Ash gripped the steering wheel hard. “What have you done to her, you bastard? If you lay so much as a finger on her I’ll make sure you go to hell.”
“Wow, Lover Boy, well done. That’s all I needed to hear from you.”
The call disconnected. A blast of car horns behind him indicated the lights had turned green. Shifting gears he drove as fast as the peak-hour traffic would allow him, to get to the tony part of Mumbai—Altamount Road.
Fear gutted his insides and his palms began to sweat. He wondered how Raghav had tracked down Rakshanda after all these years. The man was pure evil. Even though he was Raks’ only living relative—and a blood brother at that—he feared for his friend’s safety. Why did he have Raks’ phone? And what had he done to her?
Raghav was a nasty character with a criminal record that was a mile long. He had managed to evade the police until four years ago, when he had nearly beaten his sister to death. Her only fault was she had had enough of his bullying and refused to shell out money for his nefarious activities. The man, who was always on a short fuse, had viciously attacked his sister and left her to die. Luckily for Raks, Ash had been in the neighbourhood and had dropped in for a surprise visit only to find Raks literally bleeding to death. He had rushed her to hospital and it had been touch and go. Several of her ribs had been broken, and her face had been mangled badly. She had lost an enormous amount of blood and it had taken weeks for her to recover from her injuries. Ash had filed a police complaint and Raghav, who had dropped his guard, was caught by the cops.
In the meantime, Raks had changed houses and made a new life for herself. She had had to undergo several counselling sessions to get over her trauma and overcome her fears. But she had pulled through—but now that the man was out of prison, the nightmare would begin all over again. He had tracked her down and Ash feared for her safety. Pulling into the compound of the building where Rakshanda lived, Ash dashed out of the car and headed straight for her penthouse apartment.
The door was wide open. There was no one in sight. He could hear the music system playing a classic Bollywood number – one of those soul stirring songs from Guru Dutt’s movies. The rustle of breeze sent the wind chimes tinkling.
“Rakshanda,” he called out.
And then he heard the soft whimpering sounds. He dashed in, without thinking, his only concern for his friend. The living room looked as elegant as ever. In the plush leather sofa, she lay there in a fetal position; her hands and feet tied with rope, her mouth covered with scotch tape and one of her eyes had turned a ghastly shade of black and blue.
He rushed to her and untied her hands and feet and pulled the scotch tape away from her mouth. She fell into his arms sobbing hysterically. “He’s back, Ash.”
“Where’s he?” Ash whispered as he rocked her in his arms.
“I don’t know. He will be back any time now. He was angry because I didn’t have any Scotch. ”
Ash looked at the bar and right enough, three empty bottles of beer were lying on the floor.
“But how did you know…?” Raks asked him.
“He called me from your phone. Come on, we have to get out from here before he is back.”
“No, if he doesn’t find me here, there will be hell to pay. He knows where you live and—”
“So what do you intend to do? Stay here and let him beat you to pulp?”
“How long can I keep running from him? He will find me sooner or later.”
“Come on, Raks. You’re not thinking clearly.”
He put his arm around her and half dragged, half carried her to the door. She put on a pair of sandals while Ash grabbed her purse and the keys to the flat that were lying on the dining table. He thrust them at her and she clutched at his hand for support.
“I’m feeling ill, Ash.”
She swayed on her feet for a couple of seconds. Before she could crash to the floor in a dead faint, Ash caught her.
The kitchen was full of enticing aromas, just like it used to be when her mother made kokum kadi. The curry simmered in a pot while Sanjana chopped up some coriander and chillies. The whole process of dicing vegetables, grinding spices and preparing a wholesome and tasty meal never failed to calm her down. It took her back to her childhood days when she would watch her mother at the stove as she shared their family culinary traditions with eleven year old Sanjana.
After Aai passed away, she would surprise the rest of her family by cooking the same dishes she had watched her prepare. Gauri and Meghna would say their curries didn’t have that special “Aai touch” that hers did. It made her proud and it also made her miss Aai. She wondered if she was around today, would she tell her about Chetan’s betrayal? Would she have a heart to heart talk with her about her messy feelings for Ash? How would she react? What would she say? She had known Aai for only eleven years of her life but she remembered her kind compassion filled eyes. She remembered how she worried about Pappaji’s blood pressure issues and would often admonish Meghna for adding to his stress with her teenage tantrums.
Would she have plucked courage and told Aai about the life-altering kiss she had shared with Ash this evening? The memory of Ash’s kiss was still playing havoc in her head. She had never responded to Chetan in quite the same way even when they had first started dating. The manner in which he would grope her breasts while kissing her had repelled her. She had gritted her teeth and endured it, but when he tried to get more intimate, she would make some excuse or other. While he didn’t try to force himself on her, he would be a complete grouch. He had once even suggested that she consult with a doctor since the idea of making out repelled her so much. She had come to think that perhaps she was one of those for whom sex would never be pleasurable.
That’s why her wanton-like behaviour with Ash shocked her. She had virtually thrown herself at him, demanding to be kissed and caressed. The mere thought of his hard body against hers was enough to make her skin tingle.
The smell of burning rice made her snap back to the job at hand. Grabbing a tea cloth she attended to the rice before it turned lumpy and was charred brown. Cooking as an antidote to Ash’s kiss was definitely not working today! Luckily, she had managed to rescue the rice before the damage was done.
The latchkey turned and Pinky breezed in. Dumping her purse on the sofa, she headed straight for the kitchen.
“Wow, something smells divine. What’s cooking, Roomie?”
“Just making some comfort food… haven’t had kokum kadi in ages. Why don’t you freshen up?”
“Yummy! I hope you have made it hot and spicy.”
She waltzed off to take a shower and left Sanjana dreaming of a hot-and-spicy Ash!
Damn! She was fast becoming a basket case.
“So, what are we celebrating?” Pinky asked, a few minutes later. She piled her plate with rice and big dollops of kokum kadi.
Sanjana tried to distract Pinky by regaling her about Jeroobai’s antics but it only worked for a while.
“You are not telling me something.” She licked her fingers with relish as she polished off yet another helping of the curry. “Something to do with Ash, I think.”
Pinky’s comment nearly made her drop the spoon.
Her friend’s eyebrows shot up and her face broke into a devilish grin.
“What are you grinning about?”
“Come on, Sanjana, fess up. He kissed you, didn’t he?”
She looked at her goggle eyed wondering if there was a neon sign flashing on her forehead with the words: “Kissed by Ash!”
Pinky burst into laughter. “You have that kiss-ass look on your face.”
“Kiss-ass?”
“Cool, isn’t it? The kiss that kicks ass of all previous kisses.”
More like Kiss-Ash! Sanjana dug into her food even as she turned a beetroot red at the thought that had popped into her brain.
“You really are going nuts!” Her protest sounded lame to her own ears and she knew Pinky wouldn’t let her get away with it.
She finished her foo
d as fast as she could and escaped to the kitchen. “Pinky, please be a sweetie and clean the dishes. Family-time Skype call coming up.”
“Sure thing. After that awesome kokum kadi, I will be your slave for the rest of the week! But only on one condition.”
“Condition?”
“Yeah, at some point I want to hear every teeny-weeny detail of what happened between you and Ash!”
“No deal. I made you kokum kadi. And that’s payment enough.”
Sanjana ran into her room and heard Pinky wail, “You’re a meanie!”
She was still smiling from ear to ear at Pinky’s antics when she logged into Skype on her laptop.
Meghna was already waiting for her. “Hey…so someone’s all smiles today.”
“Hey Meghna… I’m sorry I yelled at you the last time we talked.”
“Phew! Thank heavens. I was a bit worried that the girl I spoke to last time may have kidnapped my sweet little sister.”
Sanjana rolled her eyes. “Yeah, okay. S.O.R.R.Y. Where’s Pappaji and Gauri? I needed to talk to you all about something—”
“Well, in that case you’ll just have to tell me and I’ll relay it to them. Pappaji has not been keeping too well, so he’s gone off to bed early. And Gauri is out painting the town red with Milind.”
Sanjana’s brow creased in a frown. “Pappaji is unwell? What happened?”
She heard her Pappaji’s voice before she saw him on her computer screen, “Arrey, you know how Meghna makes a big fuss about the littlest of things. Blood pressure was not under control. That’s all.”
“It was not so little, Pappaji. You’d to be kept under observation at the hospital for two days.”
“Good God!” Sanjana nearly shot out of her chair in agitation.
“It’s all okay now. Don’t worry, Sanju. I just need to put my feet up and rest. And no tension! That’s what the doctor said. Believe me, these doctors have no idea of how blessed I am. With three daughters to take care of me, why should I have any tension at all?”
Sanjana had to swallow the little lump in her throat before she could speak up. “Pappaji, you better listen to Meghna, okay?”
“Yes, yes! Now stop fussing. I like what you all are planning…a Diwali get-together. I’m going to rest up and when we meet, I’ll be fit as a fiddle. I was just telling Meghna that I’m already feeling much better knowing that Chetan and you have—”
Meghna’s gasp alerted him and he stopped mid-sentence. “Oh dear, have I spilled the beans?”
“What about Chetan and me?” Sanjana’s heart plunged into her stomach. This did not sound good.
Pappaji gave Meghna an apologetic look and said, “Ah, I’m just getting old. Meghna and Gauri were planning this big surprise and I have gone and spoilt it.”
“Surprise? What do you mean, Pappaji?”
Meghna pitched in and gave her a wink. “Come on, little Sis. Don’t be such a spoilsport.”
Sanjana knew the ‘surprise’ involved Chetan…Pappaji had let that slip through. And she had a fairly good idea of what it was likely to be. Her ex was trying to wheedle his way back into her life and had decided to do the slimy thing by roping in Pappaji and her sisters. She wished she could simply tell them that she was done with Chetan. But how could she with Pappaji looking so frail and stressed out. This was a discussion that could wait…for now!
Chapter Eight
The man who had disrupted her sleep pattern and was a constant presence in her dream world seemed to have disappeared from the real one. She knew she should be happy for the reprieve but instead she was driving herself into a tizzy wondering if Ash feared he would be attacked by a neighbour with a kissing disease. Ugh!
Leaving for office, earlier than usual, she spied his car still parked in its usual spot and her turmoil got even more intense. He definitely was avoiding her!
Determined to start the day on a positive note, she decided to focus on sorting out the Jeroobai Wadia situation and vowed not to waste even a nano-second of her time thinking about stupid kisses and the infuriating Kisser. All through her commute to office she had a mental battle going on and ended up exhausted by the time she was at work. So much for starting the day on a positive note!
The intercom on her desk buzzed.
“Please come into my cabin asap,” snapped Sunrita.
Sunrita’s command was like a spray of ice-cold water on her heated thoughts. She was furious with Sanjana for “mishandling” the client. “Do you realize we’re this close to losing a prestigious project?”
Sanjana tried desperately to come up with a reply that would pacify her angry supervisor but failed. After she had finished labelling her an inefficient, incompetent dolt—or words to that effect—Sunrita gave her an ultimatum that shook the ground she stood on.
“If you don’t sort out this mess, you might just end up as the intern with the shortest stint in the history of our organization.”
She shot out of the cabin and retreated to her desk. As her supervisor, Sunrita could wreck her career even before it took off. A bad report would be the end of her ambition to apply to a foreign university. On the verge of tears, she shut her eyes and took a few deep breaths. She had to stay calm and figure out a way of untangling herself from this mess. Going to Sunrita for help would only lead to more humiliation and ridicule. Ash might be able to help but did she really want to complicate matters more by involving him? She wasn’t quite sure where she stood with him and now was not the right time to go down that path. There was only one way to tackle it—no matter how scary the proposition, she would have to go to the client herself and figure out a way of working with her.
Picking up her files and laptop, she headed out of the office. By the time she arrived at the client’s house, she was a bundle of nerves. What if Jeroobai refused to deal with her? Brushing her sweaty palms on the sides of her jeans, she took a calming breath and clanged the knocker on the gates. Every second she waited felt like an hour and she squashed the overwhelming urge to turn tail and run. Finally, after an interminably long wait, Pestonji shuffled up to the gate.
“Madam has a headache,” he announced grumpily. “She is sleeping.”
Well, she had tried and now she could leave. But she was sure that Sunrita wasn’t going to award her a medal for her brave attempt.
Watching Pestonji disappear down the driveway towards the house, she called out, “Pestonji, I will wait.”
He looked at her as if ready to walk away. To her surprise, though, he returned to open the gates for her. “As you wish. But you may have to wait for a long time.”
The time to flee had passed. Pestonji escorted her to a small ante-room next to the large hall Ash and she had been in during their last visit.
She cleared her throat and said, “Pestonji, can I go through the papers that Madam had shown us the last time?”
“You’ll have to wait till she gets up.”
He was nearly at the door when she said, “Pestonji, you must have been with Madam for a long time, no?”
He turned around reluctantly and said, “Fifty five years and with Bawaji—Madam’s father—for twenty years.”
“Wow, so you were a little boy when you came to live here?”
He nodded. “I was an orphan and Bawaji took me in. I have lived here ever since.”
“What was this place like when you first came?”
For a moment, a smile creased his wrinkled face and his old, brooding eyes sparkled. “The grandest house I had ever seen.”
“Can you tell me about it? Whatever you remember?”
He gave her a dismissive glance. “I don’t have the time to sit and gab with you.”
She pleaded, “You can talk to me while you complete your tasks. Believe me, it will help me a lot in my work.”
He looked at her as if she had suggested a trip to the moon. “I’m only a servant. How can I help you with your work?”
“You can describe the place as you remember it. It would bring it to life for
me—to see it through the eyes of someone who has lived in this house for seventy five years and knows it inside out. The things you love about it, the memories it holds for you, the little details that are special to you. That will help me enormously.”
Behind her someone coughed and she whipped around. Jeroobai stood there, wearing a baggy shirt like garment over a floral print skirt. Her silver hair was tied in an untidy knot and looked like a white halo around her head.
Sanjana gulped nervously. The moment of reckoning was here. She waited for Jeroobai to throw her out of the house.
“Now that’s the first sensible thing I have heard from any member of your team.”
Sanjana felt the weight lifting from her shoulders as Jeroobai announced, “Pestonji, make us all some strong masala chai and sandwiches and bring some for yourself too. We have a lot of stories to tell this young lady.”
It had been an exhausting twenty some hours since Ash had found Rakshanda all bruised and battered in her apartment. He had rushed her to a nursing home and had waited till the doctor assured him her condition was stable. He had then filed a report at the local police station informing them about the assault.
The security guard who had been on duty also gave a description of Raghav to the police. The guard told them that he’d refused to sign the visitor’s log book and had been very angry when he insisted. Fearing he would be beaten up, he’d let him visit Rakshanda.
After a long wait at the police station, an officer had accompanied him to the nursing home to take a statement from Rakshanda. However, since she was sedated, the police officer had left and had told Ash to inform him as soon as she was coherent enough to answer some questions.
Finally, Ash had come home to an over-exuberant Dumbass greeting him like a soldier returning from war. At some point during his ordeal, he had remembered to call Sonu, the domestic help who had a spare key to his apartment. Sonu would have walked and fed Dumbass but of course that wouldn’t earn him any brownie points with the mutt. He barely managed to peel off his shirt and shoes and collapsed into the bed. Dumbass took his lead and jumped up beside him, curling up against his legs.
Bombay Heights- Sleepless in the City of Dreams Page 7
