Leo's Desire

by Sundari Venkatraman

  “Yeah, Nishaan. That’s the idea.” Excitement crept into Nalini’s voice as she realised that she had her son’s complete attention by now. He had changed a lot, her Nishaan, after the last stint away from home. He was more serious, way busier and had far less tolerance towards her. Nalini didn’t connect it to her falling apart when Aadarsh had taken ill. Nishaan had lost all patience with her when his mother insisted on behaving like an invalid, and demanded more attention than his father who had actually fallen ill.

  Nishaan frowned heavily. “Mom, this is the twenty-first century. No one has an arranged marriage, puh-lease.” He continued to eat his breakfast, checking mails on his phone, considering the matter closed.

  “Twenty-first or twenty-second, this is India, my son. Marriages will continue to be arranged. And as your mother, it’s my responsibility, especially with Aadarsh falling ill.”

  Nishaan scowled all the more. “Don’t bother your head too much about it, Mom. I don’t plan to get married for at least five more years.” Nishaan was absolutely clear that he wasn’t ready to give up his bachelor status, not at such a young age.

  “What?!” Nalini’s voice was a screech. “That’s crazy, Nishaan. When will you get married and when will Aadarsh and I hold our grandchildren in our arms? Both of us will be old in five years.”

  Nishaan pushed his plate away, thoroughly irritated. “Mom, are you saying I should have kids for your sake, even if I’m not ready for fatherhood? And why would you get old in five years? I’ve been telling you to join Pop when he’s doing his yoga and meditation. You just refuse to listen. And, before you ask again, please drop this idea of finding me a bride. I can look for one myself.”

  Nalini got up to stand, pushing her chair away noisily. “How dare you? How dare you speak to me so disrespectfully? I won’t tolerate your bringing just any woman from the roadside to live in my house as my daughter-in-law. I…”

  “Whatever’s wrong with you, Mom? Why do you presume so much? I refuse to get married, period. I’m sorry, Pop. Sorry that we’re arguing while you’re convalescing.” He turned back to his mother. “Right now, Mom, I’m busy with a new project at work and I really don’t have the time for marriage. So…”

  “So, who’s asking you to get married tomorrow? It’s a long process. Let me browse through suitable brides. Will line up a few and then you can check them out. I…”

  Nishaan controlled his urge to roar, the lion that he was. He couldn’t imagine any woman in his life other than Chaahat. But he dared not say anything to his mother or she might just insist on the two of them tying the knot immediately. No way! “I said ‘no’ and I mean it, Mom. Please drop the subject and go find something more useful to do. Do you want to come to the office? I can find some work for you to do.” He meant it. He felt being idle didn’t suit anyone, let alone his mother.

  “Go to hell!” Nalini turned away abruptly to leave the dining room, her shoulders stiff with pride.

  “Pop.” Nishaan went to stand next to Aadarsh, a hand on his shoulder. “I don’t want to get married so soon in my life, Pop. I have just got my teeth into our business. I still have a lot to learn, to establish, to prove myself. Now is not the time to take on the responsibility of a wife and kids. Do you understand me?”

  Aadarsh nodded. “You are right. And I think you should marry only when you are ready for it. It won’t be fair to your wife otherwise.”

  “Exactly.” Nishaan bent down to kiss his father’s forehead. “Come on now, Pop, finish your breakfast. I need to leave.”

  “You go on, Nishaan. I’ll manage.”

  “No, Pop. I’m going nowhere until you finish what’s on your plate.” Nishaan’s voice was gentle but firm. While Aadarsh had come a long way with his recovery, his appetite was still poor. And there was a kind of listlessness, a lack of interest in everything around him. While the doctor wasn’t too troubled about it, it had Nishaan worried.

  That’s when it suddenly struck him. Why not send his father to the Ayurvedic retreat? He remembered his talk with Dr. Sindhu Raheja, about the treatments on offer for various illnesses. He snapped his fingers. “Pop! Tell you what. I know of this treatment centre not far from Mumbai. It’s perfect for someone who’s recuperating. I have personally checked the facilities there. Would you like to go there along with Mom? It’d do you both a lot of good.”

  “Hmm.” There was a total lack of enthusiasm in Aadarsh’s reply. He missed going to work, but Rajat hadn’t pronounced him a hundred per cent fit. What he didn’t need was more free time or taking off for some luxury retreat. He was simply bored, doing nothing, especially after the kind of challenges he used to face at work. “I don’t want to go anywhere, Nishaan. I don’t think I’m really ill. It’s just that I’m unable to kick up the energy for anything nowadays.” He felt restless at home, especially with Nalini having become so paranoid about everything.

  Even she was upset with the changes that had come over her life. She had been a free bird, to come and go, as she pleased. Now, she felt guilty every time she had to leave Aadarsh back at home on his own. What she didn’t realise was that her husband would probably have been better off being left alone. Believing that it was her duty to care for him, Nalini cancelled kitty parties and underwent sacrifices to hold her husband’s hand, without even bothering to find out if he wanted his hand held.

  Aadarsh was used to leading an independent life. Now, he felt caught between sudden bouts of weakness and his wife’s morose expression.

  “Pop.” Nishaan touched his father’s shoulder again. “What’s upsetting you, Pop?”

  “Why?” Aadarsh looked up at his son before his eyes shifted as he gave a weak shrug. “Why, nothing.”

  Nishaan went on his knees beside his father’s chair. “Pop, this is Nishaan. You can tell me.”

  Aadarsh sighed deeply. “I’m missing going to office.”

  Nishaan thought on his feet and got up immediately. “Right. Tell you what? Let’s go to work, both of us. You come along with me.”

  A fire lit up at the back of Aadarsh’s honey gold eyes that were so like his son’s. “Do you mean that? Please don’t joke about it, Nishaan. I don’t think it’s funny.”

  Nishaan shook his head, a sober expression on his face. “I’ve never been more serious in my life, Pop.”

  Aadarsh sprang from his chair, with an energy that had been missing since he fell ill five and a half months ago. His recovery hadn’t been as speedy as Dr. Singhania had expected. Just now, he looked down at the shorts and t-shirt that he was wearing. “I need to change.” He grimaced. Most of his work clothes were still in the master bedroom on the first floor, while he and Nalini had shifted into one of the guest bedrooms on the ground floor.

  “No issues. I’ll get you some formal clothes. I’m sure you’ll prefer to wear those,” Nishaan offered.

  Aadarsh nodded his head vigorously. “Can you do that, son?” There was an eagerness in his voice after a long time, the first since Nishaan had returned home.

  Nishaan smiled. “Of course, I can Pop. Just one condition though.”

  Aadarsh sighed, still smiling. “Now why did I ever believe it was going to be easy?”

  Nishaan laughed. “Exactly. So, it’s like this. You get to go if you finish that paratha on your plate. Unless, of course, you’d rather have a fresh one. Sagar chacha.” He raised his voice to call the cook. “Please could you bring a hot paratha for Pop?”

  Aadarsh nodded his head slowly. “I think I can eat a whole paratha. I suddenly feel hungry.” His son realised that the reason for his father’s non-recovery was his staying away from his favourite pastime—running his construction company. “Dayanand, madam ko bulao.” Aadarsh’s voice was already stronger as he gave a firm order to the man-servant.

  Nishaan gave his father a wide grin and a thumbs-up before taking the stairs two at a time. He was down within a couple of minutes, carrying a choice of two pairs of suits and half a dozen shirts and ties. Just as he was walking tow
ards his parents’ bedroom on the ground floor, his mother stepped out.

  “What’s going on, Aadarsh? What’s the excitement all about?” Her voice was harsh as she was still angry with her son. She refused to even look in his direction just now as he crossed her on his way into their room.

  “I’m going to the office.” Aadarsh sounded like a kid getting ready for a day’s picnic at the beachside.

  “Are you mad?” Nalini hissed. “Only I know the difficult time I’ve had taking care of you, working so hard at getting you back on your feet. How can you even think of going to work when you aren’t fully recovered? Has anyone asked Rajat? Don’t listen to your son. Nishaan has become too big for his boots and has no love or respect for his old parents. He…”

  Aadarsh raised his hand to stop her midway. “Enough, Nalini. I’ve had enough of sitting back and twiddling my thumbs. If going to work is going to make me die a couple of years sooner, then so be it. I’ll at least die happily.”

  Nalini pressed her hands one over the other against her mouth, shaking her head, tears streaming down her eyes. “How can you say that?”

  Aadarsh got up from the dining chair, wiping his hands on a cloth napkin, having finished the paratha as instructed by his son. “I can, because it was I who had been to death’s door. Now cut out the drama and go back to your kitty parties. I’m sure your friends would welcome you with open arms.” He didn’t mean to be rude to his wife. It’s just that he was fed up of having her hovering around him, playing Florence Nightingale, with a permanent expression of a sacrificial lamb on her face, as if she had given up all the joys of her life in exchange for serving her husband. It had been killing him actually.

  “Did you hear yourself? No wonder Nishaan speaks the way he does nowadays, with no respect at all. You both have changed, too much for the worse.” Aadarsh ignored Nalini’s yelling as he walked briskly towards his bedroom, eager to change into formal clothes and get on with his life.

  When Nalini called to complain to the family doctor, Rajat simply told her, “Maybe it’s for the best, Nalini. Aadarsh hasn’t been himself since his heart attack. He’s probably missing work. He may improve faster once he gets back to his routine.”

  Nalini wanted to hit the phone against the wall, refraining herself with great difficulty. She would show both father and son. She’d show them that she didn’t give a damn. She speed-dialled Rekha’s phone to tell her that she would join them at Mosaic, a restaurant at Country Inn and Suites by Carlson in Saket, for lunch. Why should she give up living just because her husband was ill? He wasn’t a kid anyway. He could very well take care of himself. She got ready and left within the next fifteen minutes.

  Aadarsh got a rousing welcome when he walked into his office on the third floor of the large bungalow not too far away from their home. Nishaan had had an elevator built, for his father’s use. Waving to everyone and nodding his head to their greetings and best wishes, Aadarsh walked into the company president’s cabin. “Huh!” He looked around, surprised. “What have you done, Nishaan?”

  “I knocked both our cabins together to make it one, Pop. I’d rather be around you. I hope you don’t mind.”

  Aadarsh turned to look at his son, affection in his eyes. “I know where you come from. I’m okay with the arrangement. But hold this thought: I don’t plan to be sick, ever again in my life. I’m done with that phase of my life.”

  “Aww, Pop.” Nishaan hugged his father, kissing him on his cheek. “I’m proud of you.”

  To begin with, Aadarsh spent a couple of hours each day at the office. This soon increased to six hours in the third week. Rajat Singhania was absolutely happy with his patient’s—ex-patient, insisted both Aadarsh and Nishaan—progress nowadays.

  Nishaan made his peace with his mother, after making it clear to her that the subject of his marriage was taboo.

  Not that it stopped his mother from doing exactly what she wanted, only she had decided to change her tactics this time round.

  17

  Nishaan let himself into Chaahat’s studio apartment at seven on Friday evening, leaving his luggage, along with the gift he had bought her, near the bed. Pulling off the formal suit that he was wearing, he walked into the bathroom to have a shower. He was going to meet her directly at Trilogy, the night club at Hotel Sea Princess in Juhu. She would be reaching there after a magazine shoot that was taking place at a Versova studio. He shaved before applying cologne, brushing back his longish hair, and stepped out of the bathroom.

  He dressed quickly, in elegant casuals, before leaving the flat and taking a cab to Juhu. He walked into the club, checking it out from his superior height, spotting Chaahat immediately. She was at the bar, chatting with some people as she sipped from a glass of lemonade. Having never been fond of hard drinks, his Chaahat insisted on being a teetotaller.

  With a smile on his face, Nishaan walked over to the bar, making his way through the crowd, before slipping an arm around Chaahat, and brushing his lips against a silky cheek. “Hey, babe. Good to see you.”

  “Shaan!” Chaahat squealed, jumping from the barstool and into his arms, pressing her lips to his. “I’ve missed you.” It had been a couple of weeks since they had last met.

  “And I, you.” He returned her kiss with equal fervour.

  “Meet my friends, Sheetal and Akbar. They also work with Amber. Hey guys, this is Nishaan, my boyfriend.”

  Nishaan shook hands with both of them, making small talk, though his eyes kept going back to Chaahat. She looked delicious, clothed in a soft shade of lemon yellow that made her skin glow. Noodle straps held the short dress in place as it fit snugly over the top of her body, before falling down to mid-thigh, flaring from her waist downwards. “I like what you’re wearing,” he told her in her ear, after placing an order for a whiskey on the rocks.

  “Only that? You don’t like the woman within?” She pouted at him, fluttering her eyelashes ridiculously.

  “Hmm…let me think.” A finger on his chin, he let his gaze sweep slowly from the top of her sleek and shining head to the tips of her dainty feet encased in open-toed leather sandals of the same shade as her dress, the psychedelic lights making her appear mysterious. He touched a hand to her ear, playing with the long earring. “Cute.”

  Chaahat pouted some more. “Dance with me?”

  They moved to the crowded dance floor and danced for the next couple of hours, only going back to their table to sip on their drinks from time to time.

  “Do you wanna have dinner?” Nishaan asked in her ear, the sound of music too loud by now to let them hear each other.

  Chaahat nodded, going back to pick up her clutch while he paid the bill. They left to go to Jeon, a restaurant in the same hotel. It was on the verge of closing when Nishaan persuaded them to take their order.

  “That was fun,” declared Chaahat, sliding into a sofa.

  “It was,” said Nishaan, sliding in right next to her before taking her hand to press his lips to the palm. “Though just now, the silence seems so peaceful.”

  She grinned. “I know. So how was your day?” She pulled his hand closer to suck on his thumb.

  “I’m not sure how to answer that. My brain’s stopped functioning as all the blood has gone south.”

  She giggled, biting the pad of his thumb before shifting her attention to his forefinger.

  “You don’t want to continue doing that. I might forget that we’re in a public place,” he said warningly.

  “Maybe that’s what I’m trying to do, make you forget where we are.”

  He pulled his hand out of hers before sliding his arm around her waist, pulling her close against his side. “You are off to Italy and Greece by the end of the month. Is that pucca?”

  “Yep.”

  “I’m planning to go with you.”

  “Shaan!” Chaahat squealed delightedly. “That’d be so awesome. We’re leaving on the twentieth.”

  “I can’t get away that early. I’ll leave on the twenty-third and j
oin you in Greece. Will you be able to take a few days break after the shoot? We can spend time together. What say?”

  “Hmm…” Mischief shone from Chaahat’s eyes. “Let me check my calendar and get back to you.”

  “Calendar, my ass,” growled the lion, taking a bite of her shoulder.

  “Shaan…you keep doing that and I’m going to have my way with you right here on the restaurant sofa.”

  “Is that a promise?” He bit her again.

  Just then, a waiter cleared his throat, having arrived with their order. He placed the dishes on the table and asked politely, “May I serve the meal, sir, madam?”

  “Thank you, we’ll manage.”