Ex Factor

by Varsha Dixit

  “All work and no play. . .”

  Doyal swung her head. Puru was seated across the aisle from her. “Where’s your brother?” she panicked.

  “Behind you, Doyal.” Ojas’s voice floated above her head. “I’m going to get some sleep.”

  Doyal inhaled deeply, silently rebuking herself. Gosh! Calm down, ninny. Her smile was wry and her eyes clashed with Puru. He was watching her, amused. Asshole!

  Doyal’s smile was cold as she put on the seat belt. “Relish the first class on your brother’s indulgence.” She purred.

  Puru’s eyes widened briefly and then he gave her the sunniest of smiles. “I will. And seated next to you, must be my lucky day!”

  His smile riled Doyal but she did not show it. “I have work to do. Enjoy the free food and drinks.”

  Puru leaned over his armrest. “What are you working on?”

  His clean smell swarmed Doyal. Puru smelled of mountains and outdoors. For a second, she was reminded of her hometown in Arunachal. A brief pang of something sad flickered in her. It had been a while since she had gone home. Doyal focused back on the man who was still staring at her. “What I do might be too complicated for someone like you.” She dismissed Puru and reached for her laptop.

  Puru put his head back and laughed. His laugh was full of genuine mirth. “Oh, you are funny!” He then leaned over the aisle, bringing his face closer and gave her a smile that made Doyal’s eye dip to his mouth. “Try me!” he said in a soft tone.

  Doyal felt a strange sensation in her stomach as she quickly busied herself with her gadgets. “Don’t waste your time or mine. I have a boyfriend.”

  Puru gave exaggerated slow claps. “For your boyfriend!”

  Doyal opened her laptop but she had to have the last word. “Compared to men like you, he deserves a standing ovation.”

  “So, you have me already figured out? Darn it! I need some more time with you.” Puru said, showing his pearly whites.

  Doyal snorted and continued to peruse her emails.

  “Let me see if I have you figured!” Puru said.

  Doyal stayed focused on the email she was typing.

  “You are from a small town or city, middle class family,” Doyal’s fingers stilled over the keyboard. Puru continued, “An older sibling, responsible kinds, over achiever in studies, not the trusting types. An A type—”

  Doyal cut him off. “Can you not see that I’m trying to work here?” She kept her voice controlled, trying not to show how much he had rattled her. Puru had got everything right about her except one detail. She wasn’t from a middle-class family. Her family had been poor, very poor. Thanks to her seven-figure paycheck, Doyal had finally been able to do things to improve her family’s economic conditions. She had moved her family to a bigger house in a good part of the town, given her younger sister the dream wedding she wanted, and paid for good education for her other siblings. But Doyal never forgot her roots or the shame poverty brought along with it.

  Puru cocked his head to the side, all amusement gone from his face. “I have upset you.”

  Doyal shook her head. “You tried! Now seriously, leave me alone.”

  “It must be hard.” Puru said ambiguously.

  Doyal waited but he did not finish. Something in her had to know what he was alluding to. “What?” Doyal looked at him with barely concealed impatience.

  Puru leaned across the aisle, crossing him arms and giving her a closer look. He lowered his voice like he was telling her a secret. “It must be hard for someone pretty like you to find some lone time.”

  “Yeah, especially around idiots!”

  Puru chuckled and then moved back as the breakfast service started. “Good! I like you fighting.”

  His smooth voice grated on Doyal’s ear. As he reached out for an airline magazine, Doyal studied him from under her lashes. His arms were bronzed and muscled. One could make out his wide shoulders even under the loose T-Shirt he wore.

  Puru came across like someone who would be completely at ease in the first class of some airline or in an overflowing bus with people and cattle on some obscure village road. In no time, he was making the airhostesses laugh and making conversation with some rich looking uncle behind him.

  Doyal eyed the in-flight magazine lying on the console next to her. She was tempted to roll it up and hit Puru on the head, all the while saying, “Quiet boy, quiet!” The visual caused Doyal to break into a smile.

  “Now that is a pretty smile!”

  Doyal glanced at Puru. He too was smiling but there was a new expression in his eyes. Like he was really looking at Doyal, only looking at her, a man wholly admiring a woman. Something sparked in her. Trying to hide the fact that Puru was unnerving her, Doyal purposely took some time in looking away, prolonging their eye-lock. The spark grew stronger inside, creating an odd weak sensation in her body.

  Doyal stared at her open laptop with unseeing eyes. It took a few minutes for her to place her fingers back on the keyboard. Unknown to her, a slight flush sat on Doyal’s cheeks and her lips were unconsciously parted.

  Puru watched the beautiful woman seated across from him. She has no idea how stunning she is! Doyal had gorgeous thick inky-black hair parted in the middle, that fell straight down to her waist. The kind he longed to run his fingers through. It will be pure silk to touch. Her face was heart shaped with almond shaped dark eyes, high cheekbones, and a perfectly bow shaped lips that were glistening. Her skin was creamy with not a single blemish or mark. It must be so soft to touch! Her eyes had a perpetual cynical look yet sparkled with intelligence.

  Doyal did not remember Puru from a few years earlier but he did. That night was clearly etched in his mind, the first time he had seen Doyal clad in a simple cotton night suit, standing close to Gina outside their hostel gate. The night Ojas had saved Gina and Doyal’s hostel mate from a few molesters.

  That night, Puru’s ex-girlfriend had been drunk and behaved obnoxiously with Doyal because of the latter’s northeastern descent. The meeting had lasted just for a few minutes yet Doyal Barua had stayed in Puru’s memories for years. Last month, when Doyal had dropped in unannounced at his parent’s house demanding Ojas’s address, Puru had no trouble recalling her. It was like he had never forgotten her. But she had no recollection of him.

  Puru, who thought of himself as an extremely chilled out guy, had reacted to Doyal’s acerbic taunts with an irritation he did not know he possessed. The petite five-foot-something Doyal, who barely came up to his shoulders even in her heels, had crawled under his skin within seconds.

  Last night, when Ojas had called and asked Puru to join him, Puru had said ‘yes’ in seconds. Ojas needed him and he had a chance to spend time with Doyal! Puru’s gaze was again drawn to Doyal’s face. She was focused on whatever she was working on, giving him time to watch her, his eyes glazed. Puru felt unbridled lust stir in his body. The fact that Doyal hated him did nothing to dampen his want.

  Puru’s remembered Doyal had mentioned that she had a boyfriend. The lucky jerk! Puru, turned his head away and looked out of the airplane window. He could not forget the tiny moment when he had felt that Doyal too wanted him—the way her eyes had dilated, her cheeks had lightly flushed, and her lips parted like she was awaiting his kiss. Puru groaned under his breath. He cast a glance at his brother. Ojas appeared to be sleeping in his seat. Puru opened the blanket the airlines had provided and covered himself with it, from waist down. And if that wasn’t enough, he took the tiny pillow provided along with the blanket and placed it over his crotch.

  Just then, Doyal got up and took off her tailored dark jacket and hung it on the hook next to her seat. Puru was back to staring at her.

  He noticed how her silk blouse clung to her petite curves and how the dark trousers flattered her slim hips.

  A complete package! Brains with beauty!

  Puru pressed the pillow harder in his lap. Intelligent women turned him on. The kind one could discuss news with or do Sunday morning crosswords with.
Puru shifted in his seat, cursing softly. Now he was imagining Doyal in his rumpled bed wearing next to nothing, snuggled against him, reading the newspaper. And he wasn’t letting her read.

  Doyal caught Puru focusing on her. “What?”

  Puru shook his head. “Not a comfortable outfit for flying.” He pointed at the jacket hanging next to her.

  Doyal ran her eyes over his simple maroon T-shirt, the muscled calves visible under the blanket that was short for his length, and his feet in sneakers with laces untied on one of them. “You won’t get it. I dress for success.”

  “Next time when you are flying, dress for flying. You’ll be more comfortable.”

  Puru gave her a smile that other women might find endearing for it was full of gleaming eyes, humor, and boyish in charm but not Doyal.

  Doyal looked at him over his nose and said, “Please be quiet and let me work.”

  After that, Puru ignored her and went back to chatting the air hostesses, Ojas, and whoever was within talking distance of him.

  Doyal wasn’t able to work at the speed she usually did. Puru’s jokes or words kept distracting her. Both these brothers are bloody trouble, she thought while rewriting a sentence for the fifth time.

  Chapter 12

  Amritsar Airport

  “I’ll just be back!” Doyal took her stroller and walked in the direction of the ladies’ restroom.

  “Let me order a ride,” Puru said, sitting down next to Ojas who was already seated.

  “I already did. It is waiting outside.”

  “Thanks!” Pura replied as he watched Doyal till she walked into the restroom.

  “What is going on between you and Doyal?” Ojas asked.

  Puru pushed his hair back. “Nothing! What do you mean?”

  “You were making an ass of yourself and she was straight down ripping you a new one quicker than you could count.”

  “Shut up!” Puru’s mouth tightened.

  Even though Ojas was as stressed as he was ever going to be, Puru’s embarrassment put him in a better mood. “You need lessons on your flirting. Let me see if they have classes available near mom’s house.”

  “You are being an ass, big brother.” Puru tapped a foot against the floor.

  “Don’t be frivolous with Doyal. She is not that kind of a woman.”

  Puru gave Ojas an irritated look. “When have you known me to be frivolous with women?”

  Ojas nodded and sighed. “You are right. That is me!”

  “Stop being so self-piteous, Nancy!” Puru thumped Ojas’ knee. He used the nickname Ojas had coined for him when life had been normal.

  Ojas’s smile was self-depreciating and then he sobered. He cleared his throat. “Thank you for coming at such short notice.” He paused and avoided looking at Puru. “I haven’t done anything in the past few years to deserve your…your—”

  “That’s what brothers do. You would do the same for me,” Puru said, staring straight ahead. Both the Purohit men fell silent.

  Puru was the first to speak. “You seem like your old self. Someone I’m familiar with, so I had to come. Are you sure you and Gina aren’t—”

  “No!” Ojas’s voice was sharp. “She deserves the best and I’m far from that. Why is Doyal taking so long?” Ojas gently stretched his leg. He had stopped his leg exercises for the last few days because of which his ankle was killing him. How can Puru even think that this, in any way, means there is hope for me and Gina? I don’t deserve her. I only give pain! I couldn’t save my friend, I couldn’t save my marriage, and I couldn’t save my child. The last thought caused Ojas to close his eyes tightly as he grappled with the agony, the sense of loss that permeated every cell in him. If this very moment lighting was to strike and kill Ojas, he would be eternally grateful. Just need to right a few wrongs I have done and then I can decide my own punishment.

  “Are mom and dad okay?” Ojas’s words were spoken quietly.

  “You were the son they were proud of. You were the one who held us together, mediated between Dad and me. You were a listening ear to mom and you made Dad proud by being the best soldier. When you moved away, our family changed and not in the best way. Maybe now,” Puru turned to Ojas, “you can mend that too. Mom and Dad miss you a lot. Dad doesn’t say it but he is showing it, and Mom doesn’t ever stop saying it.”

  Ojas nodded. “I will talk to them. But you will have to step up like you have in the last few years. You were always the more sensible one. Even though I am older, you have a better way of handling things.”

  Puru jerked his head. “Are you on crack?”

  Ojas grimaced as his ankle throbbed painfully. “Shut up!”

  “Do you ever show it to a doctor?”

  Ojas leaned down and rubbed his ankle. “It’s fine!” Ojas sat up and tried turning his aching ankle to the right. He was rewarded with a fresh stab of pain in his entire leg. My leg is getting worse! Ojas’s had been ignoring his doctor’s repeated calls for a surgery or he could completely damage his foot and wheel chair would be the only option. “Promise me one thing Puru.”

  Puru turned sideways. Whatever Ojas was going to say would be serious, going by Ojas’s somber expression. “What?”

  “If I flake out there in front of Gina’s parents, you will tell them as it is. Plain unvarnished truth.”

  “Are you kidding me? Talk bad about you, in front of others? This is the moment I have been waiting for all my life.”

  Ojas raised his brow. “Moment you have been waiting for? Writing love songs nowadays, Nancy?”

  Puru chuckled and then sobered. “You’ll be fine. What you are doing is long overdue. It will make you feel better.”

  “I’m not doing this for me.”

  “You’ll still feel better.”

  The two brothers sat for a few moments in affable silence.

  “Promise me one more thing Nancy.” Ojas was the first to speak.

  “What?” Puru smirked, secretly pleased that Ojas was showing some of his older humor.

  “You will get a big bottle of scotch after this ordeal and let me get hammered.”

  “Did you forget my condition for coming here?” Puru asked, adjusting the fitness tracker on his wrist.

  “I haven’t. Is this rehab you are sending me to any good?” Ojas’s asked, his expression wry. Puru had only one condition for agreeing to act as Ojas’s wingman. A week after, Puru was admitting Ojas in a rehab. A month away from all temptations; a rigorous detox and time with councilors.

  “You can’t cure people like me.” Ojas sighed. I’m not going to any rehab. There is a quicker and more permanent solution!

  “Frankly speaking, I think all you need is a good knock on your head but that would be too easy.” Puru flashed his teeth at his older brother.

  “You know I can still pulverize you, walking stick and all!” Ojas smiled. You are good brother, Puru. Don’t think unkindly of me after… Ojas looked away and blinked his eyes rapidly.

  “Finally!” Puru said as he watched Doyal emerge from the bathroom. She had changed into a floral blouse and stonewashed jeans that clung to her body like second skin. It took effort on Puru’s part to draw his eyes away from the woman walking confidently toward them. “Ready, big brother? Showtime!”

  Ojas’s face paled and his tongue, suddenly, felt thick in his mouth. He doubted if he had any strength left in him to do the most basic functions, but he was resolute to go through with this. He wiped his face, took a deep breath, and stood up, his movements slow. “Let’s go!”

  ***

  Ojas, Puru, and Doyal stood outside a palatial three-story bungalow, pale pink in color with dark brown parapets. The gate was silver in color and a security guard sat on a bench under shade. The old security guard eyed them, his gaze wary and watchful. He was probably a man who valued his seat highly for he did not stand up and come toward the three strangers who were standing twelve or so feet from him.

  “That’s a huge house,” Puru said.

  Doyal no
dded as she played with the top button of her blouse. Her stomach felt queasy and for the first time, she doubted the plan. What if Gina’s parents are out of town? What if they don’t even let us in the house? She glanced at Ojas. What if her father owns a gun and knows how to use it?

  “House like this would probably be good for sixty or seventy crores in Delhi or in Bombay,” Puru said, in no rush to advance.

  “In Mumbai, probably even more than that,” Doyal replied.

  Ojas made an impatient sound in his throat. “If you both are done discussing real estate prices, maybe we can go inside for more important things.”

  Puru smiled, “Forgive us, if we both don’t share your enthusiasm for bullets!”

  Doyal’s eyes widened. Ojas gave him a pointed look. Puru realized that he misspoke. “I’m sorry, I did not mean it like that. Like literally being shot. I was talking figuratively.”

  Despite his nerves, Ojas turned to his brother, his expression resigned. “It’s okay. We know you were dropped on your head several times.” He leaned rather heavily on his walking stick and took determined steps toward the gate. “Let’s get this done.”

  The guard stood up as they approached him. The trio gave him their names and he disappeared behind the gates. The three did not have to wait for long.

  They were taken into a foyer. “Stop right there!” Satinder Bansal’s voice boomed loudly.

  Ojas, Doyal, and Puru paused where they were.

  Satinder emerged from the living room. Gina’s mother followed him.

  Ojas noticed that in the last few years, Satinder seemed to have aged twenty years. The older man’s back was slumped, his hair had turned completely white, and he seemed to have lost considerable weight.

  “Is Gina dead?” Satinder asked, his expression harsh.

  Doyal took a step. “No, no Uncle. Gina is fine. I don’t know if you remember me. Gina and I were roommates in college.”

  “We remember you just fine, Doyal. Gina and her Wallflowers.” Malti said, standing to the side behind her husband.

  “What I can’t understand is what are you doing with these scoundrels?” Satinder said, his eyes narrowed. “I thought you were Gina’s friend.