Life's a Bitch!! Part-2

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I nodded to him but in my mind’s eye I smiled to myself – the “joke” was going to be on him! Then I waved everyone goodbye, went to the waiting hall, sat on a chair, opened my bag and took out the letter I had written to Aarti.

During the flight I alleged about it. After trying my utmost, I just could not envisage Aarti as my wife in my new life any more. Till now I had done everything to make everybody happy. But It was my life; Time would heal wounds, abate the injury and dissipate the anger; but what if I got trapped for life with Aarti, it would be an absolute adversity.

While walking towards the exit of Banglore Airport, I spotted a red post box. I walked towards the red post box and stood in front of it, indecisive and muddled. I took a deep breath, drew out the envelope and looked at it – the address, postage stamp – everything was okay. I knew I had to make the crucial decision right now. Yes, it was now or never.

As soon as I relocated my hand to post the letter, an incessant force clogged my hand in its tracks. Hesitation covered my mind, I tried to conceive the severe upshots, the terrible consequences of my forthcoming move.

Suddenly my cell-phone rang intruding my exploit. ‘Must be Aarti monitoring me as usual,’ I thought getting peeved at her – Aarti’s stifling familiarity and closeness seemed like manacles and I was glad I was getting away from her. I decided not to answer, but my mobile kept ringing persistently, so I looked at the display. It wasn’t Aarti but an unknown number.

“Hello,” I said into my cell-phone.

“Mr. Vaidya? Sir, we've come to receive you. Please come to the exit gate and look for the board with your name” a male voice spoke.

“I’m coming,” I said and looked at the letter addressed to Aarti in my hand.

‘No! Not like this, in hurry.’ I warned myself. Frugality was giving me signals to wait and to think over it, not to do something so irretrievable in such haste. So I continued walking toward the exit by putting that dreadful epistle back in my pocket.

Few days passed, I was well settled in my new job as well as I liked my place in Banglore. I was introduced to new colleagues cum friends. Life was going pacific and most vitally estimated. I was enjoying the hefty and unimaginable change in my life.

Only one thing wasn’t altered that was dilemma about conveyance of feeling to Aarti. Every morning I used to put the envelope in my pocket determined to post it outside my office but I couldn't. Meanwhile I used to ring up Aarti and my mother, every evening, and made charade that everything was okay but I was the only one who knew about gradually building stress and strain within me.

Every time I beheld the envelope I felt as if I had a primed grenade in my hand. With every passing day, the 20^th of March was approaching nearer and nearer. Time was running out, and I knew I had to divest myself of the bombshell pretty fast. So one day, during lunch break, I decided to post the fateful letter and get it over with once and for all.

Receptionist called me out, “Hey, Mr. Vaidya, is Mr. Sharma in his cabin?”. I said, “No, Sharma sir is on tour. Anything I can do?”.“Sir, there’s a courier for him,” the receptionist said by pointing towards courier guy waiting for someone to attend it. “I’ll take it and give it to him when he comes,” I said, as I signed the voucher and took the envelope from the courier guy, once again I was stuck.

The moment I looked at the envelope an electric tremor of trepidation quivered through me like a thunderbolt. Sender’s name was flashing ‘Ms. Aarti Joshi’

The bewildered astonishment and shocking consternation I felt when I saw Aarti’s distinctive handwriting on the envelope.

My pulse raced, my insides quivered, my brain resonated and I trembled with feverish anxiety. At first impulse I wanted to tear open the envelope and see what was inside, but I controlled myself, tried to mask my inner emotions, put on a fake smile of geniality for everyone around, gently put the letter in my pocket and began retracing my steps back to my office.

I locked myself in my office, sat down, calmed myself with a glass of water, took out the two envelopes and put them on the table in front of me. My letter to Aarti would now have to wait – I thanked my stars that some mysterious hidden restraining force had stopped me from posting it every time I tried to.

I looked at the envelope. The whole thing was incredulous. Why on earth should Aarti write to Raj Sharma? What was the connection? How did she know Sharma? What had she written to him?

The suspense was killing. I felt restless and uneasy. When I feel tense, I go for a long walk. That’s what I did. I went for a long walk around my entire office, each department, making pretence of MBWA [Management By Walking Around]. When I returned to my office it was four, still an hour to go. The next hour was the longest hour of my life. I rushed home to my apartment. I put some water in a pot to boil and then carefully held the envelope over it. I had to steam it open very meticulously and delicately.

At last I opened it…..

Dear Raj,

The suddenness with which you popped the question left me so dumbfounded that I am still recovering from the shock. Shock? Maybe that’s the wrong word, but the swiftness of your proposal, out of the blue, on our very first date – well I am a simple girl and it really left me dazed.

You sent me an e-mail, Explaining your feelings; Apologizing for what you did at the spur of the moment. Please don't be sorry. You haven’t hurt my feelings at all. Maybe outwardly I didn’t show it, but in fact, inside, I felt so good, so happy, that a suave man like you found a simple ordinary looking girl like me so attractive.

Raj, I also feel the same way about you. I can’t exactly describe the emotions I experienced when we were together. Is it love? It’s the first time it’s happened to me that I’ve felt so attracted to someone. I really feel like being with you, forever, spending the rest of our lives together. Thanks for proposing to me, Raj.

What I want to say now I don’t want to say over the phone, or e-mail, so I am writing this letter. I am writing this because I believe that there is no place for secrets between husband and wife. Please read it carefully and destroy it. For my sake, Please. Read what I have written, think about it carefully…

You know Nishant Vaidya. Of course you do. He works with you in Banglore.

In fact, I came to Nishant’s promotion party in Pune just to see how his boss looked like. I was more interested to know how he is doing in his new job in Banglore and maybe say something good about him. But the thunderbolt struck and we ended saying sweet nothings to each other. I hope no one noticed , about our hush-hush dinner-date the next evening in that lovely romantic garden restaurant.

And about Nishant; we are neighbours ever since I was born. Our families are very close, deeply bonded to each other. We are the dearest of dearest childhood friends, inseparable buddies who grew up together. He has always been my most intimate confidant. I have always told him everything. Except about you – about us. It’s the first time I have hidden something from him. And I’m feeling so guilty about it.Raj, I really like him; But not in that way. He is my friend; actually my buddy but I just can’t imagine him as my lover. Like I can visualize you!

Now brace your heart, Raj!

I am engaged to him. You came late in the party so he actually forgot to mention that I am his fiancée and our wedding date has been fixed on the 20^th of March. Everyone knows about it.This was fixed long back by both our families. Our marriage is a foregone conclusion and implicit happy culmination of our friendship.

I just can’t tell him it will be a terrible betrayal. I can’t break his heart. I don’t have the guts to tell my parents; or his, either. They will be shattered, the hurt very painful and relationships will be strained forever.

So what do we do, Raj?

I have an idea. Why not make Nishant fall in love with someone else?

Raj, why don’t you introduce him to some nice girl out there? Someone- smart and chic, like Aayesha. He is fond of girls like her; I've seen him stealing canny glances at her when he thought I wasn't looking. Right now he is lonely, vulnerable, and I am sure there are many lovely, mod, savvy, attractive women out there in Bangalore who would like him. You've just got to match them and hope for the best.

I want him to call off our engagement. I want him to “break” my heart. It will be better that way, isn't it? For me, for you, and for all of us.

Am I asking too much of you? You like the idea na or Is it too weird? Or can you think of anything better?I am waiting for your reply. Please send me e-mails only. Don’t ring up or write – we have to very careful of hidden ears and curious eyes.

And remember to destroy this letter right now.

Yours lovingly;

Aarti

It was unbelievable. I laughed to myself. I thought I was shrewd, but it was Arati who was playing the double game.

I closed my eyes, and tried to think evidently. It was irrational – a classy snob like Raj Sharma falling for a humdrum Plain Jane like Aarti Joshi! Yes, Love is blind – Love is truly blind! Or, is it?

I never imagined Aarti could be so secretive, so mendacious. It was strange – how close one can be to a person and yet know nothing about her. And Raj Sharma? I worked with him every day, spent hours together, yet knew nothing about him, except that he was brilliant workaholic and a recluse – a most boring and private person who always kept to himself, never mixed around, never socialized or a pain in the neck who everyone avoided and the only thing he ever talked was about work.

Made for each other – two enigmatic loners – Aarti Joshi and Raj Sharma.

Suddenly, I was jolted out of my thoughts by the ring-tone of my cell-phone.

“Hello, may I speak with Mr. Nishant Vaidya” feminine voice popped from other side. “yeah, say” I replied deprecatingly. “Vidhya here” I had no clue who the hell was she. “so?” I replied indecently. But what she said next was enough for me to be concerned about further conversion “I am your boss’s wife Mrs. Raj Sharma”

I muddled “what? I mean I didn’t know that Raj sir is married.”

“Sorry mam what can I do for you?” my tone abruptly turned courteous

“I am coming to Banglore, my flight will board now its 6 hour journey and Raj has told me to contact you to pick me up”.

Another jolt!!! Why me? “ok mam but sir is in Chennai for business meeting” I retorted by hiding my emotions.

“OMG! you are absolutely clueless na? he is in Mumbai now for some urgent meeting. That’s why he had told me to contact you. You gather all information about arrival timings of my flight. I shall recognize you. Raj has mailed me your pics. Ok bye”She hung up hastily. I didn't know how to react.

I tried to analyse the mystifying happenings of this most eventful day of my life. First Aarti’s letter asking Raj to set me up with some chic girl in Banglore so that I call off the marriage, instead of her, become the villain of the piece, take the rap from family and friends and look like a dirty jilting philandering rascal in everyone’s eyes, while Aarti looks the poor victimized wronged all-suffering sanctimonious goody-goody, besides saving her a guilt conscience.

Only, this Mr. Raj Sharma is a dirtier rat one up on her. He’s married, and is obviously hiding this from Aarti, at least till now. And he’s not told his wife about Aarti either, or has he?

And what’s this sudden urgent work in Mumbai which no one in the office has a clue about? Devious cheat, making a jackass of everyone while romancing in Pune at company expense!

Suddenly I felt a premonition – that at this very moment they are together – at some secluded place, having a romantic dinner, or maybe…

In a flash, comprehension dawned on me. Raj was setting me up with his own wife Vidhya! In connivance with his wily lady-love Aarti. It’s truly disgusting! How low can anyone get?

“Okay friends,” I say to Raj and Aarti in my mind’s eye, “you want to play a double game? I’m in. Let’s play!”

I reached the airport well in time and started observing passengers coming out of the arrival gate without being easily seen myself. I recognized her at once without ever having seen her. Stunningly attractive, a real beauty, smashing, sophisticated, elegant; truly chic – my type of woman – optimally designed, precisely engineered and finished to perfection. Suddenly she looked in my direction and realized that I was feasting my eyes on her. At first she gave me stern look, then seeing the frank admiration in my eyes, she melted, her lovely, dark, expressive eyes began to dance and she gave me a smile so captivating that I experienced a delightful twinge in my heart.

“Excuse me,” someone was tapping my shoulder form behind. Exasperatingly I turned around and glared at the podgy pedestrian suburban unpretentious looking homely woman who has disturbed me and snapped angrily, “Yes. What is it?”

“Mr. Nishant Vaidya?” she said grinning like a Cheshire cat, “I am Vidhya Sharma. I told you I’ll recognize you, didn't I?”

I was deflated. Yes, deflated! I’d never felt so deflated before – or since!

She said naughtily, “Aha, Mr. Nishant Vaidya. So you thought that sexy dish over there is me, is it?”

I pivoted round, then back, all confused, and stammered, “No, actually…”

“It’s okay. You’re not the first one to wonder how a handsome hulk like Raj Sharma married a Plain Jane like me,” she says, adjusting the hair pin in her bun.

“No, No…” I again fumbled in acute embarrassment.

She simply smiled.

I said nothing; tried to conjure up a contrived smile of polite geniality.

“We met at IIT. You know how ‘dry’ it used to be out there in IIT, isn’t it? The mirage! The mirage!,” she says as if it is some secret joke, “When you are starved, and thirsty, even a Plain Jane like me looks as if she is a Cleopatra…” she laughed with sheer innocence.

Now I broke out into a genuine friendly smile, amused in my mind’s eye about Raj Sharma’s penchant for Plain Janes.

“Hey, what are you thinking?” Vidhya said, “Come, let’s collect my baggage and go home.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” I said, remembering she was my boss’s wife.

“Hey, don’t ‘Ma’am’ me!” she commanded, “My name is Vidhya. And I’ll call you Nishant.”

Soon we sat in my car and I began driving towards my house nearby in Veenapuri.

We reached my apartment and I looked at the wall clock – it’s almost three in the morning. “If you want to sleep you can sleep on the bed…” I said.

“Hey, I’m dying for a cup of coffee, then I’ll bathe, and then we’ll see – we've got the full day ahead of us,” she said, walking towards the kitchenette.

She really made wonderful coffee. We sat down and talked. She was easy to talk to and my words came tumbling out. I told her everything about myself, well, almost everything!

“Any love life?” she asked with a naughty conspiratorial look in her laughing eyes, at once inviting and taunting.

“No,” I said, “And you?”

“I told you – Raj, Raj, Raj! That’s all. And a long distance marriage, pining for him, hoping that absence makes our hearts go fonder!”

I remained silent, not knowing what to say.

“Nishant, I like you,” she suddenly said with undisguised affection in her eyes.

“Like me?” I said nonplussed.

“Yes. After a long time I’ve met someone with whom I can be myself.”

“Me too,” I genuinely said. I felt a soft tenderness for her, a warm feeling of elation, but I quickly checked my thoughts and hastily said “You’ll like to have a nice hot shower, won’t you?” for I believed that thoughts could transmit themselves if they are strong enough.

She nodded so I pointed toward bathroom.

She came out, freshly bathed, wearing a slim nightie that was so revealing that she might as well have worn nothing, but she conveyed such innocence that it is obvious that she has no inkling of this. She looked so pure, so pristine, so desirable, and I realized that she’s not that plain looking at all, in fact, she was quite appealing, sensuous in a natural sort of way.

By instinct, and almost against my will, my eyes linger, travel all over her body. The transformation in her is amazing. Now she looks so wonderful, so feminine, so tender, so alluring, and so new – a woman in full bloom.

“I've become a little plump sitting on my haunches all day,” she said candidly, without a trace of coyness, throwing away the towel wrapped around her head, letting her luxuriant hair fall on her shoulders. She looked so tantalizing that I felt a moment of alarm. Maybe we are unthinkingly beginning something dangerous…so I blurted out, “I’ll have a shower too,” and rushed towards the bathroom.

When I came out of bathroom , I perceived Vidhya reading Aarti’s ludicrous “love letter” to Raj Sharma.

Oh, my God! I cursed myself. What a careless fool I had been to let those letters lie on the table.

Suddenly she turned and looked at me in incredulous despair.

“I can’t believe this,” Vidhya moaned, “It’s horrible,” she sobbed, “Everything’s collapsed like a pack of cards,” she cried, “I invested my life in two things – my marriage and my career –and look what I’ve got in return? My marriage is a shame and my job – the two things I banked on, both have jilted me, and all I am left with is myself.”

“Your career? Your job? What happened?”

“It’s terrible,I’m going through a very rough patch. Last week I was demoted , my junior promoted over my head,” she paused, wiped her nose, “And I this so-called conference at the Head Office in London – it’s all a masquerade. I have a feeling they are going to fire me, give me termination letter, have an exit interview, settle my dues and tell me to go home, I’m feeling so down, I thought I’ll stop over, talk things over with Raj, find some solace in his arms, plan our future, and see what happens! He does this!” she sobbed holding out the letter.

“Maybe you can talk to him, patch up…”

“Patch up…?” she scorned mockingly, “A relationship in which the seeds of distrust have been sown – such a relationship, I think it is better to sever it, break it, terminate it permanently, than try to patch it up, isn't it?”

I moved my hands, wanting to take her into my arms, consoled her, but with hesitance not knowing what to do…

“I’ll never forgive him for this, for betraying me so terribly when I needed him the most,” she screamed, and then suddenly her flaming red eyes looked at me with such furious distress that I thought she had gone raving mad.

“Why didn't you tell me?” she asked hoarsely, waving the letter. I saw tears trickling down her cheeks. She covered her face with her hands, wildly shook her head, disheveling her hair.

I tried to comfort her by touching her shoulder. She flashed her eyes at me through the tangled strands of her hair, and suddenly the blazing fury in her eyes collapsed into incredulous despair.

“I loved him so much! Why did he do this to me, why did he do this…?” she shrieked hysterically, wildly clutching my arms, totally breaking down, her knees giving way.

I grabbed her, held her tight, and she slumped forward into my arms. Then she stared in my eyes, yearning, thirsty, ravishing. And suddenly, naturally, instinctively, it happened. The most spontaneous, natural, beautiful and passionate experience of my life. Spur of the moment, unplanned, unforeseen frenzied love. Like a volcano.

It was wonderful, lovely, exquisite. I was cherished. But what about her? Vidhya? Is it spontaneous love? An explosion of fiery pent up passion? Or is it an act of frenzy, rage, expiation?

I gradually came into consciousness, my eyes heavy, my body overwhelmed by the pleasurable sensation of lethargy in the aftermath of passion. Everything looked blurred and slowly Vidhya’s face came into focus.

“Vidhya. I’m so…”

She gently put her hand on my mouth and said, “It was lovely.” Then she lovingly ruffled my hair with her fingers. I closed my eyes, snuggled up to her, and let her ruffled my hair. The emotion that came to me was compassion for what we had done..

It’s almost noon by the time we were ready. We've still got most of the weekend ahead of us.

“What shall we do?” I ask Vidhya, “Movie, shopping, sightseeing…whatever you want...”

“Let’s disappear,” Vidhya said roguishly.

“Disappear?”

“Yes, Nishant, let’s just disappear, vanish into thin air, where no one will find us.”

“Where?”

“Anywhere, far away from this throttling life. Come Nishant, let’s head for the hills, breathe some new pure fresh air, cleanse the cobwebs, the demons from our minds.”

“I’ll cancel my flight to London” She called up exactly did what she stated few minutes ago. And smashed her cell phone.

She took my cell phone and switched it off by saying “To hell with the world - let them stew in suspense.”

“What about these?” I pointed to the two letters lying on the table – My letter to Arati, and Aarti’a pathetic love letter to Raj, tear-stained, crumpled.

Vidhya opened my letter to Aarti just tore it up, shredded it to pieces.“What…?” I shouted.“This flotsam and jetsam; memories of betrayal – better get rid of it,” she said, shredding the other letter too. “No point carrying useless painful baggage of the past.”

“Come,” she uttered taking my hand, “Let’s get away from all this. Be free. We both need to breathe some fresh air.”

And so we disappeared.

At sunset we sat together, all by ourselves on the precipice, relishing the breathtaking spectacle of the delightful dance of the panoply of colors on the awesome vista in front of us as the soothing orange sun plays hide-and-seek behind the snow capped peaks of the Himalayas, and then disappearing below the horizon and lighting up sky with vanishing crimson rays, streaks slowly dissolving in the enveloping grayness of twilight.

I felt wonderful, my spirits uplifted, my head in the clouds after savoring this inspiring soul-elevating feast for the eyes, I turned towards Vidhya, cupped her face in my hands and drown myself deep into her eyes. I could sense her finger-tips caressing the nape of my neck. The debris of the past has disappeared and a fresh new life was about to begin....

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