Authors: Sindhu S.
The Plunge (16 page)
A palm reader would find it difficult to read her palm with so many lines running all over, he thought. Or would it be easier with all the lines in place?
“Too many!” he said, with raised brows, smiling.
“I guess I was very tense in my mother’s womb. I used to clasp my fist whenever I felt scared during school days, especially at night.”
He was not listening to her at that moment. Would Avtar create trouble for him at home?
“Concentrate on your work. Socialising can wait,” he told her as he left Shimla.
.
S
he would avoid Ajay, Anjali decided that night.
Siddharth was jealous. Strangely, she felt happy about it. Finally, he was feeling insecure about her. That was a good sign. Jealousy came only with love.
However, she could not refuse the next day when Ajay suggested she go with him to meet some old women for his research.
There were places like the Kufri ski slopes and the Sankat Mochan temple she would want to visit only with a reliable person. Siddharth was not keen on going too far from the city.
He was a dependable guy. A sociology graduate from Delhi University, he was the only child of his parents, both professors. Ajay was among the few well-behaved men she had met so far in life. She felt safe with him.
“You were not here yesterday?” he asked.
Leaning against the pillar of the porch of her cottage, Anjali looked away, at the far end of the campus, which appeared abandoned that morning.
Ajay sat on the lone chair she had in her cottage and flipped through the newspaper that he had brought along.
“A friend had come from Delhi. We were out shopping in Mall Road,” she said, stifling her excitement.
“Seems like a close friend,” he said with a smile.
“Oh yes,” she made a futile attempt to hide her blush.
“Your fiancée?”
“Oh no. He’s just a very dear friend, a little more than that actually.”
“Single?”
“No. He’s married. He has two sons.” she tried to sound unaffected, but her voice gave away her distress.
Ajay did not say anything, though she could trace a grimace on his face before he turned away to look through the woods.
She locked the door and joined him in the walk to the institute.
“May I ask you something, if you don’t mind?” he asked hesitantly.
She heaved a sigh and nodded. She felt vulnerable. Anjali walked a step ahead of Ajay, so as to escape his gaze.
“This friend of yours, what does he do? Is he into publishing?” he asked.
He was now walking with her, not behind her.
“Leave it, Ajay. Why does that matter? He’s a close friend. That’s all I would want to say.”
Ajay took a step back. “It’s OK. You don’t have to tell me the details. I only hope you won’t get hurt by this relationship. You seem to be emotionally bound to him.”
She sighed. “I am. I can relate to this world better with him by my side. I feel complete with him in my life. I need him, Ajay. I love him.”
He blinked several times. “It is OK, Anjali. It’s OK to love someone the way you do, unconditionally, and without expectations. You need a lot of guts to do something like that,” he paused as if to give her time to grasp the gist of his message.
“But from your reaction, I suspect you depend on him a little too much. Maybe you find him easy to connect with. But the question is: Will he be your companion for life?”
She stared out at the grey hills that stood unmoving beyond the woods.
“Fine,” he said. “You are clearly serious about him, and quite sentimental too. What about him? There is nothing lacking in his life. Why then, is he with you?”
Was he scolding her? She sensed Ajay was upset and was not trying to hide it. He stopped briefly as her face turned red with emotion.
“Men don’t take such relationships seriously. They don’t get emotionally involved. Please take care,” he said softly. “Get married to someone dependable. That’s not him. He is taken. Don’t you see it, Anjali?”
Anjali veered from confusion to sudden anger. Why was he trying to disturb her peace? Who was he, her guardian or relationship counsellor? She had not asked him for advice.
She was angry with herself for disclosing her secret to him, at least part of it.
She would not discuss Siddharth with Ajay ever again.
Anjali could not sleep that night. Ajay’s words echoed forewarnings from the past. Priya and Swapna had tried much, and failed. Now it was Ajay.
What did Ajay think of her? Did he think she was unable to find a husband? Was she so hopeless that nobody would propose to her? But Rasheed had, years back.
Siddharth was surely different. Besides, he was the only man with whom she ever felt like making love. He had never suggested a physical relationship. It just happened. Never mind that the first time was accidental.
She loved Siddharth’s touch, his voice, the scent of his sweat, everything about him. Siddharth was her man, she was convinced of that from the beginning. Why else would nature conspire to their union?
Was it
The Alchemist
, Paulo Coelho, speaking through her? When you want something, the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it. When you are loved, there is no need to understand what is happening, because everything happens within you.
She desired a close relationship with Siddharth, and she had it. She might have inadvertently made it happen by imagining that their mutual attraction was part of a divine plan. After their first intimacy in the Mumbai hotel, it was her desperation that led to this arrangement, she was aware.
He had made it clear right from the start that their relationship had no other future. It was simply not possible for him to leave Chandni and the kids. They were his family, while she was his love. Both were separate and equally precious to him, he had said.
“I wish you could meet her. Chandni is a beautiful person. You would love her,” he had said once.
Could all her well-wishers be wrong?
Or had she gone wrong somewhere?
Was it just an extramarital affair? Was it just a fling for Siddharth? Was she a mistress?
The more she thought along those lines, the heavier her heart felt.
She missed Swapna. But it was too late to call her? Maybe they could meet. But was a meeting going to change anything now?
Why heed a different opinion now? Nothing would change about her life at this stage. She had done the unthinkable already. Even if she were totally wrong in this relationship, she could not undo the damage done.
.
A
njali was happy when they set out for the Jhakoo temple that morning.
She had planned that weekend so excitedly. It was mid-August, five months in the hills.
It was raining regularly, evoking desire in lovers.
The Jhakoo temple was Anjali’s favourite among the many temples in Shimla. She was in a dreamlike state as they walked holding hands through the shady path up the hill from the Ridge. The steps that cut through the deodar woods gave the scene a painting-like appeal.
The path was deserted except for the few tourists who had chosen to walk up to the temple rather than hire a taxi or ride a horse. The rhesus monkeys that played pranks on tourists added excitement to the hike.
The brown primates had red, expressive faces and fur that looked like close-cropped hair on their heads. The noisy animals were super agile and swung across branches with pride.
The troops near the temple were smarter. While the Ridge gang snatched food from tourists, these were virtual blackmailers.
The warning sign ‘Beware of Monkeys’ reminded her of her first visit to the place, when a monkey had snatched a young man’s eyeglasses. The tourist realised what had happened only after the monkey sat on a nearby railing, holding out the glasses and teasing him. The moment the man put out his hand, the monkey would draw them back.
A resident in the area had suggested that he offer some bananas in exchange for the glasses. And it worked. As soon as the man had placed the bananas on a nearby bench, the monkey snatched them, left the glasses on the bench, and disappeared among the trees.
Today the monkeys were busy, as usual, swinging between trees and leaping off railings.
Siddharth’s mobile rang as they climbed the last flight of steps leading to the temple.
“Hi Sunaina!” He sounded excited. He walked away to a distant corner of the temple compound and spoke in a low voice. Anjali waited for him close to the temple doorway and watched his animated talk, feeling a little irritated about his gusto.
He talked for almost ten minutes and walked up to her, visibly thrilled. The woman had to be someone very close, she knew, and felt uneasy.
“Who was it?” she asked even before he had reached her side.
“Sunaina. We used to work together at
The Metropolis
many years back. She then got married to a doctor in the UK. They’ve come back to settle down in Delhi.”
Siddharth looked up.
Anjali felt like her face was on fire. She struggled to stop her chin from trembling.
He stared at her, his mouth open, as if he was stumped by her reaction.
She shifted her gaze from his face to a distant point, struggling to snuff out her sighs.
“Anjali, what makes you so upset? She is an ex-colleague
yaar
, just like you,” he said.
“Just like me? You shared a similar relationship with her?” Her voice choked with rage.
“No, no.” He protested.
“She seems keen to rebuild old ties,” she said, willing her pounding heart to calm down, but her raised voice and piercing look betrayed her irritation.
“She’s a very cheerful person. Maybe I should bring her along during my next trip to Shimla. You will love her; a charming lady.”
“It appears so. But please don’t use me as an excuse to smuggle her in.” Anjali felt another fire rise from her stomach. She regretted saying it almost immediately.
“Anjali, please don’t start imagining things,” he yelled.
She turned to face him, stunned, and stared at his face. That seemed to have calmed him. He squeezed her shoulder.
“She’s a dear friend. That’s all. You must not say such nasty things. Please. I don’t expect this kind of cheap talk from you. I thought you were mature.”
Anjali felt miserable. He had for the first time raised his voice, expressed disgust at her thoughts. Was Sunaina one of his old flames? She was almost convinced this woman was more than a dear friend to him.
A strange thought entered her mind that moment. What if she jumped off the hill that moment? Would she die or just get hurt? How nice it would be if she could push him off the hill first and bring her misery to an end instantly.
But why was she thinking such terrible thoughts?
Was she overreacting?
They were at the door of the temple. But she could not pray.
“Let’s go back,” she said, wiping tears off her face.
She had never felt threatened by Chandni. His wife had been in his life already, long before her, and had a right to be there. But this was different.
“Let’s go. Drop me off at the institute. I am not feeling well,” she said.
“OK, if you say so. I’ll also return this evening. Why spoil our weekend? You are in a bad mood. We’ll meet when you are reasonably calm.”
Was he waiting for such a suggestion from her? Clearly, he was eager to be back in Delhi. Was he eager to meet his old crush? Was she unwittingly pushing him towards her? Her heart raced in excitement. “You are eager to meet her?” She spat out her anxiety.
“
Arae baba
, what’s wrong with you? I am staying, OK? Let’s go for a drive down the hill. Or let’s go to Chail, spend a night there in the same guesthouse we stayed in when you first came here,” he said.
She felt better. At least he wasn’t rushing back into the bitch’s trap. Could it be true or was it her insecurity acting up?
The drive to Chail proved rewarding. They were laughing and chatting by the time they reached the golf course.
“Why don’t we stay at the log hut tonight? It would be fun,” he suggested.
She agreed, wondering at his sudden change of plans.
From the hut, through its beautifully crafted window, Anjali sat watching the tired horses tied to the deodars outside. She felt sorry for them. Some of the tourists from the plains were disgustingly overweight.
Picnickers left the hillock at sunset. The only people who remained were the few who had booked the log huts for the night.
Anjali was not hungry. She waited for him to make the first move. Why did he not hug her even once? She felt desperate. Why did he not turn towards her? Did he not like her anymore?
The trust factor in their relationship was withering away, she knew.
She knew that he had a wife and hence did not technically belong to her. There was no commitment from him for a formal relationship. She only hoped that he was committed at an emotional level. That was a must in any close relationship.
The dripping tap in the bathroom was racing with her heartbeats. Water dropped into the bucket in a preset rhythm, which helped engage her mind briefly. She heard him breathe softly, just a whisper away, fast asleep.
What did she want from the relationship? Was it really just an emotional connection? She saw her perfect partner in him, a soft-spoken romantic she felt comfortable with.
But now there was something that was harming their relationship. What was it?
Siddharth was a gentleman to the world, the perfect father to his children, and a caring husband to his wife.
“You must appreciate what I am risking to be with you,” he had said when they had an argument during a phone call a week ago.
He was probably right. They had to be careful, at least for his sake. She was unmarried and away from her people. She did not have to fear much, even if their affair became public. It would be different for him. He had a lot at stake, most of all his family.
Anjali moved closer to him and hugged him. She felt his body heat filtering through her skin. She closed her eyes and cherished the comfort of the moment.