by Tanu Jain
Vikram had a gut feeling that Gauri could be the catalyst. The Maharajah held her very dear and he had been devastated to learn that she had fled and had almost collapsed again.
In fact, the stroke that Maharaj had suffered a year ago had also been the fallout of a vehement argument about Gauri with the queen mother, Gauri’s grandmother.
So, he was gambling that the presence of Gauri would trigger her father’s recovery.
He looked at Gauri with angry censure as she traced her fingers along Maharaj’s inert hand. Her face wore a tragic expression and there were tears in her eyes. She seemed deeply upset about Maharaj’s state but she was good at pretending emotions she didn’t feel. If she had been so attached to her family, she wouldn’t have behaved the way she had or fled the way she had.
‘At least you are not totally unfeeling and emotionless. Although I think it is more an expression of guilt than any real feeling on your part,’ Vikram said, launching into a verbal attack.
Gauri looked up, her face paling. Her sorrow had made her forget that he was here and consequently she had let her emotions show. But she should have known he wouldn’t let go any opportunity to castigate her. She saw his eyes burning with contempt and recoiled.
‘How does it feel to face up to your actions? I hope you realise that you are responsible for his condition. It is because of you that he is like this. This is the way you have repaid all that the family has done for you! Have you no guilt or shame?’ Vikram heaped vitriolic contempt on Gauri.
Vikram’s accusations stung her deep. Who was he to show contempt to her? He didn’t know the entire truth and he had always been quick to presume her guilt. She flared back, ‘You persist in believing that everything is my fault. I didn’t know about Madhav Dada or Baba. If I had known, do you think I would have kept away? I would have come immediately.’ Sorrow and regret tinged her words.
But Vikram was unforgiving. ‘Yes, I’m sure you would have come then. No doubt for the pickings!’ he said savagely.
‘What do you mean?’ Gauri asked, unable to comprehend the meaning of his insinuations.
‘Don’t act the innocent. You know what I mean. You always had an eye for the main chance while you acted sweet and coy and fluttered your eyelashes! Wealth and money are the only motivating factors in your life! You’ve always just thought about yourself—your selfish desires and wants,’ Vikram sneered.
Gauri felt sick to her stomach as she took in Vikram’s bitter accusations. She had been at the receiving end of such accusations all her childhood. All her actions had been viewed through a veil of suspicion. Her grandmother and her half-sister, Maya, had always accused her of portraying herself in the best possible light, especially in front of her father, just so she could gain his sympathy.
She should have become immune to all the contempt but still her heart wasn’t hardened enough not to feel the pain.
But along with the pain, slow-burning anger was also filling her. She had been wrongly judged and found wanting all her life by her relatives and family. But she would no longer take it lying down. How dare Vikram condemn her? He had no idea about her. He was as bigoted and supercilious as the rest of them.
She turned on him angrily. ‘You don’t know anything about me so you’d better not throw around accusations like that. I’m a lawyer and I could take you to court for defamation.’
‘Oh, yes, I forgot you are a hotshot lawyer now! At least you chose the right career, being an expert in lies and falsehoods.’
‘I don’t deal in lies and falsehoods.’
‘Lies and falsehoods are what you specialise in! Your client list is proof of the fact. You have chosen to defend someone who is carrying on nefarious activities under the guise of doing social work. That is the worst kind of criminal.’ Vikram’s condemnation was complete.
‘I told you Mrs Singh is innocent. She is a wonderful lady and anyone who is even briefly acquainted with her knows she has been falsely accused. And her son is an excellent lawyer and will soon prove her innocence.’
‘Her son?’
‘Mr Yogesh Singh! I’m sure you recognise the name. He’s a very famous lawyer. I trained under him,’ Gauri offered smugly.
Vikram, who had been wondering why the name seemed to ring a bell, recalled that the lawyer had recently been involved in a high profile case featuring a powerful politician faced with the charge of raping his maid. The lawyer had represented the maid and had won the case for her against heavy odds and despite countless threats.
A sudden wave of jealousy streaked through him as he registered the note of admiration in Gauri’s voice when she mentioned the lawyer.
‘You seem to know him quite well. Is he your latest conquest?’ Vikram sneered.
Gauri flinched as she took in Vikram’s innuendo. He would always think the worst of her.
‘You have a one-track mind!’ she all but shouted.
‘Where you are concerned, it is the right track,’ Vikram shouted back.
Their raised voices made the nurse and the doctor come running.
‘Sir … Maharaj! Please, what are you doing?’ the doctor blurted, aghast. ‘Have you forgotten that Maharaj is lying in a coma?’
Vikram turned away angrily, frustration etched in every line. He was disgusted with Gauri and with himself, too, for letting her get under his skin. How could he have forgotten that Maharaj was lying just a few feet away? He had had enough of her.
He stormed out.
Gauri saw Vikram leave, anger etched on his face, and collapsed on a chair. She slumped dispiritedly, her face in her hands, sorrow engulfing her. Would she never get out of this wretched mess? Gradually, she pulled herself together and went and sat next to Maharaj’s bed.
She gazed at the lined face, now calm in repose, and was suddenly transported back to her childhood.
She had been five when she had first come to the palace. After her mother’s demise a lawyer had arrived and taken her to meet Maharaj, who had revealed that he was her father and she was to call him Baba and that henceforth she would be living with him at his palace. Maharaj had tried to make her comfortable by telling her about her half-sister and elder brother but he had been at a loss at how to relate to a five-year-old girl and had retreated behind his customary wall of reserve.
Dazed and grieving, five-year-old Gauri had been flung into a totally unfamiliar environment where no one seemed to love her or care for her and she had felt lost and alone. Her unhappiness was aggravated by the behaviour of her grandmother and the cruelty of her half-sister, Maya. Maya was two years older than Gauri and even at seven was a spoilt and petulant brat. She had disliked Gauri on sight and would go out of her way to ill treat and torture her.
And then Maharaj had intervened. She remembered how once Maya had gone running to her grandmother with a false tale about Gauri and her grandmother had given her a merciless beating. Bruised and hurt, Gauri had been weeping in the stables and Maharaj, who had been on a surprise visit to the stables, had heard her. He had comforted her and had angrily forbidden his mother from ever raising her hand to her. From that day onwards he had begun taking a special interest in Gauri and, despite his busy schedule, ensured that he saw her every day at meal times.
Life had taken a turn for the better since then for Gauri, especially when Madhav had come home for his holiday from boarding school and took her under his wing. Older by six years, he became her protective elder brother and would play with her and take care of her.
Maharaj had ensured that Gauri was treated as an equal to his other two children. She never lacked for material things. She was sent to the same school as Maya and always accompanied Maharaj’s family on their holidays twice a year whether in the country or abroad.
But apart from her father and brother, no one else in the family had ever accepted Gauri, much less cared about her. In their absence, she was slighted and ridiculed by all. Her grandmother continued to subject her to slaps on the sly and Maya’s baiting had increased, but Gauri
didn’t complain.
Even as a child, she had known that she would have to face the ill treatment meted out to her stoically since the repercussions of complaining would be harsh. She’d tried to develop a hard, uncaring shell for everyone except her father and brother and had done all her crying in private.
However, trouble had begun when Maya turned sixteen and she began meeting boys on the sly. The principal caught her bunking off school and suspended her as punishment after telling her to emulate her younger sister, who was an exemplary student. Being unfavourably compared to Gauri had filled Maya with murderous rage and, thereafter, she went all out to make Gauri’s life hell.
She would seize every chance to discredit Gauri in public, especially in front of her brother and father.
And Maya had finally succeeded in destroying her completely. She had trapped Gauri in a web of deceit and betrayal and ensured that she appeared to be a shameful, conniving slut.
The sound of someone clearing his throat brought her back from her reverie. She looked up and saw the bespectacled doctor hovering nearby.
‘Why isn’t he recovering? Have you consulted specialists from abroad?’ she asked urgently.
‘Yes, Yuvrani ji, we have had specialists flown in from abroad. All are of the opinion that he simply needs a trigger to unlock his brain. What the trigger is we don’t know but we are extremely hopeful that he will recover soon,’ the doctor said.
‘I see,’ said Gauri thoughtfully.
She looked at the comatose Maharaj and her mind filled with scenes from her childhood and she realised the debt she owed him. He could have settled her somewhere and paid someone to care for his illegitimate daughter and no one would have known.
But he had taken his responsibility as her father seriously, even though it hadn’t been easy for him. He had stood firm in the face of gossip and disapproval from his family, friends and society.
After his initial reticence, he had taken her to heart and loved her. He had taken immense pride in her achievements in school and had always encouraged her to study well.
She, too, had loved him more than she had anyone.
Her throat closed with emotion as she recalled the events of six years ago. Circumstances had been against her and her father had been led to believe her guilt. He hadn’t said a word to Gauri but the weight of his disappointed silence had been a heavy burden for her to bear. But she had been bound to silence and unable to prove her innocence.
In the end she had fled, believing that he would be glad to be relieved of the burden of his illegitimate daughter.
But now that she had returned she resolved that she would do her utmost to ensure that Baba was back on his feet. She clasped his inert hand in her warm one and made a silent vow to bring about his total recovery. She would pay back the debt she owed him.
‘So, you are back!’ said a harsh voice.
Gauri looked up at the sound of the voice which had been the bane of her childhood. Maharani Rajkanwar, the Queen mother and her grandmother, stood there with a sneer on her face. She was accompanied by her lady companion, who stood there seeming ill at ease. The sight of her childhood nemesis, haughty and proud as ever, still sent a frisson of fear down her spine. Her grandmother had taken immense delight in torturing Gauri physically and emotionally all through the years. She had ensured that Gauri had paid for the transgressions of her parents.
She had been the last person Gauri had seen six years ago, just before she had fled her home. The violent scene was still etched in Gauri’s mind and was ultimately why she had left. But she turned her mind away from those painful memories and stood up. The battle was about to begin. She would not take her abuse lying down any more.
She gazed back steadily. ‘Yes, I’m back.’
‘Why have you come back? Haven’t you done enough? Or have you come to gloat?’ her grandmother ranted.
‘I have come back for Baba. I don’t want to get into any arguments with you,’ Gauri said with forced calm.
‘Oh, because my son is in a coma you think you can profit from it. You have come to find if there is anything in it for you. Like mother, like daughter. I always knew it!’ her grandmother spewed her venom. ‘Well, don’t think you can just waltz in when you feel like it. I am still the mistress here and I forbid you from staying here. You are dead to us. Go away.’ Her grandmother’s poison hadn’t abated over the years.
‘I no longer need your permission for anything. I am not asking you for anything. And I am not staying with you. I am staying at the hotel. It is no longer your matter!’ Gauri said defiantly.
‘How dare you answer me back? Have you forgotten my beatings so soon?’ Her grandmother was livid and advanced towards Gauri threateningly.
Gauri stood, unflinching. ‘I’m no longer a small and defenceless girl whom you can beat! I can take care of myself now. And don’t you forget it,’ she said coldly.
Enraged at Gauri’s audacity in answering back, her grandmother raised her hand to strike her but Gauri caught her arm and faced her unflinchingly.
‘Don’t ever raise your hand to me or you will regret it!’ Gauri said with ominous calm.
Her grandmother dropped her arm as if stung but added blusteringly, ‘It is none of your business what happens here. Why don’t you just go away?’
‘I thought you cared about Baba. But actually you don’t give a damn about him. My task is to ensure that Baba recovers and if you care for him as you have always claimed, then you will not hinder my task. But if you want him to remain like this then go ahead and do your worst. I am prepared for anything.’ Gauri threw down the gauntlet with cold determination.
Her grandmother looked at her with eyes full of hate but was prodded by her lady companion to leave the room silently.
The rest of the day flew by. Gauri called Mrs Singh, who knew the details of her past, and explained the situation. Mrs Singh was extremely understanding and exhorted Gauri to stay on and look after her father.
Gauri spent the day sitting beside her father, rubbing his inert hands and willing him to recover. Around mid-afternoon a lackey came to ask her to have lunch but Gauri refused. She wasn’t hungry and the mere thought of food made her nauseous. She was feeling emotionally overwrought and was trying to bring order to her scattered emotions.
Vikram spent the entire day at the hotel working hard, meeting the staff, studying accounts and skimming through reports. They were building cottages in the vast grounds and he made a whirlwind tour of the entire hotel, which was becoming very popular and business was growing.
Just as Madhav had predicted, he thought sadly.
Not a day went by when he didn’t miss Madhav or wish he was alive to see his dream turn into reality. Madhav’s death had widened the void inside him that had been created by his mother’s death.
He had never had any friends apart from Madhav, and with him gone, he had stopped going out, socialising or enjoying parties. Life had lost all charm and meaning for him. At times only the burden of responsibility on his shoulders made him trudge ahead wearily. He welcomed the additional pressure because it enabled him to push aside the heart-wrenching loss of his friend. It also mitigated to some extent the terrible restlessness which had been dogging him since childhood.
When he had been banished to boarding school after his mother’s death, grief and depression had overwhelmed him and he had become a nervous wreck. He had taken no interest in anything, ignored his studies and had spent his time sunk in grief.
Alarmed at his condition, Vikram’s sympathetic principal had summoned his father and advised him to take Vikram home and look after him. Vikram’s father had been furious and had lambasted the principal for his concern.
His father’s words still rang in his ears. ‘How dare you tell me what to do with my son? I have decided that he will stay here and that is it! It is high time that he learnt to behave like a royal prince. I don’t want a snivelling cry baby but a tough man for a son. And as far as studies are concerned, you do
n’t need to bother. By flunking in class he is simply following our family tradition. We are Rajputs and have no need of studies!’
The principal had tried in vain to stress the importance of education for a sound future. His father had rapped, ‘My son’s future is mapped out. Rajputs don’t work! We are destined to enjoy our wealth and privilege. So, just concentrate on toughening up my son and make him a man.’
Turning to Vikram, his father said cuttingly, ‘I don’t have much hope for you. You are soft and weak like your mother! And, like your mother, I am sure you, too, will prove a failure. Be thankful that you will have my wealth to fall back upon. I don’t want to see your face until you learn to stop snivelling and crying.’
He had left and, thereafter, had sent for Vikram just once a year. Vikram had spent all his holidays first in school and later on at Madhav’s palace.
His father’s harsh words had a profound effect on nine-year-old Vikram. The harsh castigation of his mother had incensed him. His tears had dried up and the resentment against his father had blazed into a raging fire. He had vowed then and there never to be beholden to his father for anything. And he had lived up to his vow. His father had continued to pay for his board and lodging but Vikram never asked him for anything. He would exist on the bare necessities, going without new clothes, toys and books. He rebelled against his father’s diktat that ‘Rajputs don’t work’ and began to excel in studies so much so that his excellent grades earned him a scholarship abroad.
Having completed his school education, he refused to take even a rupee from his father.
A strange restless energy had possessed him and he combined his studies with long hours at odd jobs and scrimped and saved and managed to set up a nest egg which enabled him to go into business with Madhav soon after their graduation.
