Shyam.” Rajni’s voice dripped honey in a sudden about face. She moved towards her husband very gracefully, swinging her still slim hips very delicately. She reached him and sat down on the carpet near his outstretched feet. She ran a caressing hand over his trouser-clad leg and Shyam just stopped himself from recoiling as if touched by a snake. He always avoided showing any emotion as far as his wife was concerned. He made an extra effort to control the revulsion pushing the bile into his throat.

  “Shyam. Listen to me. You know what a darling Aisha is,” she purred. “Her parents are so rich and they’ve a very important standing in society. She’ll make an ideal wife.” She looked at Shyam expectantly, sure that she had convinced him.

  “Well, are you suggesting that we get divorced then?” asked Shyam, his expression extremely solemn. Only Rahul would have recognised the tiny mischievous glint at the back of his eyes that belied the seriousness of the question.

  Rajni paled visibly. “Shyam, what are you saying? Why should we get divorced?” Her voice had become hoarse, her high flying life seeming to fade away in front of her eyes.

  “Well, my dear,” Shyam’s voice was mildly sarcastic. “I don’t know of any law that allows bigamy.” He pretended to appear bemused. “Not that I want to particularly marry Aisha,” he concluded, tongue-in-cheek.

  Rajni looked at Shyam as if he had taken leave of his senses. But then, she could never relate to his teasing nature. “Don’t be stupid, Shyam. I’m talking about Rahul and Aisha. What a wonderful couple they’d make. I can’t wait to—”

  “Just hold on a minute,” Shyam cut her off mid-sentence. He felt quite sorry for her. She seemed obsessed with the idea of this match. “You heard Rahul’s opinion the other day. He’s not interested in Aisha. There’s no point to this conversation.” Shyam got up from his chair to get himself another drink, expecting Rajni to take the hint and leave. He should have known better.

  “What’s this I hear about some girl Rahul is interested in?” Rajni changed track, her expression distasteful.

  Shyam looked at his wife, debating whether to tell her or not. He quickly came to a decision and sat down on the recliner. He decided to reason with her. “Look here, Rajni. Rahul’s in love, I think. With his childhood sweetheart.”

  “Meghna,” screamed Rajni. “Are you talking about that bitch Sushma’s daughter? That ruthless female who stole my Rahul from me? Oh my GodMy poor son I’m sure the daughter’s as bad as the mother was, if not worse. Pretending to offer love and poisoning a son against his own mother—”

  “Just shut up” Shyam’s quiet admonishment stopped the tirade gushing out of Rajni’s lips. “And get out of this room.” He regretted his decision to talk some logic to the most unreasonable creature he had had the misfortune to meet - the one that was his wife.

  Rajni got up in a hurry, her mind buzzing with ideas. She walked towards the door. “Do apologise to poor Ramsay. He doesn’t deserve to be at the receiving end of your lashing tongue.” Shyam’s voice stopped her in her tracks. “You know better than to force my hand at choosing between the two of you,” he said in reply to her unspoken query.

  Shyam turned towards the newsreader who was reading out the headlines again and proceeded to push his wife out of his mind.

  A seething Rajni went to her bedroom that was on the opposite wing to the Master Bedroom and made a call to Aisha. She told her about Rahul’s visit to India and explained her next plan of action, which suited the younger girl just fine.

  Eleven

  Navratri is a much celebrated colourful festival of India. Following the Hindu calendar, it generally falls between the latter half of the month of September and the former half of October. Navratri literally means nine nights.

  As per Hindu mythology, Mahishasura was a demon king who ruled over the earth. He was extremely cruel and people suffered miserably under his power. He aspired to rule the Heavens and the Hades as well. Goddess Durga meditated for nine days and nights standing on one foot over the tip of a needle and conquered him on the tenth day. The nine days and nights of meditation constitute Navratri and the tenth day is called Vijayadasami or Dasshera meaning the ‘victorious tenth day’.

  The nine days are considered very auspicious and celebrated in various fashions in the different states of India, one common thing being the worship of Goddess Durga.

  In states like Maharashtra and Gujarat, people get together to dance into the wee hours of all the nine nights. They get together in groups and using a pair of sticks called dandiyas, form circles and dance to loud music, both religous and filmy.

  On this particular night in late September, Sanjay had bought tickets for all of them to attend the Dandiya Raas at the Parsi Club along with a Buffet dinner. Sanjay and Rahul were ready way before the women and children.

  Both the men were attired in churidhar kurtas made of off-white tussar silk. They wore bright coloured, embroidered waistcoats, royal blue for Rahul and a dark red for Sanjay with matching embroidered Kashmiri caps embellished with sequins decorating their dark locks and Kolhapuri slippers on their feet. Rahul sported a small, thick, gold earring on his left earlobe.

  They were enjoying a glass of scotch and soda when Rehaan burst out of his bedroom. He wore jeans and a t-shirt. His face was puffed-up as if he had been crying as he ran over to Sanjay to be lifted into his arms.

  “Daddy,” Rehaan buried his face in his father’s neck, putting his arms around him to hold him in a tight grip.

  Sanjay hugged his son close to his chest, kissing him on top of his head. “Yeah, sonny, what’s it? Had you been crying?” He asked gently.

  Rehaan lifted his head to look at his father mutinously even as his lips quivered as he tried to be the perfect gentleman and not howl his heart out. Sanjay chucked him under his chin and said again, “Heh, Buddy what’s it? Why aren’t you wearing your new dress?”

  Rehaan didn’
t wait for his father to complete the question. His face crumpled as large tears exploded from his chocolate coloured eyes. “I don’ wanna wear it. I don’ like” He declared fervently.

  Sanjay patted his son’s back a couple of times before mopping his little face with a tissue. “There, Darling. Don’t wear the dress if you don’t like it. Please don’t cry, Sweetheart.”

  Rehaan’s tears stopped as if a tap had been turned off the moment his father told him that he need not wear the new dress.

  The child had been fascinated by the new traditional folk costume his mother bought for him. But when he wore the short shirt called kedia with long, tight sleeves; pleated frills at the waist; highly embroidered border and the tight trousers, he found them completely alien and wanted his mother to take them off him immediately.

  The little devil Sasha had taunted him non-stop as he got out of the funny clothes and into the comfortable jeans and t-shirt. Hence the tears.

  Rehaan narrated this catastrophe in his baby language while his father listened patiently, nodding and shaking his head at appropriate intervals.

  Rahul watched their interchange with great enchantment. He couldn’t help smiling as he heard Sasha’s role in the story.

  She walked out as if on cue, just as Rehaan came to the end of his pathetic story. He let out a murderous yell as he caught sight of her and jumped out of his father’s arms. He went to her in a flash and pulled at the red satin ribbon that was intricately woven into her dark curling hair.

  Sasha shrieked before hitting her little brother hard on the hand pulling at the precious ribbon. Both the children raised hell in the few seconds it took for Sanjay to separate them.

  “Quiet,” ordered Sanjay, without raising his voice. Rahul was amazed at how the squabbling children calmed down immediately at their father’s command.

  That was only for a few seconds. Pandemonium broke out as both started yelling simultaneously, at the top of their voices, complaining and calling names.

  Sanjay raised his eyes heavenwards before sharing an amused glance with Rahul. Then he turned towards the kids and asked very softly, “Shall we go to the Dandiya Raas or cancel the programme?”

  The shock worked wonders. “Now listen to me, you little guys. Rehaan will go in jeans and t-shirt as he’s more comfortable in them.” Rahul wondered how Sanjay managed to keep the laughter out of his voice as Sasha made a monkey face on hearing this. “Sasha, you have to stop nagging Rehaan.”

  “But Daddy, his new dress is so cute. He—” Rehaan shook his fist at her. Sanjay spoke once again. “Listen, Sasha Darling. Rehaan doesn’t like it. And we’ll not force him to wear it. Now let me look at your dress.” He distracted her attention away from his son. “You look very sweet.”

  Little Sasha turned around to look at Rahul for approval. She wore a traditional Ghaghra choli in a bright shade of red with golden sequins shimmering all over every time she turned. She did a pirouette that bellowed the ankle length skirt for Rahul’s benefit. She had matching red ribbon in her hair which was still intact - no thanks to Rehaan - and red shoes on her tiny feet.

  “You look very cute,” said Rahul as he bent down to meet her at eye level. He leaned forward to receive a wet kiss from her for his efforts.

  Then he turned around to look at the now silent Rehaan. They studied each other for a while before Rahul threw open his arms to the little fellow. The child ran into them as Rahul lifted him high above his head, tickling him.

  Rehaan giggled, clinging to Rahul’s neck. He touched the bright blue cap on his head with great interest. Rahul asked him, “Do you want to wear it?”

  Rehaan shook his head firmly before saying, “No” as he wiggled out of Rahul’s arms. He ran into his room and brought out a similar blue cap, smaller in size and placed it on his head, grinning at the older man.

  Rahul smiled back at the little guy, gently adjusting the cap to the back of his head before solemnly shaking hands with him.

  Both Meghna and Reema walked out of their rooms from the opposite ends within a minute of each other. The men looked on, turning their heads from side to side, their mouths hanging open.

  It was obvious that the women had gone to a lot of effort to achieve a fabulous effect. They reached the middle of the drawing room and twirled around for the men’s benefit.

  Reema wore a designer Ghaghra choli in a combination of burnt orange and hot pink with gold jardousi work. She wore chunky gold jewellery to match, long dangling earrings, necklace and gold bangles interspersed by coloured metal ones of orange and fuschia. Orange mojiris with gold embroidery decorated her feet and she looked stunning. Sanjay walked to her and kissed her lightly, his eyes gleaming with love.

  But Meghna stole the show in her black chiffon Anarkali suit over a lining of silver glitter. The top flowed down to a couple of inches above her ankles while the churidhar cuff of black peeped above black and silver mojiris. The black set off her golden colour while she appeared taller than ever in the outfit. Her silky brown hair was a tumbling mass of curls arranged beautifully around her radiant face. Large, circular, silver earrings hung from her delicate shell-like ears. A matching necklace encircled her slender throat. Silver bangles jingled on her arms. The back of the top was cut deep, almost to her waist while it was held together with silver strings below her neck and the middle of her back. She wore a dupatta of silver net on one shoulder.

  Her make up was light. A tikli of black and silver shone on her forehead. Pale silver glitter shadowed her eyelids with dark brown outlining her eyes. A pale blush highlighted her cheekbones and a natural shade of lipgloss completed the make up.

  Rahul stared at her before blinking his eyes a couple of times to clear his vision. No, she wasn’t a figment of his imagination. His face broke into a smile as he walked closer. She stood still, blushing to the roots of her hair, waiting for his compliment.

  Rahul lifted her hands to his lips before commenting, “Now I can see why you chose black nail-polish. It’s perfect.”

  Meghna raised astounded eyes to his face and stared enchanted at the gold ring on his left ear. He looked wild and untamed.

  Rahul felt himself drawn into the grey pools that were her eyes as she stared at him beseechingly. They invited him to tell her how lovely she looked. But all he felt was panic at the thought of commitment. The Rahul of the afternoon seemed to have disappeared with the setting sun. This man wanted to just turn tail and run.

  He forced himself to turn away from the ravishing girl who was slowly but surely taking over his heart. He looked at Reema and said, “Bhabhi, you look gorgeous.”

  Rahul couldn’t help but notice the hurt in Meghna’s eyes and felt like a rat. He said, “Meghna, contrary to popular belief, fine feathers do a peacock make. You look wonderful in that get up.”

  He realised his mistake the moment lightning struck at him from laser sharp grey eyes. He had done it now. Opened his big mouth—no, his goddamned big gaping hole for a mouth and put not one, but both of his size eleven directly into it. Fool that he was If anyone was handing out awards for idiots, he would definitely find himself at the top of the line.

  ‘Rahul’ He mentally shook himself. ‘Grow up man You aren’t a teenager anymore,’ he chided himself. All of thirty and a few months to spare. What had come over him? That afternoon, he had as good as told Meghna that he wanted to marry her. No wonder she looked so hurt at his inane comments.

  Meghna looked at the silent Rahul beside her from the corner of her eyes. But his poker face told her nothing about the turbulent state of his mind.

  She turned away from him abruptly towards her nephew and niece. “Sasha sweetie pie, come to Meghna aunty. Let me see your new dress.” The young lady had been admiring her mother’s outfit. Now she turned around and ran to her aunt. “Wow, Baby. You look gorgeous.” Meghna bent down to press her hot cheek against Sasha’s cool one, trying hard to bring her hurt expression under control.

  Creep That’s what he was. She could
n’t give a damn what he thought of her looks. She didn’t care. She had checked herself out in the full-length mirror before she stepped out of her room. She knew she looked fantastic and she didn’t need him to tell her that. ‘But I went to so much effort exclusively for him,’ a small voice in her head reminded her. Meghna shook her head hard to clear it.

  “Rehaan, sweetheart, come here,” she called out loudly to drown the voice in her head. “That’s a lovely cap you’re wearing. You look so handsome.” She kissed her nephew’s cheek as he grinned his pleasure at her generous compliment. She tactfully didn’t speak about the new dress that was nowhere in sight.

  She moved forward to tuck her hand into Reema’s before turning around and asking of no one in particular, “Shall we leave?”

  Reema got into the front of the Fortuner next to her husband. Meghna insisted that both the children sit in the back along with her and Rahul. The latter tried his level best to catch her eye to no avail. She refused to even look in his direction. Reema was aware of the undercurrents as she looked at her sister-in-law’s pinched face. She said nothing as her blissfully unaware husband reversed out of the parking lot, whistling a popular tune.

  They reached the club soon but it was a while before Sanjay could find a parking place. He locked the vehicle and all of them walked to the entrance, the kids chattering excitedly.

  Sanjay was speaking to Rahul and was getting terse monosyllables in reply for his efforts. Reema and Meghna stuck together as the older woman put an arm around the younger one’s shoulder trying to get her into a better frame of mind.

  “Bhabhi, do you really think Rahul’s interested in me?” Meghna’s voice choked with emotion as she sought reassurance.

  Reema looked at her sister-in-law with compassion in her dark eyes. “I’m sure Meghna. He looks as if he’s struggling with himself. Why don’t we wait and watch?” They spoke in an undertone so as to not let the others hear.