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Authors: Simi K. Rao

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BOOK: Inconvenient Relations
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He gazed out of the large window, which overlooked the back garden. He could visualize the lake not far away. The tall bookshelf was overstuffed with a large collection of eclectic literature (he made a mental note to check them out later) and a huge medley of trophies (his wife had been quite the champ!). But what drew him right now was the assortment of frames, which crowded the top of the dresser.

He was arrested by them, held captive. It was a documentation of an entire life in pictures. He saw Ruhi evolve from a tiny babe in her mother’s arms to a strikingly attractive and smart young woman at the brink of the rest of her life. He picked the frames up one by one and examined them. He hadn’t perceived her like this before. The smile and infectious laughter, which echoed through each and every snapshot, told the story of an entirely diverse individual than the one he had wed, not a shy and subdued girl but one who stuck her tongue out at the world and disarmed everyone with her devil-may-care attitude. He was enthralled. Then he erupted into spontaneous laughter upon spotting another picture where she was shown wielding a hockey stick the proper way.

“But who in hell is that!”

“That’s my cousin, Sujal. We used to be inseparable,” Ruhi replied pensively.

“Is that so?” he said glancing over his shoulder; he hadn’t heard her come in.

She nodded, stealing a covert glance from the corner of her eyes. “He even proposed a few times, but I never said yes.”

There was an uncomfortable silence. Ruhi interrupted it with a laugh.

“Haven’t heard from him for a while though. He didn’t attend the wedding, but Mama should know his whereabouts.”

Don’t you dare contact him!

“Here,” she said, handing him a white
kurta pyjama
. “I thought they might fit you. I dug them out from the bottom of Dad’s shelf from his twenty-pound-lighter days.”

He regarded them dubiously.

“Dinner is served.”

***

“So, son, I understand soon you both will be moving to Venus? Hope we’ll be among your first guests.” Amrit posed the question before taking a hefty sip out of a tall glass of
lassi
. “Shaan, beta?”

“Hmm?” His son-in-law hadn’t been paying attention for obvious reasons.“Yes, sir, sure absolutely,” he responded while still staring at his wife; the ploy worked every time.

Devyani giggled like a schoolgirl. “Take some more
kheer
, son. Ruhi has prepared it with her own hands.”

It was the best pudding he’d ever tasted…for obvious reasons.

***

Shaan sat on the bed deliberating; it wasn’t looking good.

Her entire life was so different from his. The contrast clearly evident today at the dinner table. The scene overflowed with unequivocal affection and caring.

His own so-called “home” had always been a place where formality was encouraged even amongst family. Talking was kept to a minimum, and merriment was frowned upon. He had come to accept it as the “norm” and had taken to spending more and more time in isolation. On rare occasions sharing his travails with his elder brother who, despite not being able to offer any solutions, had been a patient listener.

Ruhi must have felt stifled when she came to live with me
, he thought, berrating himself.
And I didn’t do anything to help either, just made matters worse by using her, ignoring her as if she was some kind of minor malady, which would disappear over time.

Damn! How could I’ve been so selfish, to not even consider her plight, having left behind a loving family with hopes I’d replace it with mine when I have done just the opposite! It’s hopeless.
He hung his head in despair.

No, Shaan, you can’t give up now after having come this far!
Remember she’s yours first…at least on paper. You can make up for everything. Just convince her to come back with you and start over! His face lit up with hope again.
Yes… But how?

He pulled out a book from the bottom of the shelf for the sake of something to do; the title announced,
The Devil’s Wife
. Interesting.

“You can’t read that!” She snatched it from his hand. “It’s nothing but frivolous drivel reserved for adolescent girls…utter trash!”

“Really? I wasn’t aware of such a category. I should definitely read it,” he said, approaching closer, hungering for her touch. Then backing her up against the wall, holding her prisoner with his eyes, he reached behind for the book.

“No!” She fought, clutching it tighter. He tugged it out of her grasp. “Gotcha!”

Then those very same eyes swept over her, leisurely—taking their time, checking out the vermillion mark on her forehead, her large luminescent eyes and full trembling lips, pink cheeks flushing a shade deeper, the wild uneven pulsation at the base of her neck, pausing for several moments over the black beaded necklace, then proceeding lower.

Feeling vulnerably exposed, she hastened to adjust her transparent white scarf, but it slid off her shoulders and drifted to the floor.

He seemed pleased.

With a lump forming in her throat, she mumbled, “I am…”

“I…” He paused. “You were saying?”

“You first…” She felt choked.

He looked down at his feet. “I deeply regret—”

“What?”

“I…regret…” He hesitated again.

Oh no! He wants to call it quits but is not saying it outright because he has a heart of gold. He travelled all the way just to break it to me gently. I can’t let that happen!

“I…”

“Hush!” She pushed him on to the bed. “You need to sleep! You are having trouble even constructing proper sentences. The condition’s called jet lag.”

He stared dumbfounded as she tucked him in and gave his nose a playful tweak. “We’ll resume our talk in the morning…all right?”

***


Ab jaake so jao!
(Now go to sleep!) I can’t stay awake with you any longer!” her mother said, suppressing a yawn before aiming for her bedroom.

Ruhi found her husband fast asleep, looking innocently beautiful like a cherub, his head buried in her bear, Chocolate’s stomach; she wished it was hers instead. He flopped over, and she saw that his buttons were undone—her father’s shirt being a size too small. She bent low to plant a kiss on his bare skin.

Oh my god, what am I doing? What will he think of me? Stupid, stupid girl! You’ve managed to ruin it all by your impulsive shenanigans and now you want him to take you back. How can he? You are done, Ruhi, you’re finished!

She clamped her mouth shut with the palms of her hands, and as tears came streaming down her face, she ran out of the room up the stairs to the open terrace where she let out a loud wail. She cried hard, but the pressure in her chest wouldn’t get any lighter. “So this is it, the end of Ruhi’s life as we all see it. But I deserve it ‘cause I’m the worst kind of bitch. I’ve made him suffer, extracted my pound of flesh. I’ve taunted and teased him endlessly, and he has borne it all without any complaint. Instead, he loved me in return and I…” She doubled over, her stomach hurting from the violent spasms.

“Please. I promise not to do so ever again if he’d just give me another chance!”

“Ruhi? Ruhi!”

She twisted around, scraping her knees. “Shaan, I’m sorry…”

“Hush! You are rambling.” He scooped her up in his strong arms and carried her back down to her room where he deposited her gently on the bed.

“I’m not tired. I need to tell you something.”

“Don’t speak.” A restraining finger sealed her mouth, “You’re so tired you don’t even know what you want to say. The condition’s called desynchronosis caused by an alteration of the body’s circadian rhythms by rapid long distance transmeridian travel on a jet plane.”

She blinked. “What?”

“There, you see! These are the signs—when a smart and beautiful girl like you starts making foolish remarks.”

“But I’m not!”

“I happen to be an expert,” he asserted, laying himself down beside her. “And one of the remedies is to shut up and listen to what your husband says.”

She sighed yet persisted. “I can’t understand a word of what you just said, but I want to tell you I’m sorry.”

“If you repeat that again, I’ll be very annoyed!”

“Please don’t say so,” she beseeched, her tear-streaked face distressed.

He smiled, stroking her cheeks tenderly. “It is I who should be sorry.”

She shook her head in disagreement.

“Yes,” he persevered. “Sorry for giving you so much pain, for taking away your smile, for deceiving you from day one, for not carrying through with my vows. Despite all of that, you hung on with me agreeing to stay when I asked you. You didn’t leave.”

Placing an arm around her waist, he drew her close. She buried her face into Chocolate unsure of what to expect next.

“Look at me, Ruhi. I don’t blame you at all for running away, who’d want to live with a man like me?” Shaan said.

“No.You’ve been so wonderful. It’s just that, I…” She grimaced.

Oh God, she’s willing to give me a chance!

“Don’t even talk about that woman. She’s evil! I promise upon my life she’ll never—I’ll never hurt you again…ever!” he declared with ferocity.

“But you haven’t hurt me. You’ve been so generous and kind. It’s just me…”

“Now what did I tell you?” He frowned, appearing to scold her. “Tonight I want to come clean. I want to stop talking to myself, pretending you can hear me.” Her hand was snugly enveloped in both of his. “I used to think marriage was something you did to please society, and kids were the invariable byproduct.” A short dry laugh ensued. “But being with you, watching your family, has changed my opinion entirely. It is something much greater, a bond two souls share for a lifetime, one I want to share with you if you’ll allow me.”

She was relieved.
He still wants me.

“Thanks for marrying me though.”

“Why?”

“It’s taught me there is much more to life than mere breathing.” Flushing with pleasure, she hid her face in his shoulder. Chocolate was tossed aside.

He grinned. It was working. He wrapped his arms tight around her. “Hug me.”

She complied, closing her eyes, holding her breath; she could feel her heart thudding against his, beating in synchrony.

“Oh, Ruhi,” he groaned, weaving fingers through her hair and placed a tender kiss on her smooth forehead. “I want to die tonight and arrest this moment forever. It wouldn’t matter if I don’t see morning again ‘cause I’d be where I’ve always longed to be—in your arms.”

Sensibilities

A
new dawn broke through the sheer curtains casting a surreal hue over the entire bedroom. Shaan propped himself up on an elbow to prevent the unwanted intruder from disturbing the beauteous figure, which lay peacefully sleeping at his side.

At last
, he thought, allowing his gaze to sweep boldly over her alluring form.

At last, this togetherness bore no signs of the extraordinary anguish, agony, and heartache they had both toiled through. All of which could now be attributed to a painful memory or even a prolonged nightmare and given a fit burial.

The only thing left over at the culmination of this arduous journey was an incredible sense of fulfillment and belonging.

He should have felt drained, exhausted, but he did not. Rather, he felt renewed, rejuvenated, all set to embark in another direction with this new constant companion; his beautiful wife, and she was all his. Well, almost.

How long will you make me wait, my supremely covetable mistress? Will you rescind now, later today, or tomorrow? When?

Her eyes snapped open, those clear black pools stared at his face momentarily nonplussed, then as realization set in, he observed a warmth work its way slowly up her visage.

“What are you staring at?”

“Silently extolling my gorgeous wife’s innumerable assets, obvious and hidden, intellectual and physical.”

“Physical?”

“Yes, physical and undeniably so.” He could see she wasn’t prepared for this; this uncharacteristic verbal fling with boldness seemed to upset her composure substantially.

Unconcerned, he smiled and continued.
It’s my turn to ruffle your feathers.
“Would you like me to elaborate on some, my
jaan?
There happen to be quite a few.”

“Nooo! Please don’t!” she exclaimed, considerably flustered, placing fingers on his mouth.

Grabbing hold of the restraining hand, he kissed her fingers one by one, sucking gently on the tips.

She emitted a scandalized gasp.

“I will and you have to listen to me,” he said while settling his free arm on her other side, locking her in a makeshift cage. “Hmm… Shall I begin from the top or the bottom?” His toes tickled the soles of her feet.

She snatched up her knees. “Will you stop? You—”

“Hush! I don’t want to hear any more cuss words from your mouth. It has plenty better things to do.” He winked suggestively, grinning as her eyes widened with shocked understanding. “Seems like my wife is well versed in the art of pleasing her spouse, at least in theory. Anyway, she has had a very good teacher,” he said, picking up the well-worn copy of
The Devil’s Wife
and flicking deliberately through the pages.

“Oh my god! How can you bring yourself to read such junk!” she said, pretending to appear affronted while her crimson-colored complexion was a dead giveaway.

“Junk or not, it is extremely revealing as to the secret machinations of a woman’s mind, such as look here and I quote.” He rested his head on her stomach and turned to a certain page of the novel while Ruhi’s eyes focussed steadfast on the ceiling.

“That devil, that cad of a husband of mine, I loathe him with my entire being yet when he looks at me with those wicked eyes, I lose myself to—”

She sat up abruptly, pushing him off. “Shaan, this isn’t fair! How could you be so unfeeling and callous?” She reached for and managed to snatch the accursed book out of his grasp. “There, what will you do now?”

“Hmm…” He glanced slyly at her out of the corner of his eyes. “Yes, her husband was a cad, the devil himself who’d wed her for ruthlessly conceited reasons known only to himself and then subjected her to unmentionable misery and hardship, which she’d borne without complaint for the sake of her poor sick father but…”

“But?” Ruhi stared at him, fascinated as the words poured out of his mouth as though they were his own.

“But slowly inexorably against his will, this evil man was drawn toward his wife’s irresistible comeliness, her thick cascading tresses like a dark cloud—,” he said, twisting a lock of her hair around his fingers.

“But his wife was a blond,” she hurried to correct him.

Shaan laid her back down. “Her tresses, like a dark cloud fecund with rain, invited him to repose his tired head upon…the unfathomable depths of her luminescent black eyes—”

“But her eyes were blue,” Ruhi interrupted again.

“Luminescent black eyes…which gave him a glimpse of her virgin white soul. That pert nose, which turned red with fury well before she got ready to rave and rant at him. Those lips…ahhh…” He let out an exaggerated sigh.

Ruhi giggled. “Go on…those lips?”

“Those luscious lips heady with wine,” he said, coming closer so only a hair’s breath separated them. “Which I crave to savor every waking moment.” He swooped down upon her eagerly.

“Ohhh!” she exclaimed, throwing her arms around his neck. “That’s just what a woman longs to hear from her husband, be it the truth or otherwise.”

“It is absolutely nothing but the truth!” he said, holding her back. “Would I ever lie to you? Wait, I have a lot more.”

“You have more?” She raised her eyebrows in surprise.

“Yes.” He nipped the delicate skin on the inside of her elbow. “The silky supple skin, which he yearned to make a meal of—the smooth curves of her bosom, which he couldn’t wait to smother with his bare torso.” Shaan grumbled, “God, girl! You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this moment. This desire has become a permanent ache inside.”

She emitted a ragged breath when a feather-light peck landed on the cleft revealed by her deep neckline. He rushed to remove his shirt.

The alarm went off shrilly, shattering the quiet and making her scream.

“Oh no!” She scrambled to the side of the bed.

“What the—! You aren’t going anywhere without my say so!”

“I need to go. I’ve promised Mama I’d make breakfast today.”

“Bloody hell! Tell her that her son-in-law is interested in an entirely different type of feast!” He stretched to pull her back.

She fingered his cheek. “I can’t. Daddy’s waiting desperately for his only daughter’s special American pancakes.”

He collapsed on his back, lamenting, “God! A wife like this…”

“Sirf kismet waalon ko milti hai!”
(Can be treasured only by a lucky few!) She giggled before hurrying into the bathroom.

***

“Now what prompted you to set this up without consulting me first?” Shaan tried to look furious but failed utterly as he strapped himself into the passenger seat of the old Mercedes.

Ruhi, looking stunning in aviator shades and a deep blue and pink silk sari wrapped demurely around her graceful figure, gave him the once-over. Her dainty hand was placed firmly on the stick shift. Cocking a shapely eyebrow, she enunciated slowly, “Just in case you’ve forgotten, I am your wife—”

“That one I haven’t heard before,” he countered promptly.

She remained unflurried. “Therefore, I possess certain rights just like you do.”

“Good gosh! It’s all news to me! Didn’t seem so earlier this morning!”

She flushed, ready to spit fire. “Well, if you want us to make any progress in our relationship, it’s highly imperative you bury the demons of your past! Now will you please direct the way Mr. Shaan Ahuja?”

He had to admit for perhaps the ninth time that there existed considerable amounts of grey matter behind those dark shades.
She has a finger on my pulse for sure
, he thought with grudging admiration,
but I wasn’t born yesterday either, Mrs. Shaan Ahuja.

After getting her thoroughly riled up in the next half hour by leading her in a merry-go-round about town, he finally steered her to his ancestral home.

Now back in a place that he had been desperately trying to avoid, he felt at a complete loss. Sensing his agitation, Ruhi gave him a reassuring smile while adjusting her sari’s
pallu
around her shoulders.

“Everything will be fine. I am here by your side,” she said, giving his fingers a tight squeeze.

He smiled back feeling a renewed surge of confidence, and clasping her hand securely in his, strode over to the front door.

But he couldn’t banish the familiar dread that settled deep into his bones as soon as they stepped into the cavernous entryway while Dada, their family’s old faithful, scurried away to inform whoever was around that the prodigal son had returned.

Shaan felt the description appropriate when he glanced around and right away began to associate each and every object in the vicinity with some unhappy memory of his not-so-distant boyhood and youth—such as the priceless red-and-gold China vase (that his father had acquired during one of his innumerable trips abroad) which used to stand on the right of the marble fireplace that Shaan had accidentally run into and wrecked as a willful ten-year-old and ended up receiving the whipping of his life.

Though the scars had long past disappeared from his hide, they remained permanently etched in his memory as evidence of his father’s unbridled cruelty.

It was not unknown that Shiv Ahuja had always treated the inanimate with more deference than any living, breathing creature. “Imposing, isn’t it?” Shaan asked Ruhi as he saw her eyes absorb everything with curious trepidation. Suddenly, he was glad he hadn’t brought his young bride into this cold unwelcome house before now.

She didn’t have time to reply for they were immediately assaulted by the ministrations of his youngest sister-in-law, Manisha
bhabhi
, who had assumed the monumental task of spreading some cheer into the desolate surroundings, something the rest had given up on long ago.

“Oh my gosh!” she exclaimed as she fluttered into the formal living area. “What am I seeing here? Did I get off the wrong side of the bed this morning, or did my sweet brother-in-law finally decide to share his beautiful
biwi
with the rest of us poor mortals?”

“You could say so,
bhabhi
, though I wanted to keep her under cover a lot longer!” Shaan affirmed with pride and saw Ruhi smile with shy pleasure.

Manisha’s genuine laughter echoed round the hall. She perused Ruhi from head to toe then pulled her in to a warm embrace. “I don’t blame you at all for doing so, Shaan, because I’d have done the exact same in your place. What do they say? A rose by any other name—”

“Would smell as sweet. How right you are,
bhabhil!
My Ruhi is indeed like a lovely rose!” Shaan said, grinning widely while his wife threw him a warning look.


Bhabhi
, this isn’t fair! Where are my little niece and nephew? I just saw a glimpse of them at the wedding.” She interposed to divert the discussion.

“They are still at school. You can see them after they come back. I presume you are staying with us…aren’t you?” Manisha said, looking askance at Shaan.

“No, we are not,” Shaan declared firmly. “We are here briefly just to meet with you and mother. How is she?”

“But, Shaan…” Ruhi said.

“No, Ruhi, I’ve made my decision.” His brown eyes told her clearly he did not welcome any further debate.

When she looked away disappointed, he wished he could recant his words but didn’t want to take the chance; he was trying hard to shield their blossoming relationship from any further insult.

Manisha opted to not argue, being no stranger to Shaan’s stubborn attitude. “
Mummyji
is not feeling well again. She hasn’t come out of her room for the entire past week.”

“Why, what’s wrong,
bhabhi?”
Ruhi asked, exchanging an anxious glance with her husband.

“Oh, nothing’s the matter with her! She just wants attention. It has become a monthly ritual. She’ll be fine if you ignore her like I do,” a resounding masculine voice proclaimed.

They wheeled around to see a tall, hefty man stroll into the house who Ruhi recognized as her father-in-law.

He scrutinized both of them for a long time. Even the unflappable Shiv Ahuja couldn’t conceal his astonishment upon seeing his youngest son with wife in tow on his premises, having given up a while ago of expecting Shaan to return anytime soon; their last meeting hadn’t exactly ended on pleasant terms as far as he could recall.

“Jeeti raho beti!”
(Live long my child!) he said when Ruhi bowed low to touch his feet, bursting into a loud guffaw when Shaan refused to follow suit. He hadn’t changed.

“What a pleasant surprise! Looks like my son is keeping you happy. Are you, Shaan?” He glanced pointedly at his son.

Ruhi smiled serenely, not very comfortable in the presence of her flamboyant, almost autocratic father-in-law, the exact antithesis of her husband.

“You can judge for yourself.” Shaan was brusque, not appearing too pleased about this meeting.

“So you seem to have heeded my advice, that’s my boy!” Shiv Ahuja declared pompously, clapping his son on the back while winking at Ruhi. “Better to keep certain things hidden under the bedsheets, right?”

“It’s not the way you think, Dad.” Shaan bristled with anger when he spied the perplexed look on Ruhi’s face. “I want to talk to you, in private!”

BOOK: Inconvenient Relations
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