She had a quick look to check if any one was following her as she walked into the drawing room. It was a two-storey house in the most posh locality of Delhi. The drawing room was simple, with a plain beige sofa at one end and a TV at the other. A large Turkish carpet sat in the middle. As she walked further, she entered an office. There was a large L-shaped mahogany table in the front with a red swivel chair at the back. There were a few photos of Mahatma Gandhi and Mother Teresa hanging on the walls and a set of black-andwhite pictures of a couple on the desk facing him. There was a computer on one side of the table and a stack of files. To one side there was a wall-to-wall bookshelf. Ayesha walked up to the bookshelf to see the kind of books this politician kept. They ranged from economics to Stephen King, from maps to motorcycles, and from history books to Nobel Prize winners on different shelves.
‘What do you like to read?’
Ayesha jumped up, startled by the voice behind her. She turned around and saw Harshvardhan standing there, smiling with his hands folded behind his back.
She asked another question in reply. ‘Have you read all these books? Or are they just for show?’
Harshvardhan laughed. His voice was deep, melodious. ‘Who would I show them to?’
Ayesha was quickly embarrassed at being tactless. ‘I’m sorry if I offended you. I didn’t mean to. And sorry for barging into your study, I didn’t mean to do that either. Before I could stop myself I was wandering around.’
‘No it’s perfectly fine. I’m Harshvardhan.’
Ayesha smiled. ‘Ayesha.’
‘It’s lovely to meet you, Ayesha.’
‘You truly have a lovely place.’
‘Thank you. Most of the stuff a designer handles but there are a few things I love. Like this bookshelf. Do you like reading?’
‘Oh, immensely. I don’t get enough time to, though.’
‘What do you read?’
‘A lot of fiction. But I feel liked I’m moving away from it. Tired of the same old stories discussing relationships. I’ve recently discovered Osho.’ Ayesha surprised herself by discussing her reading habits with this stranger/politician. This was the most random conversation she had ever had in her life and yet it made sense.
‘I’ve just been reading my files. Inundated with them actually. I would really just like to sit in peace somewhere and read some Thich Nhat Hanh. Have you heard of him?’
Ayesha shook her head. Harshvardhan continued, ‘He writes about mindfulness. Better than Osho.’ He walked to the bookshelves and ran a finger over the spines, looking for a title. He picked one out. ‘Why don’t you borrow this,’ he said as he handed the book over to Ayesha. ‘Tell me what you think of it.’
‘You want my opinion on it?’ Ayesha was a little stunned.
‘Sure. If you get a chance to read it.’
‘Of course.’ She smiled as she took the book from his hand. ‘I would love to get back to you on that.’
Harshvardhan walked over to his desk and that’s when Ayesha noticed him properly. He was in his late 40s, maybe early 50s at the most, probably the youngest HRD minister in the cabinet. His hair was black and showing a few strands of grey at the temples. His eyes were dark green brown and he walked with nonchalant grace. He towered at maybe over six feet tall. Ayesha at just five feet two inches felt even smaller.
His profile as he looked down at his desk suggested a stubbornness that came with great power and struggle. His square jaw thrust forward as he picked up a piece of paper and turned around to address her.
‘I want to help the girl child in India,’ he said. His skin taut over his elegant cheekbones, he spoke loudly and clearly with authority, demanding attention. ‘My speech tonight is going to be about that. What do you think of this idea?’ He looked down to read as he flicked his glasses out from a case and perched them on his nose. ‘If I suggest empowerment of women through education of every girl child from the villages to the towns because each and every daughter is important to India. And that’s why we need to educate them to build a stronger nation.’
He paused, looked at her intently as if asking for her approval. Ayesha would have immediately said yes. Sure, it was a great idea. But she had another one. ‘While the idea is wonderful and noble,’ she began with a bit of hesitation, ‘the media unfortunately won’t lap it up. Every act of a politician’s life and his success is based on the perception the media gives to the people.’
‘Yes I know that,’ he said. ‘And?’
‘It’s been done before. While everyone thinks education of the girl child is important the burning question today is safety for women. That should be your agenda. Then feeding every girl child. Because if they’re hungry, then they won’t learn anything anyway. That is a very complicated process if you ask me.’
Harshvardhan’s eyes were instantly alive. ‘Go ahead, tell me more.’
Ayesha walked around slowly, thinking as she spoke and gesticulating with her hands as she explained, ‘Well the infrastructure of many places has improved but the safety of women in towns and in villages has not. You need a simple solution.’
Then he noticed how beautiful she was. She had a petite and taut body with luscious long auburn hair, a small diamond nose ring that offset her smoky, chocolate-coloured eyes and a sun-kissed complexion. She wrinkled her nose as she spoke and he immediately found this extremely endearing. He had never been with a woman who could carry off a sari so elegantly or someone who could challenge him with such clarity.
‘Employ more police?’ Harshvardhan found himself engaging in a thoughtful discussion with this charming young woman. ‘That will need more funds and further talk.’
‘No,’ Ayesha said, surprising him and herself, too. But she continued, ‘You need to have well-lit areas in every metro and train station in your district. Even within the compartments. Tube lights at every corner and maybe even CCTV cameras. Safety for women on public transport. Autos that will go after dark for a woman passenger, no matter how short the distance is or else they will be hauled to jail. Emergency phones that if picked up, call the police station immediately, at strategic points near bus stops. There needs to be a fear that people can’t get away with the rape and assault or harassment of women. The judiciary can’t do that much. They need to know that they can get caught!’
Harshvardhan nodded. ‘So if I start with the metros in urban areas beginning with Delhi, besides well-lit areas, maybe I can enforce a separate metro for women late in the nights where there will be cameras in every bogey so they can feel safe.’
‘Yes, maybe.’
He walked grandly towards the door, ‘I’ll need to get a few more ministers involved with this. Great. So can we go now so that I can give this speech?’
‘What about the speech that you were making?’
‘I’ll figure it out,’ he said with a smile. He was known for his great extempore speeches and his ability to charm a crowd. He had completely floored Ayesha with his magnetic personality and humility.
He gestured for her to leave his office. He stopped her for a moment as she passed him and she could feel his breath upon her face as he spoke softly, ‘Thank you. Thank you…’ He waited for her to say her name and with a mere whisper she replied, ‘Ayesha.’ Later she would find out that he already knew her name.
‘Thank you, Ayesha.’ He smelt like a combination of fresh cologne and Ariel detergent.
‘You have a beautiful house,’ she said with a smile.
‘Thank you. Someday I hope to show you the rest of it,’ and he meant it. This was an association that he knew would not end that night.
As they walked outside, bodyguards immediately surrounded Harshvardhan as Ayesha walked in another direction to find Varun. She stopped suddenly and realized that she hadn’t even told the politician who her husband was. How would he know? Harshvardhan spent a few minutes in a corner speaking on his mobile phone. She noticed how he seemed enthusiastic with her idea and was nodding his head patiently as he heard the person on the
phone.
Soon enough, an emcee announced that Harshvardhan was now going to give his speech. Ayesha looked around and saw that there was a small stage at the front of the lawn which had just lit up with diyas. She saw Harshvardhan ascend the stage in a stately manner. He greeted the crowd, ‘Namaste.’
He began his speech. ‘Thank you everyone for joining me on this wonderful evening. I hope you have enough drinks and food. I hope you’re happy and well looked after. I don’t have a wife but I’m sure that my boys will be more than willing to help all of you. I have spoken to many of you and am glad I’ve gotten to know you better.’
As he spoke, Ayesha noticed that he kept searching in the crowds for someone and she felt she needed to be in the light. She moved slightly towards a more prominent, sharper focus light coming from a lamp and he suddenly caught her eye before he continued.
‘As you know I am planning to make several changes for women. The first thing I want to start out with is safety.’
There was loud applause from several women in the audience and he seemed pleased that they approved of his idea.
‘I believe that all women are strong and independent and can make this nation great. They not only need freedom to do as they please, but also the support of the government to give them the safety to do so. And with this I propose a new scheme. A special metro train that will run at specific times only for women. It will have a special police force to keep the women safe even if they choose to travel late in the night to their destinations. Along with this we will install many more lights at the stations for them to walk freely. I will also ensure autos have a ‘call the police’ facility if the auto wala refuses to take a woman passenger after sunset. I want to assure you that these are just a few of my plans to keep all of you safe, to keep this city safe and to work towards a government that is for you,’ he paused and looked straight at Ayesha before he concluded his speech with a sentence, ‘Be safe. Be happy. I’m with you, for you, always.’ The crowd applauded as he bowed his head and said, ‘Please enjoy your evening. Dinner is served. I hope to meet more of you later this evening.’ And then he looked around and Ayesha knew that part was also directed at her.
Through the rest of the evening, Varun stuck next to her as they moved from one couple to another making polite conversation. They finished their dinner and Ayesha said she was feeling tired. They decided to leave. It had become quite cold and despite the Pashmina shawl that Ayesha wrapped around herself, the biting wind was giving her another headache.
As they were leaving they found the politician and Varun said politely as Ayesha stood a step away from him, ‘Thank you so much, Sir for having us. We truly had a wonderful time.’
Harshvardhan nodded his head. ‘Glad you could come.’ And then to Ayesha, ‘I hope you didn’t get too bored?’
Ayesha shook her head. ‘No. The whole evening was magical. You have wonderful plans.’
‘I got a little help with my idea,’ he said with a twinkle in his eye.
As Varun walked towards his car, she looked back towards the gate and saw Harshvardhan’s gaze linger on her a little more. Her heart skipped a beat and she wondered why. The man was almost a decade older than her and she was a married woman. Then why did she feel this peculiar attraction to this stranger? Maybe it was because for the first time in her life, a man of power had asked her for her opinion? A man who was learned and knowledgeable had taken her suggestion into consideration. Or maybe it was because of the way he looked at her that felt all wrong and yet so right.
11
‘Zor se bolo!’
‘Jai Mata Di!’
Ayesha looked around the room where there were women who were swaying to loud bhajans and singing with their eyes closed. She couldn’t believe she had let her mother-in-law drag her to another Mata Ki Chowki.
‘You have to do these things, Ayesha. Even if you’re an atheist, you need to do things for your in-laws,’ her mother had told her back when she had gotten married and refused to go for any religious function.
More than once she had argued with Varun, ‘I don’t believe in God. I believe in science. Why do I have to sit at these events? I don’t believe in them and they’re too loud.’
‘It’s not loud,’ Varun had replied. ‘It’s a calling to God. To Mata. It’s important to me.’
Ayesha had relented again and again, joining her husband and in-laws at religious gatherings. And again here she was, eleven years after getting married, still trying to please her in-laws, her own parents, and her husband. Everyone, it seemed, except herself.
‘Jai, Jai Santoshi Ma, Jai,’ Ayesha’s mother-in-law chanted with the crowd as she swayed to the music and covered her head with a beautiful, blue-with-zardozi-chiffon dupatta that matched her gawdy blue and gold salwar kameez. Ayesha covered her head with her pallu. She wore a lovely silk sari with a string of pearls.
Her in-laws had dropped in unannounced two days ago. They stayed in Ghaziabad. They came often and stayed with Ayesha and Varun to spend time with their grandson and meet their friends. Sometimes Ayesha’s mother-in-law, Suman Mathur’s, social life was so exhausting that she stayed an entire week or two before she went back to her own house. Ayesha was at the parlour when they had dropped in. They were furious that their bahu wasn’t at home and Varun had called to tell her to rush back immediately.
‘Mummyji, Papa, what a pleasant surprise!’ Ayesha exclaimed as she entered the door. ‘If you had told me, I would have stayed at home. I had to do some emergency grocery shopping. You know how the servants are, they can never pick the correct vegetables for Adi.’ Ayesha rattled off her words so her in-laws would not have a chance to scold her or complain.
See, marriage makes you smart. You learn to better understand the nuances of making your in-laws happy. One, you play the grandchild card: If anything that you did was for their grandchild’s benefit, they wouldn’t be as harsh on you as they normally were. With in-laws visiting, the equations always changed in the family. You no longer have a right to speak against your husband in front of them. You no longer have the free will to just leave things untidy or not bother about your children and the rules if you’re too tired. When the in-laws visit, a housewife always needs to be on her toes from morning to night to prove to her in-laws that they chose correctly for their son, who probably will not do any work around the house anyway while they praise him for being such a great son.
‘Where are you roaming about, bahu?’ her mother-in-law demanded an answer. ‘Why weren’t you looking after the house? And you don’t seem to be teaching Adi here any of our sanskriti! Where are this boy’s manners!’
Ayesha nudged Adi to his grandparents. The boy touched his grandmother’s feet and she pulled him up to a warm embrace. He was old enough to understand that he had nothing to speak to his grandparents about and he could sense they didn’t like his mother very much. It affected his relationship with them even though they bought him presents when they came and took him to eat at all the favourite junk food restaurants that were forbidden by his mother.
‘Mummyji, have you had lunch?’ Ayesha asked her mother-in-law. ‘There is some fresh food made in the morning. Bahadur would have laid out the table if you had asked him.’
Mrs Mathur looked at her disdainfully. ‘There was just chicken. Since when do you not keep any other vegetables or dal made for lunch? I’ve told Bahadur to make some aloo rassa, some bhindi ki sabzi and some fresh phulkas for us.’
Ayesha groaned inwardly. Varun and Adi wouldn’t eat any of the vegetables her in-laws had asked the servant to make who would grumble later to her about how his workload had increased. Their family always had some non-vegetarian dish for practically every meal and since she only ate one roti with whatever was made for the men in her life, they were used to eating only one dish.
‘Let me get the table ready then,’ Ayesha said as she walked to the kitchen to assist Bahadur. It was Savitri’s day off as well and she couldn’t believe her luck since her in-laws ha
d come on the one weekend that she had given her help some leave. She thought it was going to be an easy day, as Varun had gone to play golf and would be back only by six in the evening and would be so tired that he would go to bed as soon as he had some pakoras and chai.
It was an unsaid rule that daughters-in-law should always have to work hard when the in-laws came because their constant approval would mean a stable marriage with her husband.
‘This is a great lunch,’ her father-in-law said, as he finished his meal. ‘Make something fresh for dinner, Bahu. Now that we’ve eaten this, it can be given to the servants.’
‘And at least for the next three weeks that we are here, get fresh vegetables. None of the frozen packets that you keep serving Adi for his tifffin,’ Suman said, as she wrinkled her nose and gave herself a sterner look.
Ayesha knew that not only her wine, but non-vegetarian food too would be banned in her own household for three weeks. As it had always been every time her in-laws came to visit. This is going to be a long month ahead, she sighed to herself. It is their son’s house, she reminded herself; not mine. They had more of a right than she did, as they presumed.
‘Bahu!’ Ayesha’s mother-in-law was calling out. ‘Where are you? Bina aunty ko hello bolo.’ And Ayesha came out of her reverie to quickly saunter over to her.
‘Hello, Bina aunty.’
‘Kaisi ho beta? Yeh nayi sari hai? Aaj kal dikhai nehi deti ho.’
Ayesha’s mother-in-law piped in, ‘Haan beta you must go visit Bina aunty.’
‘Next week,’ Bina spoke with great gusto. ‘I am having a havan at home. You must come.’
‘Of course we’ll be there,’ Suman Mathur replied for both herself and Ayesha.
Ayesha smiled while secretly wishing she could run away from the entire episode.
She said, ‘Actually Aunty, we’re taking a vacation so we might not be here at that time.’
‘Oh where are you going?’ Bina asked, impressed that the Mathurs had money to travel.
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