A Perfect Mismatch (7 page)

Upstairs in the bedroom she paced the floor in suppressed
fury. How dare they treat her like that! Some of the old hurt resurfaced but she shook herself free of maudlin self-pity. Nothing had changed between her and
the other three.
They had grown up despising her for who she was. She was still the outsider. Soon … she would be gone! And she would make sure she never saw any of them again!

Armaan strode in with his customary black frown. “Did you say something to her about wanting a honeymoon? Why was she harping on about
you
wanting a break?”

Zara wished he would choke on his presumptuous, arrogant tongue! “You think I would want to go with you even if the gods offered me free tickets to paradise?”

“And you think I would go anywhere with you if you were the last woman on earth? I guess there is no choice but to do what she bids. It is after a long time that I have seen her healthy and happy. However much I may loathe this situation I cannot refuse her!” He ran a restless hand through his hair and paced furiously.

Zara rolled her eyes in frustration, “At this rate she would be ordering us to have babies at a prescribed date!”

Armaan swiveled on his heels to say mockingly, “God forbid! Can’t imagine having kids with those familiar prickly pear traits!”

Zara could have lunged at him for that not-so-subtle comment on her nature, but she settled for saccharine sweetness, “Oh how lovely that you finally admit to
your
flaws. Of course your kids would inherit your praiseworthy genes rather than the fine characteristics of the poor unfortunate woman that you decide to bed, to beget them.”

“And the man who marries you must certainly have the talent and the dexterity of a consummate fencing enthusiast. A lesser man would wilt without suitable armour to protect himself from your acidic tongue!”

She held herself straight and looked into his eyes, “Like the way you would wilt if you didn’t wear the armour that Aparna so kindly suggested you do, to protect yourself from me?”

So she had heard the comment. He should have stopped Aparna, Armaan thought regretfully. Whatever the relationship between him and his wife, no one had the right to butt in and pass comments. It had never been his intention to hurt Zara even though they had so much animosity between them. He had planned to keep it simple by not getting involved. He had never expected to feel … this strange attraction whenever she was around. It made him angry! Out of control! All his plans were being skewered by so many external and internal factors that he wasn’t in control anymore. Aparna’s silly jibe had been in bad taste, but for the life of him he could not bring himself to apologize to Zara. In a way it was beginning to sound true to him. That he needed armour to protect himself from Zara. Dammit! He was not supposed to feel this way!

He walked into the bathroom and called out in a hard tone. “Let us get this damned honeymoon over with. It is beginning to feel like a curse!”

“My sentiments exactly!” Zara called out as he shut the door of the bathroom with a bang. She sat heavily on the bed. It was time to play another farce.

The clash of wills between mother and son continued on how long the honeymoon should last. Vini was adamant about a week while Armaan stuck mulishly to a measly two days including departure and arrival.

The choice of destination was also a bone of contention but Zara put her foot down saying that she could not leave the country for a vacation as she had a ton of pending work at the office. Armaan agreed firmly on that decision with her. So they grudgingly agreed on Goa for a week. The only people excited about the honeymoon were the kids and they were not even going!

The flight to Goa was pleasantly uneventful. They refused to acknowledge each other’s presence even though they sat together. The unspoken rule was to maintain distance and dignity without indulging in a volley of acrimonious words between them. Throughout the flight and the hour-long cab journey to the hotel Armaan held himself aloof
except for a word here and there when conversation became necessary. Away from the prying eyes of family members, they did not have to pretend to be in the throes of marital joy.

Zara’s mother-in-law had talked herself to a standstill with the list of instructions. Armaan had finally put a stop to the harangue with a sigh of exasperation, firmly telling his mother that he had already been to Goa several times and was not a wide-eyed tourist!

They reached the hotel in the afternoon and were led into the lounge by a uniformed bellhop. Every nook of the reception was lavishly designed; the beautiful cottages were eco-friendly, ensconced within a cluster of palms with a tiny private garden that gave it an exotic look. The view from the luxurious living room with its wide glass windows was spectacular, the afternoon sun glinting on the cerulean Arabian Sea.

“What in the world is this?”

Zara was astonished to see the room covered in floral decorations, scented candles and glittering streamers festooned the bed from the ceiling to the floor.

Armaan followed her into the room with the room service staff and looked askance at the red and gold motif of the honeymoon suite which his mother had arranged to be decorated. “Great! More flowers!” said Armaan with a fatal air.

The staff wished Zara and Armaan, gushing effusive compliments. After he was gone, bowing and scraping obsequiously, Zara blurted out, “We don’t want this cottage!”

For the next few minutes, a long argument ensued which didn’t favour either of them. “So you are welcome to sleep on the seashore if you want! The natural surroundings are ideal to calm even a lunatic.” Armaan’s curt words infuriated her as he continued. “If Mom hears from Mr. Suri that we wanted separate bedrooms, it would be hell! I don’t want her getting concerned.”

That seemed to have the desired effect. Her mother-in-law should not come to know of the real situation at any cost. Zara shrugged, “You can take the divan in the drawing room for the night. We don’t have to pretend married bliss here.”

“Yes, of course, you are right!” drawled Armaan with a smirk. “But you will be the one taking the divan. It is too short for my height!”

“Fine! How silly of me to expect chivalry from you!” said Zara imperiously and began to unpack her suitcase.

They ordered a late lunch pretending not to notice each other. Afterwards Zara retired into a corner of the drawing room with her laptop.

After a while, Armaan left mentioning that he would be back in an hour. When even after two hours he didn’t reappear Zara began to grow restless. How insensitive of him that he should dump her in the hotel room and disappear!

Unable to concentrate on anything, she gazed out of the clear window. At the horizon were large dark clouds indicating light showers. On an impulse, she threw aside her calculator and notepad and called the reception for a hired taxi. There were cars on rent for the guests and she
thought that it was a splendid idea. She did not want her war with Armaan to spoil her vacation. A week alone in this place would be divine, she thought delightedly.

Quickly changing into a loose sunny yellow top and jeans, she braided her hair and put on her shoes. As the mood for exploration and adventure took over, she felt better. She called Armaan, but there was no answer. So she left a message to be delivered to her husband that she would be back for dinner.

As she turned out of the driveway, Zara felt the first stirrings of a vagabond who had sprouted wings. Half an hour went by, the road widened into a fork and she drove without heeding the signboards, navigating though the turns and twists, simply enjoying the drive. She did not notice that while enjoying the scenic beauty she had forgotten to keep track of the road. Very soon, there were green mountains everywhere. After a while she felt that it was best if she stopped for directions.

But there was no visible human habitation anywhere. She remembered seeing red roofed houses a little way back where a few children were playing. A signboard written in Konkani whizzed past. A little worried now that it was quickly growing dark, she tried to turn the car around on the narrow muddy lane she had come through.

The first fat drop of rain brought a fresh bout of fears. Within minutes, the entire place was misty with rain. It fell in swathes, heavier and darker, while the road ahead grew slushier. Suddenly there was a deluge of water all around the car. She braked hard, sensing the strong pull of
the currents on the wheels. Fear gripped her. She stopped for a moment until the water on the road receded. It was a mistake. The water came up to the wheels and submerged them. She started the car in a panic and it gurgled with a sad noise.

Zara was truly frightened now. She tried to call Armaan but there was no signal.

She decided to walk hoping to find her way. She opened the car door and was soaked in muddy water up to her knees and drenched from the top by the swirling rain. As she stood frightened to her bones, she heard the sound of someone sloshing through the water towards her. A figure loomed large in front of her and she almost screamed in terror.

“Zara!”

It was Armaan! Oh, thank God for making him find her! She hurled herself into his arms like the proverbial damsel in distress and he caught her tight against his chest.

Armaan had only one thing on his mind. Fear! He gathered her closer in his embrace in sheer relief and a mixture of nameless emotions he couldn’t recognize or acknowledge. He had been terrified that Zara was lying somewhere injured or worse. He didn’t want to think of the agony he had felt when he found that she had left the hotel. Unable to stand the undercurrent of tension between them, he had gone to meet an old artist friend from his college days. When he returned, Zara was gone. After waiting for half an hour with only the message left at the hotel reception, he had grown worried. When she didn’t answer
his calls he had turned the hotel and its staff upside down, grilling them about her whereabouts. Searching for her in the pouring rain under a darkening sky, he was beginning to lose his mind when he saw her huddled in the cold rain near the car. The apprehension that he had felt for the past few hours exploded without warning.

“You imbecile! What the hell were you thinking? You just drove off without knowing the terrain!” He gripped her shoulders, looking down at her with blazing eyes.

Zara had forgotten everything at being held in that tight clasp. She had been on the verge of tears. Oh to be safe in his arms! But then how could anything be that good. Any words of gratitude that had risen to her lips simply burnt to cinders in the flames of temper. All she had wanted was a little comfort but it was useless to expect anything from Armaan.

“What was I supposed to do? Should I wait for you, like an obedient wife while you disappeared without a trace for hours? I am not answerable to you!” she threw back huffily.

Armaan held up his hands in exasperation. It had been such a relief to see her a few minutes ago, safe and unharmed. He couldn’t resist gathering her close to him when he saw her look unsure and afraid. And she was yelling at him when it was all her fault!

Angry at his own foolishness, he let go of her immediately, aware that he had revealed too much of his emotions. “You have the entire hotel staff searching for you right now! Couldn’t you call and tell me that you had plans?”

“I informed the front desk receptionist! How would I know that the car would break down in this rain? There was no signal on the phone,” Zara was shrieking now. She rued the day she decided to marry this arrogant man.

“What do you mean the car’s broken down?” Opening the door, he peered inside the gloomy darkness. He tried the ignition key several times but the engine was not even gurgling anymore. He slammed the door shut and glowered at her. “I am not surprised that it has broken down! Half an hour with you and anything would break down!”

“Shut up!” She took a step in the swirling water and lost her balance. He was quick to steady her.

“No, you shut up and listen.” Armaan struggled to keep his voice calm. “We will have to walk back. We’d be lucky if we find our way out in this rain. I didn’t get a vehicle because I took a walk around the hotel area. I didn’t think you would have come this far. When I couldn’t find you in the vicinity of the hotel, I took a lift from a passerby. We asked some people on the way and the man dropped me about a kilometer from here. I have been walking all the way from the last sign board!”

“Alright what do we do now?” she asked a little sheepishly.

“We walk until we find the road back to the hotel.” He flicked back the wet hair plastered on his head and began walking while trying to call the hotel. There was no signal.

Zara was late in reacting, almost falling into the muddy waters as she tried to keep up with his swift strides. Very soon, she was falling behind and could only make out his
outline in the dark. She wiped the water from her eyes and plodded on, stumbling once or twice. One moment he was there and then, he was gone.

“Armaan!” she yelled in fright trying to wade through the water.

He appeared out of nowhere and scared her again. “Why can’t you move faster?” He didn’t want to be stranded in this godforsaken place with his wife. He had to get her out safely!

Zara thought she would lose her tattered self-control if he shouted at her again. “Not everyone has long legs like you!”

“What … now you want circus stilts to walk on? It is just a little water!” he drawled impatiently. He gripped her arm to frog march her down the invisible path.

Sorely tempted to knock him on his head, Zara decided to swallow her pride. She could barely see anything and wondered how he could navigate with such precision. They walked for several minutes when unexpectedly Armaan stopped, pulling her back before she could hurtle along blindly. He pointed out the large fallen tree and some loose rocks blocking their path.

Zara looked at him in trepidation.

“It wasn’t there earlier. The only way out seems to fly over it.” Armaan said with a grimace. He clasped her hand but Zara shook herself free to examine the tree.

“There has to be a way around it!” She was going to burst into hopeless tears any moment.

She sloshed through the water in the darkness. Before Armaan could stop her she tried to step over the tree’s thick
branches. Suddenly her foot seemed to sink into the mud and she was tottering backwards into dark empty space. Her scream rent the air as she fell into the valley below. Her flailing hand was at once caught in a manacled grip. She hung on but only for a few seconds as Armaan, who loomed over the edge trying to haul her back, could not keep his own footing in the loose mud.

They fell headlong, sliding with the torrent. Zara was crushed between Armaan’s heavier body and the soft slippery earth. Trying to protect her, Armaan cradled her head in the crook of his shoulder, holding her tight against him. He was afraid that his weight would crush her. There was no time to think as they rolled and rolled through thick grassy foliage without any impediments to their downward tumbling. They landed in, what appeared in the dark, a meadow with high grass thick with the stench of cow dung and slick mud.

Shocked by the fall, they lay panting for a while. Zara could feel every limb and muscle rattled by the fall. She realized that she was sprawled on top of him. She touched his cheek worriedly, fearing that he was knocked senseless trying to save her.

Armaan stirred, breathing heavily and looked directly at her. “Are you alright? No bones broken?” he asked in a gruff voice.

Zara felt immensely relieved, grateful that he had protected her even though the fall.

“I think I managed without getting killed. Thank you! A bit shaken though.” she whispered, still groggy.

“Well, then get off me or I will shake you up myself for
almost getting
me
killed!” he yelled right into her ear. Zara scrambled up as fast as she could, her ears ringing with the yell.

Armaan rose, wiping his hands on his shirt with a black grimace.

What was wrong with the man? He was permanently grouchy! A blistering tirade rose to her lips which she quelled with much difficulty. She breathed in deeply to get a grip on it. “It was an accident!”

“Indeed it was! If you had not gone hopping around the tree we would still have been standing on the road! Now we are standing in a puddle of dung and God knows what else, in the middle of a …” he looked around in the gloom and continued his tirade, “a paddock without an address!”

“No one asked you to be a superhero to save me!” she pointed out acidly, any gratitude extinguished by his words.

“You are darned right! I should have let you have your merry roll in this dung alone,” he raged, trying to get the slick mud off his hair.

Enraged she picked up a lump of some indistinct substance she saw nearby and threw it at him with a splat. “Take that, you grump! I have had enough of you!”

A growl of sheer outrage emanated from his throat, as her aim found its mark. Too angry to think about his actions he scooped up a handful of the same goopy material and deposited it with relish on her head. She shrieked and hopped in utter disgust. She lunged at him with her bare hands aimed at his throat. Armaan held her back with ease, evading the grip. A dexterous twist and he
had maneuvered her into his arms, his grip tight enough to squeeze the breath out of her. Zara was panting as her eyes threw daggers into his dark shadowed face.