Chapter 8

twerping

@twerping

Vandita seemed to be positively glowing in her blue saree. Ishita smiled and joined the happy soul. Everyone else had already gone down to the society hall where the evening's festivities were to be held. As the two of them traipsed down the stairs, they were joined by Pammi aunty from the third floor.

"Arrey, aaj toh Iyer bahus are looking like they want to give all the men heart attacks!" Pammi jokingly called out.

"Why Pammi aunty?" Vandita said innocently. "Are we looking that frightening?"

"Atom bombs lag rahi ho tum dono!" Pammi replied, widening her eyes for effect.

Kakkad uncle was singing a love ballad only slightly off-key when Ishita walked into the community hall.

Raman was sitting dutifully next to his father as Pammi Aunty's husband regaled them with stories of his grandson's achievements. He allowed the words to wash over him as his eyes remained trained on the door of the hall for the appearance of a certain someone. He was nodding with a pasted smile at something supposedly funny that had been said when she entered the room. Raman didn't know what went through him on seeing the woman. It was sudden and it was intense. She was wearing something red. That was all he knew. As she moved through the room and came to a halt in a place as far away from him as was humanly possible, he gave up even trying to pretend to listen to Nitish uncle.

Ishita looked around the room and spotted her mother-in-law sitting in a group with the other ladies. In one corner, stood Subbu alongwith Bala. They were deeply engrossed in a conversation with an elderly gentleman. Suddenly, a pair of small arms hugged her from behind. Looking down, she found Ruhi dressed in a purple salwar suit. 

'Ishita aunty, there's an ice cream stall near the gate', announced the child without further preamble. 

Ishita had to laugh at this. "You want ice cream, do you?"

Ruhi nodded, mischief dancing in her eyes.

"Have you asked Daadi if it's alright to have ice cream now?"

Ruhi raced towards her grandmother to get her permission.

Ishita was happy enough to stand next to her sister-in-law and watch the crowd but such simple joys were destined to be short-lived. Soon they were joined by a few young ladies among their acquaintance. These women did not go out of their way to snub Ishita. They did not need to. The conversation was about their children and the problems they were facing in school. Ishita stood there, as the mothers debated about present tutors, potential ones, summer camps and karate classes. So when Ruhi returned and tugged at her hand, Ishita breathed a sigh of relief and the two headed out. 

Ruhi was swinging on her hand as they walked towards the ice cream vendor when a man stepped forward and stood in their way.

"Ruhi, where are you going?" Raman asked, placing his phone back in his pocket.

"We are going to have ice cream," declared Ruhi, looking nervously at Ishita. She had gotten the permission from Daadi after a lot of difficulty. And now Papa was here and he would most definitely pour water all over her plans.

However, Raman did not bring forth his usual over-protective paternal instincts in this case. He smiled and said, "Wait, I'll get the ice cream for you." And then casting a glance towards Ishita, he turned around and walked briskly towards the gate. Ishita shivered. There was something in that quick glance that made her breath hitch. Uncomfortably she decided that as soon as the man returned with the ice cream, she would take her leave from both the father as well as the daughter. 

Raman returned but he was carrying not one but two cups of ice cream. He handed one to Ruhi who squealed, "Strawberry!!! My favourite!!"

Before Ishita could utter any of the excuses she had come up with, Raman handed the other cup to her. Surprised, Ishita looked down at her hand. She was holding a cup of blackcurrant ice cream, her favourite. She glanced at him. Raman Kumar Bhalla was at that moment bending down to allow Ruhi to feed him a bit of her ice cream. 

"Umm," she began, "I didn't really want to get ice cream for myself."

"Oh!" replied Raman, refusing to meet her eyes and instead smiling down at his daughter. 

"Here, you take it" Ishita told him, trying to hand the bowl back to him. 

"But I don't like blackcurrant. Ruhi had mentioned you liked it, so..." said Raman, trying to look innocent."You can throw it away if you don't want it." he added.

Without replying, Ishita lifted a spoonful and tasted it. She did not want to be rude. Ruhi by then was lost to the world in her focus on the ice cream. Ishita took another spoonful, and allowed the delicious cream to melt in her mouth. As she placed her spoon back into the cup, she gave a guilty smile towards Raman. "Thanks," she said. Ishita wasn't used to sudden gestures of kindness and somewhere deep within, she felt a rare kind of joy. Unknown to her, her eyes sparkled and the smile on her face shone with a genuine warmth. 

"If only I had liked that flavour, you might have not gotten to taste it," Raman joked. There was something about her frank behaviour that gave him a pleasure that had nothing to do with his plans to win her attentions. He watched her take another spoonful. A bit of the ice cream settled on her lower lip. She licked it off and he couldn't help himself. Reaching forward, he picked up her spoon and scooping a bit of the ice cream, he smiled at her with a pretended nonchalance before placing the spoon of ice cream in his mouth. 

"No, blackcurrant is definitely not my favourite." he said, looking at Ishita's surprised face. 

"Sorry, I'll get you another spoon. The way you were digging into the bowl, I thought maybe this was a particularly good version of the flavour." 

Then giving her a grin, he quickly left her with the excuse of getting her a spoon. Ishita watched his retreating back with a stunned look on her face.
...

As the evening progressed, Ishita watched the assembled crowd slowly lose their sobriety. The Iyers along with a couple of other families were the only ones who weren't drinking. As the singing grew increasingly soulful and tuneless, Ishita looked around for her husband. She spotted Subbu standing in one corner watching Bhatia uncle try to persuade his wife to join him in dancing. 

For some reason, Ishita felt a heightened desire to be around her husband. Something in the familiar manner in which Raman Bhalla had behaved with her had disturbed her. She needed Subbu now. It was as if she felt herself to be in uncertain waters all of a sudden and needed the familiar solidity that Subbu had to offer. Once she reached him, she wished he would speak to her, maybe comment on the antics of their neighbours or complain about feeling sleepy. She needed him.

 
"Where did you get this saree?" Subbu asked her as she joined him.

Ishita looked at him in surprise. She did not really expect her wish to be fulfilled so quickly. Pammi Aunty's words rang in her ears. Did he like her saree? It wasn't everyday that Subbu showed any interest in what she was wearing.

Her eyes shone as she replied. "This was a wedding present, don't you remember?" Her voice was soft.
He brought his face close to her ear. She felt every syllable of the whispered words he uttered. 
"Who are you trying to charm coming here in that saree? Can't you even wear something decent?"
Horrified, Ishita could barely look at him. Her face was now red. Her cheeks felt hot. Tears sprang in her eyes. She wrapped the end of the saree around her shoulder and stood there even after Subbu had moved away.

...

Raman watched Neelu carry away a drowsy Ruhi. Tired after dancing with her Rinki bua, Ruhi had been finally persuaded to go to sleep by none other than her Ishita aunty. He had accompanied his daughter to their apartment and then handed her over to Neelu. Ruhi fell asleep even before she could be placed on the bed.

After attending a few phone calls and answering a couple of urgent emails, Raman returned to the venue. He observed that the drinks had begun to show their effect on the gathering. He watched his mother try to sing a few lines of a popular folk song. She was joined by others who were, by all appearances, feeling equally musically inclined.

His eyes searched for Ishita even as he walked towards his family members, feeling a flush of warm affection for them. He spotted her standing next to her husband. As he watched, Subramaniam Iyer brought his face close to her ears and said something. It shouldn't have made any difference and yet Raman felt like he had been struck by a bolt of lightning. He wished he hadn't come down. He watched with a morbid fascination as a blush rose on those cheeks. What words of love had that bas***d told her to make her blush and hide her face? Raman wanted to drag her away from that man. He wanted to lock her up so that husband of hers could never come near her again. He wanted to...
Raman turned around abruptly and walked out. The irrational anger coursing through his veins worried him.

Instead of going back to his flat, Raman walked into the storeroom at the end of the hall. It was full of odds and ends and had dust and cobwebs hanging from the walls. But it was empty and dark and he needed a smoke.

...

Ishita stood for a while, tears blurring her vision, trying desperately to blink them away. And then she could no more. She had to get out of there. With quick stumbling steps, she made her way out of the hall. Laughter and song wafted to her ears as she choked down a sob. The storeroom stood open before her. She quickly entered the room and shut the door behind her. Then leaning against the wall, she allowed the tears to flow. Sobbing freely she cried out, "Appa!" Body heaving, she sank down on the floor and knew not how long she cried as she hugged herself. The darkness gave her comfort and she sat there, not minding the dust or the cobwebs.