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Authors: Preeti Shenoy

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BOOK: The Secret wish List
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‘What have I done to deserve such marvellous friends? First Gaurav, then you,’ I ask her.

‘I don’t know. You bring comfort and joy to people. You are sincere and true and honest, and that’s what attracts others to you. You don’t find such qualities anymore. It is as though you have been untouched by time. There is something pure and innocent about you, Diksha. Anyone who gets to know you is immediately be struck by this.’

I don’t know if it is the wine which is making her say all this. But I know she means it.

‘Ha, ha, ha. You say I am so innocent and pure, and here I am cheating on my husband and having an affair. Some kind of purity it is,’ I laugh.

‘But you see, that is precisely the point. You have never really loved your husband, Diksha. You have always been faithful to only Ankit. It’s not about physical infidelity, if you want to call it that. It really isn’t about sex—even a blind fool can see that. Your love for Ankit—it is so pure. It is untouched by time and it is strong and true, Diksha. You have no idea how rare that is. And how very fortunate you both are to have found it.’

Later that night, I think about Tanu’s words about my relationship with Ankit. I am not able to reach any conclusion about it. All I know is that I feel so totally complete when Ankit is with me. I need him. Now that I have found him I will do anything to be with him.

I text him saying so. He replies back almost instantly.

He feels exactly the same.

Twenty-Three

A
NKIT CALLS ME UP THE NEXT NOON.

‘Hey listen, are you sure you want to spend a night together?’ he asks.

‘Why? Are you having second thoughts?’ I tease him.

‘Of course not. Why would I? You are the married one, remember?’

‘Ha, ha, yes. But you know what the adultery laws in India say?’

‘What?’

‘Firstly, in Indian law, adultery is defined as sex between a man and a woman without the consent of the woman’s husband. And since I do not think you will ever get my husband’s consent, what we are doing is definitely adultery.’

‘Hmmm, don’t make it sound so cold.’

‘Secondly, only the man is prosecutable and can be sentenced for up to five years, even if he himself is unmarried. And the married woman in the affair cannot be jailed.’

‘What? Don’t tell me! That is so unfair,’ he says.

‘Ha, ha, yes. In fact, the National Commission for Women has strongly opposed this archaic law set in the British times. It
is
really gender discrimination, as it implies that women are the property of the husband. They have recommended that this law be rescinded and they want it reduced to a civil offence. But that is yet to happen. In fact, most European nations have decriminalised adultery, but you know India. We are still stuck in ancient times in some matters.’

‘Wow, Diksha. How do you know all this? I am so impressed. I hadn’t even thought of adultery and its implications and what the law says. That angle hadn’t even occurred to me.’

‘Well, you have been busy signing multimillion dollar deals while I have been busy reading up and contemplating the possible consequences of my actions if this ever comes to light,’ I say.

‘It won’t. But I know that I want you. Leave Sandeep, Diksha. Walk out. And let us make a life together.’

I do not know what to say to that. I don’t even have the guts to face up to my husband when he treats me badly. How in the world will I have the courage to walk out of my marriage? I am indeed terrified of Sandeep’s rage. Besides, fifteen years of being with him has made me emotionally dependent on him—something that I am slowly trying to break away from now that I have Tanu and Gaurav and Ankit as my support systems.

‘I don’t know, Ankit. I have been married so long, I have forgotten how it feels to live on my own and make my own decisions.’

‘Who says you have to live on your own? You will live with me.’

‘And your parents? You think they will accept it? Your social status, the circles they move in—what will people say? That you married a woman with a child?’

‘Look, Diksha, my parents are divorced themselves.

They really don’t care. My mother is having an affair with an industrialist. My father is seeing someone who is younger than me. Ours is a crazy mixed-up family. You think they will really care?’

‘Ankit, we will talk about making a life and all that later. You tell me what time will you come home today? And tonight you can stay. Abhay is at his grandmother’s.’

‘Diksha, you come over. I will drop you back in the morning when I leave for the airport. Let me not spend the night there. You never know if the chakkar woman is spying on you from her balcony,’ he says. He is only half-joking, but he does have a valid point.

I spend the night with Ankit at The Leela, a super-luxury hotel. It is the best night of my life. I have never stayed away from home on my own my entire life. I love every little thing about the hotel. I love the extravagance, the luxury and all the comfort it brings.

Ankit smiles at my childish joy at discovering the handmade chocolates with rum at the centre. He laughs when I go to the bathroom and quickly strip and emerge wearing a bathrobe with nothing underneath. He pulls me towards him and we make love slowly this time. He kisses my forehead, my nose and my lips. He traces slow circles on my bare back, driving me wild, and I press my body against him. His touch sends seismic waves through me. The unhurried manner makes it even more intense and finally when I come, I scream. It feels like a volcanic explosion has taken place inside of me. I have never known such intense pleasure, such joy, such absolute contentment.

‘Ankit, I love you,’ I say later as we lie next to each other wrapped up in a cozy duvet. I am so glad that Ankit holds me after sex and actually makes conversation. So glad that he isn’t one of those men who roll over and go to sleep.

‘I know,
meine liebe
. I do too. Imagine having this for the rest of our lives.’

‘A marriage ruins everything, Ankit. It brings familiarity. Right now all this is exciting, maybe because it is rationed, measured and clandestine. Maybe it is because we cannot have each other when we want, that it is so intense. Maybe we will get bored of each other if we spend just three days together, who knows.’

‘No way. A lifetime with you won’t be enough for me.’

‘I would be content with just three days. Three days—just you and me and nobody else. I would be so happy to get that,’ I smile.

‘Let’s do it’ he says.

‘What?’

‘Spend three days together. Just you and me, without anyone else. Let us go to the Maldives.’

‘What? Are you crazy? How can I? I have never done anything that wild.’

‘So? Have you ever slept in a hotel room before with another guy? You are doing it so easily now, right?’

‘But the Maldives, Ankit? How? Don’t you need a visa?’

‘You need a visa, but on arrival. It is a wonderful place, Diksha. Ethereal, out of the world. We have a superb presidential ultra-luxury water villa there, in the middle of the ocean. I promise you, it will be unforgettable.’

‘And what will I do with Abhay?’

‘What you did with him today. Leave him with your mother-in-law. Come with me, Diksha. It will be a memory to cherish for life. Wait, let me show you what I am talking about,’ he says and leans over to the side table where his Mac is resting. He flips it open and types in the address of the website of the resort. What I see blows me away.

It is stunningly beautiful. The water villa is right in the ocean, which is a myriad shades of blue—cobalt, aquamarine, Prussian, sky blue—all of which have mingled to create a scene straight out of a painting. The villa itself is luxury personified, done-up beautifully and tastefully.

‘Oh my God, Ankit, this is so out of the world,’ I say, gazing dreamily at the photos.

‘Why else do you think I am asking you to come away here with me? It is indeed amazing, Diksha. We can create our memories. Make our dreams come true. Let’s do it,’ he says.

‘Hmmm. We will plan something. But not immediately. We will do it at some point,’ I reply.

‘Yes, that’s my girl,’ he says as he pulls me towards him and cuddles me. I run my hand through his hair and inhale his smell, a delicious male scent that is his alone mixed with an expensive designer cologne. It is something I love.

Sandeep comes back two weeks later.

And with him comes back the life I have now grown to hate. Earlier, if there was a growing sense of discontentment, now it is full-blown anathema.

Sandeep has not noticed anything new about me. I am having an affair right under his nose and he is completely oblivious to anything that might give him an inkling of it. One part of me is angry about that. How can he be
that
indifferent to me? But the other part is strangely relieved as it is because of this very indifference that I am able to continue meeting Ankit clandestinely and to continue learning salsa with Gaurav in secret, at Tanu’s apartment.

Sandeep is so involved with his work that it is as though he is lost in his own world. This new project has him completely occupied. He comes home very late these days, sometimes long past eleven pm, when I am almost ready to sleep. There are reports to be sent, data to be analysed and, even on weekends, I find him working furiously. It is as though the project has completely taken over his life and everything else has ceased to exist for him. He goes for his usual round of golf on weekends, but as soon as he comes back, he is at his laptop working. He is so busy that he does not even watch television any more. But more than anything, what elates me is that he is too tired to have sex.

Sandeep’s preoccupation with work has also given me the freedom to pursue my salsa classes. Gaurav is an excellent teacher and now that he is teaching me exclusively, my progress takes a fast-track. I have mastered the basics now. He tells me to keep practising my ‘shines’—the term for a specific footwork step in salsa, and the ‘turn patterns’ which I can do by myself. He has given me a CD which has all the salsa music, and the moment Sandeep and Abhay leave, I quickly finish my household chores for the day and put on the CD at top volume. Then I stand in front of my full-length mirror in the bedroom and practise my shines over and over again. Whenever I take a break, I message Ankit.

He replies when he takes a break. We keep sending each other messages throughout the day.

It is as though my life is finally coming together, except in secret. Sandeep has no idea at all about my progress in salsa. I keep Vibha updated through our usual phone calls, but I am not ready yet to tell her about Ankit. Only Gaurav and Tanu know about Ankit and I want it to stay that way. Gaurav is delighted with my progress in salsa.

Sandeep keeps travelling to Korea on and off. In these nine weeks, he has made at least five trips. He travels so often that I lose count. I no longer bother about his comings and goings. It is almost as if we lead parallel lives now, despite living in the same house.

Ankit travels to Bangalore just as often and I have lost track of how many times we have met now. He has integrated so well in my life that I cannot imagine how empty my life used to be earlier.

I have no option but to take Abhay with me to Tanu’s house whenever I have a class and he either watches me dance or goes to the apartment park area and plays with the kids there. During some of my classes, Tanu is around and sometimes she is working late.

She enjoys the music and loves watching Gaurav and me dance. I can see that she and Gaurav are hitting it off well and I feel delighted for them. After class, Abhay and I walk back home and on some days Gaurav walks with us and on others stays back. I can see that Gaurav and Tanu truly enjoy each other’s company. Perhaps they fill a void in each other’s lives, I think to myself.

‘Mama, Papa does not know about these dance classes of yours, right?’ Abhay asks me after one such class as we walk back home. Gaurav is with us.

‘What do you think we should do about that?’ I throw the question right back at him.

Abhay is a very smart child and I know he has guessed what is going on.

‘I think it is best if he doesn’t know. I won’t tell him as long as you buy me soft drinks whenever I demand. And, oh yes, you can buy me chocolates too and throw in a game of GTA as well,’ he says with a chuckle and runs off ahead.

‘Come here, you little pirate of the Caribbean, you blackmailer,’ I say and pretend to chase him round the park.

Gaurav bursts out laughing.

‘He is really smart,’ he says. ‘What if he tells Sandeep?’

‘He won’t. He is my son. His loyalty is towards me. Do you know he has even met Ankit?’

‘Oh my God. Really? And he hasn’t mentioned it at all to Sandeep?’

‘No. He knows a lot of things intuitively. It is as though he is wise beyond his years.’

In about ten weeks, I have mastered the twelve-turn-pattern moves as well as all its variations. There is a move called cucaracha and I have nicknamed it the cockroach. There is the mambo, basic back and opening out and cross-body lead. When Gaurav teaches me, all of these come to me almost effortlessly.

BOOK: The Secret wish List
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