by Varsha Dixit
Giving him a nasty look, Nandini grabbed the keys. She quickly retrieved the hairclip and cell. Clammy hands fumbled to open the car door.
On seeing her condition, Aditya felt compelled to offer, ‘Maybe you should let me drive’.
‘NO!’ Nandini screamed. ‘Wow! You really sound hysterical,’ currently, the only teeny tiny rationale, part of her brain observed.
‘The driver then?’ Aditya asked. For a reply, Nandini just got in her car and took off with screeching tyres.
Aditya cursed and ran towards the garage. Punching the code, he opened it. Dragging his Turbine Superbike out, he stuffed his head in a helmet and took off after the red car. Nandini was almost out of the gates. He saw her miss the guard post by mere inches.
‘I know you are a speed junkie but this is a bit too much, even for you,’ Aditya bit out, shooting his speed accordingly. Both the vehicles emerged on the highway.
Nandini continued to drive fast and erratic, leaving in her wake, blaring horns and squealing brakes, and of course, the expected ‘maa-bhen ki’.
Aditya, manoeuvred through the traffic following her at a safe distance, staying hidden, not wanting to spook Nandini any further.
Almost twenty or so minutes later, the red car slowed, coming to a stop near a roadside dhabha—one of several spotting either side of the highway!
From the teashop, a boy in rags approached Nandini’s side. He promptly fetched a glass of tea, her favourite kind, ‘cutting chai! ’
A few sips later and having tipped the boy generously, a calmer Nandini resumed her drive. The bike rider, way back in the rear view mirror, went unnoticed.
Soon, she pulled in the short driveway to her house. Unstopping, the motor bike passed her house. The rider saw Nandini get off.
Aditya smiled, surprisingly buoyant. The Nandini he first knew had resurfaced. Hilarious, fragile, and sensuous enough to make a man swim an ocean.
Nandini on her part directly trudged to her room, avoiding conversation with any living soul. Locking the door, she collapsed on the bed. ‘Oh my god, oh my god’ she moaned loudly, recalling the erotic and demeaning encounter with Aditya. ‘I can never face him again. Oh my god!’ she blubbered, cramming her face in the pillow.
Nandini’s cell phone buzzed loudly. She saw, ‘crazy cow’, flash gaudily on the screen. Sneha!
Finally, when the rings stopped, Nandini grabbed her cell. The screen now flashed a message, ‘38 missed calls’. Curious, she checked to see who had called so many times.
One missed call from home, one from Badi Maa’s cell, one from Dashmesh Dairy—why is Sardarji calling me?—and thirty-five from Sneha. There were also several text messages from her friend. I can’t talk right now, I’ll just SMS her, Nandini decided.
She was tempted to type, ‘The old maid got almost laid!’ but settled for, ‘Don’t worry I’m alive. I WILL CALL YOU! Go make your man happy.’
22
Boom
N ext day, close to 8 a.m., Aditya emerged from the elevator. Simone was already behind her desk. ‘Good morning Simone, how are you doing?’
‘Fine thank you Aditya. You seem to be in a good mood!’ In answer, all she got was an affable shrug of shoulders.
‘With coffee! Yours and mine, in ten in my office, please!’ Aditya speaking in shorthand, requested.
‘Aye, aye captain!’ Simone responded with a mock salute. What happened yesterday evening, she wondered. Her boss seemed to have lost the regular boorish air. ‘Probably in the farmhouse!’ she, cheekily, said to her pen.
An hour or so later, unexpectedly, the door to Aditya’s office flew open. An incensed, Sneha stood glowering there. ‘What did you do to her? Tell me right now! ’ she hurled the accusation at Aditya .
‘Thank you Simone. We will go over the presentation later. Postpone all my calls by ten minutes,’ Aditya dismissed. Simone immediately got to her feet, gathering the laptop and papers. She closed the door on the two.
‘Have a seat Sneha,’ Aditya amicably invited the girl.
‘What did you do to Nandini?’ Sneha repeated her stance aggressive.
‘Nothing happened that Nandini didn’t want.’ Aditya got up and sauntered over to the window; purposely looking outside!
Sneha snorted rudely. ‘Don’t give me that BS, something—!’
‘You still work for me!’ Aditya gently censured, still not looking at her.
‘I don’t need this job that bad.’
‘Then why are you still here?’ Aditya kept his tone civil.
‘Today, for the first time in two years or so, Nandini has called in sick. She is not answering her cell or coming on the phone to speak to me. I am here only to find out what happened, yesterday, between you two. What did you do?’ Sneha came closer.
Aditya was quiet, confounded. He had assumed Nandini to be at work in her office. The plan was to bump innocuously into her, closer to the end of the day.
‘Aditya!’ Sneha exclaimed.
Finally, Aditya turned to face her. ‘I don’t have to tell you anything. If you’re so worried, maybe you should talk to Nandini... in person.’
‘I don’t need you to tell me what I have to do for Nandi.’ Sneha flounced towards the door.
‘I’ll expect you to be back in an hour or two. ’
‘If you are so concerned, why don’t you come with me?’ Sneha mocked. Aditya chose silence over words.
Sneha opened the door, held it for a few seconds and then shut it right back. Squaring her shoulders, she twisted to stare at Aditya. He returned her look with a bland, polite expression.
‘You know Aditya, treating Nandini disparagingly, trying to force her to speak publicly, making her work late nights, and cancel plans of babysitting my son Advey whom she loves dearly... all that at some level, still could be stomached. But making Rochak Chowdhury her boss was super low... even for you.’
‘What is wrong with Rochak being her boss?’ Aditya questioned, catching on the fact that Nandini’s cancelled plans had not been with a man but a kid—her best friend’s kid. He waited for an answer.
‘Rochak Chowdhury is a perverted, lecherous slimeball who got away with someone’s attempted rape,’ Sneha spoke slowly; making sure Aditya absorbed every single word she articulated.
That did get his complete attention. ‘Whose?’ Aditya questioned, slowly rising out his chair.
Sneha opened the door, and dropped the bombshell on her way out. ‘Nandini’s! Last new year’s office party,’ she exited satisfied.
Sorry Mrs Chodhury, your apology may have moved Nandi, but not me! I always thought your creep of a husband got off easy, Sneha reckoned, quietly.
Aditya remained where he was. Blown away by the revelation, Sneha had just coughed up. Some seconds later, he harshly punched the HR’s extension on his phone .
‘Simi Kapoor here,’ came the singsong greeting.
‘Mrs Kapoor, this is Aditya Sarin,’ he growled.
‘Yes sir, yes Mr Sarin good morning!’ Simi effusively flapped. The hapless woman rocketed to her feet, until she realised Aditya was just on the phone.
‘How long have you worked with the agency?’ Aditya barked.
‘Ughh! Sir, over a year and half. I can provide you the dates.’
‘Were you there for the last new year’s office party?’
‘Yes, yes Mr Sarin, I was!’ Simi puzzled, confirmed.
‘Then I want you and the personnel file on Rochak Chowdhury in my office ASAP!’ Aditya hung up.
Within minutes, a nervous Mrs Kapoor appeared in his office with Mr Telang trailing behind.
‘I didn’t ask for Mr Telang,’ Aditya spoke, his tone curt.
‘Mr Sarin, before my recent promotion, for several years I headed the HR Department of the company. Mrs Kapoor felt it would be appropriate for me to be here, as I know more things about Rochak than she does. Some which never made it to the personnel file,’ Mr Telang replied.
‘Fine, everyone take a seat. Call Simone in, too!’
Aditya rushed, taking his chair.
‘Did some unsavoury incident occur at the party I earlier mentioned?’ Aditya came straight to the point.
Mr Telang gestured at Simi to speak up, which she haltingly did.
Half an hour later, Aditya ordered, ‘You all stay near the phone.’ Eyes ablaze, he thundered out of his office. Simone did not ask any questions; revelations made here, had left her shocked .
The sound of his cabin door vigorously flung open, startled Rochak from his work. Aditya came inside, slamming the door shut behind him. He then proceeded to shut the blinds, completely isolating Rochak and himself from the outside world.
Blanching, Rochak hastily rose, sputtering, ‘Sir, is something the matter?’ He nervously eyed, the seemingly possessed Aditya, pacing back and forth.
‘YES!’ was all Aditya could shout out, as severe rage rendered him incapable of speech. This kind of anger women only experience, when a thirty-day-weight-loss plan strictly followed for four days (three if the diet started on a Wednesday), and on and off for thirty days, does not achieve the promised twenty-pound drop in weight.
Coming back to the story! Rochak guessed what could have Aditya blowing steam, like an over-used and under-cleaned, pressure cooker. ‘Mr Sarin, yesterday what you saw between me and Nandini—’ Rochak’s words got lost in the sound of a powerful blow, cracking his jaw. Belly up, he fell to the ground.
Aditya hauled him up by his tie. Violently, he pushed Rochak against the wall. Pictures and plaques bounced around them. Using his elbow as a chokehold, Aditya actually lifted the other man a few inches in the air. ‘How dare you even take her name?’ he quietly menaced, increasing the pressure.
‘Please... help me!’ Rochak moaned, addressing someone at the door.
Aditya not finished, threatened, ‘Forget coming near Nandini! If you even think of her, I will rip you apart with my bare hands .’
Rochak desperately tugged at Aditya’s arm, trying to escape. ‘Do you understand what I said?’ Aditya dug his elbow deeper in the man’s neck .
Rochak’s face turned blue. He gagged but managed to nod. Aditya released him. Rochak tumbled on the floor massaging his neck, and gulping in big breaths of air.
‘Aditya Sarin, I will take you to the courts. I’ll have you arrested!’ he hoarsely warned, staggering to his feet, still unsteady. ‘You saw all he did!’ Rochak again addressed the person standing behind.
Aditya shifted. It was Sneha, partially inside the room.
‘I had a meeting with him,’ Sneha addressed Aditya. Then, she spat at Rochak, ‘I have no clue what you are talking about. I didn’t see a thing.’
Aditya interjected, ‘Thank you, Ms Verma. You do not have to involve yourself with this. Rochak Chowdhury, you are fired!’
Sneha left the room, her fingers furiously at work, typing a lengthy SMS to a certain someone. The song, ‘Dhoom dhoom, dhadham, dishum dishum, akal ke dushman gadhe ki dum!’, kept playing in her head—courtesy Advey. She had seen Hanuman Returns over a thousand times.
Aditya punched his own extension from the desk phone. ‘Yes!’ Simone replied, hesitantly.
‘Simone, contact HR and let them know Rochak Chowdhury is terminated, effective immediately. Send the security to throw him out of the agency’s premises. Also, contact our attorneys and inform them that Sarin Industries affiliate, AAA, wants to sue Chowdhury for punitive damages worth twenty crores, for repeated harassment of its employees and misuse of office equipment.’
Rochak leaning against the table lurched. Aditya had not finished. ‘Make sure the local media gets a whiff of this. ’
Pathetically, Rochak fell at Aditya’s feet. ‘Please forgive me! I am so sorry. I have a family!’ he grovelled.
‘So does every woman you have agonised !’ was Aditya’s cold answer.
The guards were there. ‘Get out and get lost. Just remember what I said. It covers each and every employee who works for me,’ Aditya declared, exiting without a backward glance. He ignored the peppered applause and one ear piercing seeti—courtesy Sneha Verma.
23
Mujhe Kuch Kehna Hai
L ater that evening, a knock on her bedroom door, roused Nandini from an engrossing James Patterson bestseller. ‘Come in!’ The door swung open and Nandini almost fell out of the chair.
Aditya stood there, nonchalantly sipping tea from her, ‘I-m-so-hot’ cup. Nandini, recalling their last meeting, felt a blush run from her head to toes. Aditya, too, remembered, but he kept his expression neutral. His eyes, with valiant effort found and stayed on Nandini’s hairline.
The silence stretched between them, neither wanting to break the spell the memories were casting.
‘I’m not going to the office,’ Nandini, avoiding Aditya’s eyes, huskily announced.
‘You don’t have to!’ Aditya replied, finally stepping in the room .
‘Did you just fire me?’ Nandini asked, suspiciously. How can he be so unaffected, so casual, she wondered. And, the Filmfare Award for best actor male goes to...
‘No. All I’m saying is that you come back, to work, whenever you want to,’ Aditya genially assured, leaning against a bookshelf.
‘Oh!’ Nandini mumbled confused, looking but not finding in him, the anger trademark of their recent conversations. Her loony conscience mocked, ‘Who says a way to a man’s heart, mind or wallet is through his stomach?’
Straight-faced, Aditya, pointing at Nandini’s t-shirt, inquired, ‘Is that an invitation?’
Nandini visibly cowered, remembering what the T-shirt read – This Flavor Never Goes Off The Rack. ‘You wish! I mean of course not!’ she snapped, folding her arms defensively in front. Aditya quietly continued to sip the tea, not taking his eyes off Nandini.
Nandini felt her nerves stretch as far as the equator. ‘That’s my cup!’ she blurted, the words sounded like the chatter of a five-year-old.
‘Yup, this is your cup, and this is your bed,’ Aditya quickly moved on, ‘and your room... I could go on.’ He sat in a chair across from her. Aditya forced himself to look away, his eyes snagging on something at Nandini’s bedside table – a pair of crystal lovebirds.
Nandini saw it too. ‘You can have it back if you want.’
‘No! I do not take gifts back. You keep it.’ Finally, Aditya spoke his mind, ‘Why didn’t you tell me Nandini?’
‘Tell you what? ’
‘About Rochak! Why didn’t you tell me what that man had tried to do?’
Sighing, Nandini replied, ‘It’s no big D. I can handle him.’
‘You don’t have to handle him... ever . He’s gone.’ Nandini’s eyes widened. Aditya clarified, dryly, ‘I didn’t kill him, I fired him.’ A taunt about the amount of movies she watched, hovered on the tip of his tongue, but Aditya reeled it in. Given their history, who knew where that might lead?
‘You fired him because of me?’ Nandini could not keep the wistfulness out of her voice.
Meeting her eyes, Aditya lied, ‘Not just you, others too. I discussed things with the HR Department. They had a complete file on him.’
‘Cool!’ Disappointed, Nandini glanced away, missing the blink-and-its-gone look of longing in Aditya’s eyes.
After some thought, Aditya spoke, ‘I’m sorry about what happened... yesterday, at the farmhouse.’
‘It’s alright... it’s all forgotten!’ Nandini stammered, getting to her feet, putting some distance between them.
‘Really?’ Aditya was not quick enough to reel that one.
‘What were you hoping to hear?’ Nandini snapped back at him.
‘Just want you to know that I’m not in the habit of forcing,’ Aditya said, fumbling.
‘Really?’ Nandini shot right back.
Aditya moved so he now faced her. ‘You were more than willing, that’s why it went that far, it did.’ Nandini opened her mouth to protest; Aditya cut her off, ‘And please, don’t say you were faking. I know the difference! ’
Remembering her own wanton response,
even the roots of the roots of her hair shrivelled. Nandini moved her mouth to fire an apt response, at least some response, twenty seconds late or IST time bhi daudega!
Aditya took in her miserable expression. ‘All I wanted to say was that I don’t coerce my women.’
‘You make women sound like cattle!’ Nandini grumbled, irked at the mention of the other females in his life.
‘Still the half-assed feminist?’ Aditya bemused, provoked.
Defensive, Nandini replied, ‘It’s not feminism, just—’
Aditya put his hand out. ‘Let me finish this one! It’s not feminism, just self-esteem which every female should have, right?’ He completed, genuinely smiling, remembering the often-repeated dialogue from their past bickering.
‘Yeah, something like that,’ Nandini nodded, sheepish, but somewhere pleased that he had not forgotten.
‘I’ll see you around!’ Unnerved, Aditya abruptly strode for the door. He had just called Nandini ‘my women’, and proved that not all their memories burning him were hateful.
‘I’m sorry!’ Nandini’s hastily spoken, apology stopped him in his tracks.
‘For what?’
Her conscious daringly encouraged, ‘Don’t back down... say it! I really need a goodnight’s sleep. No eye cream or tea bags can do anything for those bags under your eyes? You are almost thirty—’ ‘Shut up!’ Nandini hissed back.
‘Excuse me?’ Aditya said.
Squaring her chin, completely inflating her lungs and looking at him straight in the eyes; Nandini said, ‘Aditya, I am very sorry for what I did to you. ’
Aditya walked closer, his expression unreadable. Nandini apprehensively watched him. ‘Accha hai! Hindustani thapad ka andaaza tumhe ho gaya. ’ Dilip Kumar’s dialogue from Subhash Ghai’s classic Karma , echoed in Nandini’s head.
Halting, a hair’s breadth away from Nandini, Aditya asked, ‘Did you mean that apology or are they just hollow words ?’ His expression was dead serious.
‘I mean them, from the bottom of my heart,’ Nandini assured.
‘Why did you do it?’ Her words, to date tortured him.
