Forbidden Desires (8 page)

It took more than two hours she took for the ride she would never forget.

At ten o’ clock sharp a black Mercedes arrived at her place. But the family only got home by 10:30 and in her rush she didn’t bother to change. Her in-laws both gave her a look that said they didn’t approve; she ignored them.

She reached the station and a man whom she presumed to be Harshvardhan’s bodyguard was waiting for her at the entrance. She hesitated. What if this was all a ruse to kidnap her and harm her?

Just then Harshvardhan emerged from another car that she didn’t notice was already parked opposite hers. Harshvardhan was wearing a dark blue kurta and jeans. For a man in his late 40s, he looked better than most men half his age.

‘You made it,’ he said, his mouth curving into an unconscious broad smile as he took long, bold steps towards her. He gently touched her elbow, guiding her towards the platform as his bodyguards walked behind them

He didn’t waste any time. ‘So when we spoke about safety,’ he said to her, ‘you had mentioned lighting. I have had these emergency lights placed all over the stations. This one is just a reference point. I’ve also got cameras installed. See there?’ He didn’t try to hide his excitement. Indeed the platform was well lit and CCTV cameras were in place. As a train approached she quickly noted the pink streak running along the coaches. She was impressed. He had actually taken steps to make a women-only train a reality. The train was clean, the AC was working well, and it even had a plug point for phone chargers. There were CCTV cameras on both sides of the bogey.

‘This is all good,’ she said as she looked around. There was space for ad hoardings on the tilted ceilings. And there was even an emergency phone on one side.

‘Any passenger who needs help can just pick up the phone and without dialing it connects to the station master at the next platform. Immediately police officers reach the next platform.’

She was amazed. It was well thought out and her suggestions had been taken into account.

‘Shall we take a ride?’ he smiled as he sat down on the bench and the two bodyguards went to the other end of the coach and stood there.

‘We’re going to move?’

He nodded and raised his hand and the train came to life as if by magic. Ayesha sat opposite him as the train began to leave the platform.
I’m truly on this crazy ride now
, she thought. No one knew where she was.

‘So what do you think, Ayesha?’ he looked at her intently.

‘It’s impressive. Where will we stop?’

‘Wherever you want it to. Otherwise it will go to the end of the line and come right back here.’ He was gauging her lack of ease. ‘Are you feeling alright?’

‘Yes.’ She looked out the window, the twinkling lights of Delhi flying past her, looking pretty across the skyline.

‘Thank you for coming,’ he said. ‘I wanted to get a woman’s point of view and all the women I know are in my family. They never give me an honest opinion about things. It sometimes feels as if they agree with me only because I do favours for them.’

Ayesha wondered if he was opening up to her because she also felt like she could tell him anything. ‘This really is such a wonderful birthday present.’

‘Oh! When is your birthday?’

‘Today.’

‘Happy Birthday, Ayesha. I wish I could have given you flowers.’ The warmth of his smile echoed in his voice.

‘That’s alright. This is the most wonderful gift I’ve received.’

‘You look beautiful, if I may be so forward as to say so. Stunning in a sari.’

‘Thank you.’

‘So I’m planning to make a statement about this scheme next week. I’ve written down some thoughts and I’d like you to tell me what you think. Will that be alright?’

‘Sure.’

He smiled and took his phone out to read his notes. ‘May I sit with you?’ he asked.

She nodded. He sat next to her and began scrolling down his notes. Overall they were good but she had a few suggestions; he took them graciously.

Once she accidentally brushed her hand against his and immediately felt electricity. He nodded his head, laughed, spoke, hesitated, spoke again and she became more and more sure of herself around him.

‘Thank you so much, Ayesha,’ he said when they finished.

‘You’re welcome.’

They kept sitting next to each other. ‘So tell me about yourself,’ she said.

So he did. From his childhood to his political career, his taste in single malts and history books. He gave her a little glimpse of the highs and lows of living the life of a bachelor.

‘Why did you never get married?’ as soon as the words escaped her lips she realized she may have overstepped.

He didn’t seem to mind. ‘I never found an intelligent woman who could challenge me,’ he said while looking deep into her eyes. ‘And what about you, why did you get married so young? You must have been, what, twelve?’

Ayesha laughed. ‘No no, I had already finished college. Well, the short of it is that my father found the right man for me.’

‘Is any man ever right? I’ve heard women say there is no such thing as “the right man”, only the right time.’

‘Oh yes that’s true.’

‘And I’ve also heard people say that all men need to be moulded anyway so how does it matter who you marry? All you need is a whip and a stern look and the man is just mush in your hands.’

Ayesha found him charming. ‘That’s hardly the case here. But is that why you never succumbed to any woman? You didn’t want to be moulded?’

‘Oh no. I’m happy to be moulded. I would love to listen to a woman’s suggestions about my career and life. They’re far more intelligent than men anyway. Why do we keep them at home and waste their lives away by making them cook food and raise children? In fact, men should do that and let the women lead the country. They would do a far better job. Look at the women entrepreneurs and women managing CEO positions everywhere. They are the backbone of growth. Not the men who fight wars because of their egos.’

‘You really think women can do all that?’

‘Of course! Look at how they multitask at home. Imagine if they had to do that in a workplace without worrying about children or what’s cooking for dinner. The world would be a much happier, calmer and thriving place.’

Ayesha studied her hands. ‘Have you read Stephen Hawking?’

‘Yes I have. A Brief History of Time. Have you?’

Ayesha felt alive. Why did a woman need an intellectual connection with a man to feel attracted to him? No matter how good-looking a man was, if he liked things that she was not interested in, a woman would never feel compelled to spend time with him. That was the simple truth of any relationship.

The conversation was easy. They spoke about books, theories, the country and their lives. He questioned and listened and she in turn questioned and listened. He didn’t know why he felt so attracted to this woman who was already married. He knew it could not lead to anything and yet he wanted her approval, her appreciation, and wanted to protect her, too. It was very unusual for him.

Ayesha didn’t know how the time passed. Who was this stranger she was speaking to? Why was he asking so many questions and why was she replying? When he spoke about his family and his life as a politician, she felt a wave of emotion of wanting to nurture him.

As the train came to a halt, he instinctively moved to prevent her from falling and stopped himself a few inches short so as not to touch her. How he longed to hold her. Maybe this was the last time they would meet. He had no more excuses. She was a married woman. He needed to leave her alone.

The train stopped and Ayesha got up, suddenly aware that the bubble had burst. She now needed to go home. To her family.

‘Well it was lovely meeting you,’ she said, a pensive shimmer in the shadow of her eyes. ‘All the best for this. I think it’s a wonderful idea and women will love it.’

They slowly walked back to their cars as he said, ‘Thank you for taking out time for me and giving me your valuable feedback. The same car will drop you home safely. I’ve given you my number in case you need anything. Please just call me. For anything.
I’m with you, for you, always
.’ His dark eyes locked with hers for an instant.

She nodded and shook his hand. ‘Thank you so much.’ She turned before her voice could choke.

He watched the car leave as he stood in the cold winter morning, wondering whether his life would ever be the same again. His heart ached.

Ayesha had barely a week to prepare for their Switzerland trip. It was mid-December and they were going to leave as soon as Adi’s school days ended. She had postponed packing to the last minute not knowing if Varun would gamble away the tickets again.

It had been a week since that train ride. The very next day she received a huge, beautiful bouquet of flowers from Harshvardhan. There was no card but she knew. She had sent him a text message saying thank you for the flowers and he had replied, ‘You’re most welcome.’ Ayesha dissected that SMS for a few days. What did ‘most’ mean? She felt like she was in high school all over again, with a crush on a boy.
I must shake this off quickly
. The best way to do it would be to plunge into their Switzerland holiday.

A few days later she got another SMS from him: watch the news at nine. Promptly after Adi went to bed she turned on the TV and said she needed to see the news. Just at that moment Varun walked away to his room to take a call. She watched as Harshvardhan was telling journalists about the new metro line for women.

The press asked questions and he answered them confidently. He also gave the brief speech that he and Ayesha had written together. She couldn’t help but smile as she watched him. She felt proud of his achievements and at the same time felt humbled that he had taken her advice.

Just as he was nearing the end of his speech he paused and looked directly into the camera. Ayesha leaned forward as he did too from where he was. The camera zoomed in on his face, which to Ayesha looked like he was waiting for someone. Ayesha whispered to herself, ‘Go on.’

At the same time he spoke, ‘
Be safe. Be happy. I’m with you, for you, always
.’

He smiled into the camera. Ayesha knew those last words were for her. He had said them the night of the party when he had looked directly at her, and then again after the metro ride. Those words were for her.

Now Ayesha wasn’t sure if this was just a high school crush. It could be deeper and it scared her.

Later that evening he sent her an SMS: Did you watch it?

She sent a reply: Yes. Well said. Congrats. She wanted to appear collected. If she showed too much emotion he may get the wrong idea. What did she know about politicians, anyway? He could ruin her husband’s career and her father’s business and worst of all, her reputation with her children and society.

Will you meet me for dinner to celebrate? he replied.

I’m leaving for Switzerland for a vacation with my family in a few days. Have a lot to finish before that.

Okay. Take care. Enjoy yourself.

That was the end of the SMS-exchange. Curt. She knew she had put him in his place by reminding him that she had other duties and a husband with whom she was now going on a vacation.

Her heart felt heavy though. Her thoughts pained her.

Marriage is the ultimate chastity belt. You could have feelings only for one man for the rest of your life. Marriage made you loyal to one person. You were not allowed to lust after anyone else. You weren’t allowed to think of another man in your life. There were no ‘what ifs’. You had to make the best of your life and be happy with the man you had.

Ayesha wanted to make her marriage work. She needed to end whatever it is she is having with Harshvardhan. At least that’s what she tried to convince herself.

She texted him: Maybe a quick coffee?

They met a few hours later. Far from being closure, it heralded a beginning.

‘Why would you ever give up photography?’

Harshvardhan and Ayesha were having dinner at the Oberoi in a quiet, reserved corner of a restaurant and he was regaling her with tales of other politicians he refused to name. Ayesha was enjoying his company and he also listened to stories from her life, her childhood and her own child, Adi.

‘I had to give the camera back to Tarini. I could never ask for a new one because you know, those are not things middle-class girls ask for anyway. It was over ten years ago. I was leaving Delhi and I really didn’t want to photograph Allahabad!’

Harshvardhan could tell that Ayesha had made sacrifices for her husband and child. A family that took her for granted and didn’t value her at all. Parents who didn’t understand the bright woman they had raised. ‘Well it’s easy to start again.’

Ayesha shook her head, ‘Now there’s no time. All the money also goes to the house and making ends meet. It’s not as if it’s such a problem. It’s just that I really have no time either…’ Her voice trailed off as her mind flooded with thoughts about the house. He noticed her zoning out.

Suddenly Ayesha felt sad. This would be the last time she met him. She needed to finish packing and they would be leaving soon.

As if he had read her thoughts he asked, ‘What’s wrong?’

Ayesha shook her head, choked up. ‘Nothing.’

Harshvardhan looked around to check that no one was looking and gently reached out across the table to lay his hand on hers. ‘Ayesha,’ he whispered. ‘Everything will be okay. I’ll make it okay. Just don’t worry. Let’s just enjoy this time here today.’

Ayesha nodded her head, holding back her tears and raising her head to smile at him. She needed to stay in the moment. If she thought about her future she would feel bleak and empty again. But she needed more time with him. Her coffee was over and so was dinner. He would send her home with his driver soon. He was that kind of a gentleman. She needed to speak to him for hours. Maybe hold his hand, rest her head on his shoulder. She didn’t know why she felt those emotions. Sometimes there was no logic to feelings. There were just right or wrong ones.

‘Can’t we go somewhere where we can talk without getting interrupted every five minutes for what else we would like?’ Ayesha asked, a little boldly, she realized.

‘Sure.’ He looked up and his bodyguard called his secretary and they mumbled something in his ear.

Then he turned to her. ‘Would you like to go to a suite in this hotel and have a little more coffee? Or would you like to go for a drive somewhere and chat on the way?’ And then with an afterthought and smile, ‘I’ll have people around if you like, if you feel unsafe with me.’

How could Ayesha tell him that she felt most safe with him? She felt that he was the only person who could keep her safe from her own life. ‘Let’s go to the suite. It’s cold outside. And foggy.’

‘Is the family going to be okay with you gone for so long?’

She nodded her head. ‘I told them I would be out for the whole day running errands. No one is questioning me since we’re leaving for Switzerland tomorrow afternoon.’

Harshavardhan nodded his head. ‘You go first. The man from the lobby will escort you upstairs. I’ll follow in ten minutes. Is that okay? For safety reasons. If you change your mind halfway, you can always leave and I won’t question you about it. Okay?’

Ayesha thought that was very gracious of him. He was giving her the option to leave at any time if she felt uncomfortable.

A few minutes later they were sitting in a large Presidential Suite, enjoying the view of the fog that covered a large part of Lutyens Delhi. It looked beautiful in the early evening with a few twinkling lights coming on.

Harshvardhan admired her as she walked around in her black silk sari. She was one of the few women who could look elegant in trousers and a sari while being comfortable in both. She was petite and flower-like with eyes of fiery determination. Her long dark hair fell gracefully over her shoulders and her nose ring sparkled in the light. She was serene and mesmerizing. There was no way a man wouldn’t be in love with her. He dared not make a move.

But as Ayesha turned back from the window to look at him she saw that his gaze was fixed on her. He sat there, devilishly handsome, his hands folded in front of him. He had a ruggedness that attracted her. In his plain white shirt and khaki trousers, he looked simple but rich. He smiled and inclined his head as he looked at her. His mouth curved into an unconscious smile.

Ayesha walked over to him and sat beside him on the bed, looking out the window. He shifted to see her better. She shifted as they faced each other. His burning eyes held her still. She leaned in, tilted her head and closed her eyes. She knew she was crossing the line.

Harshavardhan leaned in to kiss her gently on the mouth, holding her by the waist and nudging her toward himself. She kissed him back. She moved her body towards him and held his hair, longing for him even more. He could feel her desire as he held her and stroked her hair.

When he let go, Ayesha pulled away. ‘Is this right?’

‘No. But we’ve done so many right things in our life that never felt good. Why not do a wrong one that makes us feel right?’

This time Ayesha held him and kissed him as if it was the only thing that mattered in the world. A sense of urgency drove her.

‘Don’t get your sari crushed,’ he whispered to her, as he didn’t want to let her go and hardly cared about the sari.

She pulled away to go into the bathroom to remove her sari and wear a robe. Her heart was pounding and logic had flown out of the window. But Ayesha knew that for the first time in her life, she was doing something entirely for herself. Not her father, her husband or her son. Just for herself.

As she walked back to fall into his open arms, the night sky lit up. The fog over Delhi lifted as it did in her heart. This one night would save her from her dreary life and then she would be able to go to Switzerland and then Lucknow in peace.