Verbosity (Ansh/SagUn OS/FF thread) - New chap on page 9 - Page 5

Chapter 3

Pratishtha? This one? Whatever happened to the minx?? Unable to stop himself staring, Sid watched as the seemingly sedate 'Pratishtha' threw herself in a flying tackle at Bhoomiji. "Bapusa!" As Sid watched stunned, Bhoomiji wrapped his arms around the petite frame in a bear hug before holding her away for a toe to top overview. "Pratishtha, you are looking awesome... so young and beautiful." Chirping merrily, "Kuch bhi <anything> Bapusa! You know I look like a skeleton in a sari. It's difficult to hold the whole rigmarole up!" Giving her a gentle shake, Bhoomiji smiled, "Don't fish for compliments, darling. You know you are the most gorgeous girl in the world!" Almost swallowing his tongue, Sid just about stopped himself from verbalizing his concurrence. The thick mass of hair caressing the swan-like curve of her neck. The pink glow of good health on her cheeks. The baby-like, yet seductive, lips, almost always upturned in a smile. The crepe sari closely following the dips and curves of her petite, yet ripe, body...

"Siddhanth...? Catching himself, Siddhant turned to a pair of sternly enquiring eyes, "Sir?" "Meet my daughter, Siddhant..." "Pratishtha," murmured Sid. "What's this? You know each other?" said Sumita, Bhoomi Singh's hitherto silent wife, looking in amazement from one to the other. "Not know, but met!" both said almost simultaneously. "Ma, Sid sahib and I met at Makhan Kaka's shop. His car broke down there." "You gave him a lift, in that claptrap you call a car?" almost shrieked Geeta, Bikramji's wife, "maasa, iss ladki ka kuch karo!" <maasa, do something about this girl> Unperturbed, Prats stuck out her hand to a bemused Sid, "Hey, let's reintroduce ourselves. I'm Pratishtha, Bhoomi Singhji's daughter." Shaking her hand, "Hello Pratishtha, nice to have 'finally' met you." Sotto voice, he added, "You knew all along, and still let me make a fool of myself. Wait till I get you."

With a flirtatious twitch of her hips, she flounced off to sit next to maasa. It was apparent that the whole family adored her, and she reveled in that fact. As dinner started, Sid shared the experiences of the day with the Singhs, omitting several key facts. Every time he glanced in 'her' direction, he was chagrined to note that she was busy elsewhere. "Ignore me all you want, princess! I'm sure going to get you!" As he turned back to the conversation, he saw Bhoomiji watching him with a shrewd look in his eyes. "Uh, oh! Let's watch my step here, Sid babu; else..." As dinner drew to a close, Bhoomiji suggested that the men withdrew to the library for an after-dinner drink. The ladies were left behind to do what ladies did the best - chatter about the new, handsome guest.

"So, tell me Siddhant, what is your proposal?" "Well sir, you know that after years of dabbling in chemicals, electronics, and telecommunication, I am now involved in a farm-to-shelf agricultural model. I want to ensure a direct path between the farmer and the buyer, eliminating the middlemen. I also run an Internet shop, taking orders from consumers and connecting them to suppliers directly. I have made all the money I need, and decided that I need to work for society now. After getting the basics in place, I realized that there is a huge market for organic food. So far, I have been sourcing things from various places. However, the demand far exceeds the supply. We need to grow the stuff ourselves. My research shows that you have the only huge stretch of land near Jaipur that has been organically farmed so far. My plan is, if you agree, sir, sell produce from here as 'organically grown,' and then get all the products certified as 'organic,' one at a time.

Leaning back in his chair, Bhoomiji said, "Hmm, I see. But what is our role in this? We have neither the time nor the interest so far. We have a spare 100 acres though..." Leaning forward in excitement, Sid said, "Exactly sir! I plan on offering you a fixed remuneration per acre per month - much beyond what you are earning so far - plus a cut on the returns. I know you don't need the money, but think of the good you will do society - fresh, healthy food to their doorsteps. And I will employ professionals to do everything - growing, packing, distribution, everything... You will not be bothered by the details. If you do agree on this in principle, my people will get in touch with your office to iron out the details..."

"OK, what say, bhai? Should we look into this? It's a new and interesting concept..." Bikramji nodded, "Haan, haan, kyon nahin? <Yes, why not?> Let's explore this further. Bhoomiji smiled and standing up, shook Sid's hand, "Let's take this further, Sid (can I call you that?). It's wonderful seeing young people who have such brilliant and novel ideas." As the night waned, the three talked about their businesses, their ups and downs, finding a common vein in their zeal to help society. As Bikramji finally gave up, "Good night both of you, I am really sleepy." "OK bhai, we will also retire in a few minutes. You carry on." In the lull that followed Bikram's departure, Bhoomi softly inserted, "By the way, Sid, I have one more thing to say." "Ask away, Bhoomiji... I am all ears."

"Son, I saw the way you were looking at my daughter today." Wishing the earth would open up and swallow him, Sid jumped to his feet. "No sir! Its nothing like that!" "Well son, my hair has not turned grey in the sun. I can see chemistry where it exists. And I can spot trouble before it arrives." As Sid tried to break into the conversation, Bhoomi raised a hand. "Let me speak. You are attracted to Pratishtha. I don't blame you for that. She is like the flame, attracting all the moths to her. But alas, the fate of the moth is to die. There is no future in it, son. She is not for you..."

Intrigued, Sid said, "Why so, sir? How can you be so confident that I don't have a chance? I am young, handsome, and eligible. I think I can woo her!" Bhoomi burst into a roar of laughter, "Glad that you admitted your attraction, son. I don't like liars. Anyway, the problem is not with you... you are a mighty fine catch. The problem is Pratishtha; she will not return your attraction. I wish she would, but she can't. "Why can't she sir? Is she already committed somewhere? I don't recall seeing a ring or anything..."

Bhoomi sighed, "No son. Pratishtha is not committed anywhere. There is no problem there. The problem is her history."

Chapter 5

The door slammed open, a once-again shorts-clad Prats filling their line of vision. "Bapusa, don't you know its 2 am?? I kept waiting to chat with you and ma, but, yahaan, aap to gappe lada rahe ho! <You are busy gassing!> Anyway, you go to sleep now, I am going home… Will see you tomorrow morning for breakfast!" As Sid sat in surprise, father and daughter hugged tight, exchanged good night kisses, and with a final flick of her hand at him, Prats was off. Scooting forward, "Errm, can I drop you off? Its la…" Catching sight of Bhoomiji shaking his head vigorously, Sid piped down, sinking back in his seat. Prats tossed a last wink at him and scooted out the door.

As the roar of Dhanno faded into the night, Sid leaned forward to ask curiously, "Going home? Where home? Doesn't she live here? Or do she and Jagan…?" Smiling at the eager beaver in front of him, Bhoomiji said, "No, she doesn't stay anywhere Sid. She is a sprite, travelling around the countryside at her will. No one can hold on to her. Even when she is in Jaitser (sometimes even for months, if that's what she wants), she stays in Neeli Kothi, her father's house. She does have all her meals with us, though…"

As Sid pondered how to get the story to continue, Bhoomiji said, "Well, its late, but since I don't want to keep you hanging, let me quickly wrap up my pitiful tale for you. Hmm, where were we? Oh yes, we got our children married. Truth be told, Jagan didn't want the marriage at all… Pratishtha didn't mind; she went with the flow. She was too young, numb with the quick loss of her parents, and yes, so much in love with her Jagan – her childhood hero. My promise to her father and the fear of keeping two unrelated teens in our house dictated that they HAD to be married. So, they were. Time moved on. We kept them as separate as possible. But, they still played together as they did as children. Only, Jagan started acting as a beend <husband>, bringing small gifts for her – bangles, rings, clothes… We thought it would all work out in the end."

"Pratishtha finished her 10^th and Jagan his 12^th. Although Pratishtha was more intelligent than Jagan, she had kind of accepted that she was a wife; she opted for Arts, planning to get into Home Sciences later. Jagan put his foot down. He wanted to study medicine, and that too in Mumbai. We wanted him to study in Jaipur, somewhere close to home. But surprisingly, Pratishtha supported his logic that amenities were better in Mumbai. So, under their combined pressure, we relented and Jagan left. We watched as Pratishtha's smile dimmed the minute she waved goodbye. She slowly turned more sober, waiting only for his once-a-week phone calls and his half-yearly visits. That was the only time this house rang with the peals of her laughter, as earlier. She finished her education at the same time as Jagan finished his medicine. Jagan came home before his results. We decided that now was the time that the two should become husband and wife in reality. We offered them a honeymoon abroad, but while Pratishtha blushed profusely, Jagan was reluctant. He had some work in Mumbai, it seemed…"

"But why? Why was Jagan reluctant about a honeymoon? If I had been in his place…" Ducking his head in embarrassment at Bhoomiji's sharp look, Sid murmured, "Sorry sir!" "Hmm, Bhoomiji continued, "After much cajoling, Jagan agreed to take her along with him. We booked them into the Taj Mahal Hotel, expecting the very best for our children. We didn't call them for five days after they left, not wanting to disturb them… On the sixth day, we opened the door at 6 am and found a different Pratishtha at our doorstep. Washed out, finally dry eyed, unkempt, no bags on her… As Pratishtha collapsed into Sumita's arms, I frantically called Jagan, but his phone was switched off."

Unable to understand the sudden rage that swept through his body at the very thought of a sad Prats, Sid got up to pace the room. Watching him with knowing eyes, Bhoomi said, "Let me not go into details but in the upshot, when I finally got through to Jagan, he asked for a divorce. And to our amazement, Pratishtha agreed. We were never told exactly what transpired in those 5 days, but we broke all ties with Jagan. The divorce went through by mutual consent in six months. Those were trying times. Our chidakli never chirped once during that time; and it broke our hearts to see her sad face all the time. For her own good, we decided to send her away. The day after the divorce came through, I handed her the admission papers to Lady Sriram College in Delhi. It was a two-year course in Social Service. Though she was extremely hesitant, maasa and the rest of us convinced her she could do a lot of good for Jaitser once she did this course. So, she went. I arranged a hostel accommodation for her, and we all went to visit her once a month."

"Six months after she went, two things happened, Jagan got married to a fellow doctor in Mumbai – Kangan, and the smile reappeared in Pratishtha's eyes. Every time we went, she seemed different – her smile back, her head held higher, her shoulders straighter. Her laughter started filling our hearts once again. Her clothes changed too. From lehengas and salwar kameezes, she changed slowly to jeans, dresses, and finally shorts. Maasa and the ladies objected at first, but she slowly opened their eyes to the modern world too. She also arranged a reconciliation between us and Jagan and his wife. Our loving Pratishtha was back… the soul was back in our lives."

Sid sat back smiling, "So, now what's the issue? Only her clothes changed, didn't they?" Shaking his head morosely, Bhoomiji said, "I wish! When she came back to Jaitser after two years, she shocked us by opening up her own home. She said she didn't want to hurt us, but this was Jagan's house after all. How could she stay here without creating awkwardness for all of us? She loved us all dearly, would eat all meals with us, but would stay in her own home. She started an NGO – Naveena – a place that would provide avenues for the growth of women. She started travelling a lot, reaching out to downtrodden women everywhere, helping them become financially independent. We didn't know when she would be home. But, we were her parents and she is always in touch on the phone, and is always there for all important occasions, even for Jagan's son – Manohar's birthdays! However, what changed most importantly is Pratishtha herself. She does not allow herself to love anyone apart from me, Sumita, Bikram bhai, Geeta, Nandish, and maasa. Her heart is full 'of" love, but she cannot love. And oh yes, she has sworn off marriage."

As Sid sat stupefied - sworn off marriage? But why? How?? Anyway, why was he so bothered? He didn't want to marry a girl he had met just yesterday, did he? Or did he?? Bhoomiji smiled and got up. "Time to put these weary old bones to bed son. And yes, you might be wondering why I told you – a relative stranger – all this. I see that you like her Sid, and quite a bit at that. And my gut tells me that you have what it takes to bring my delicate darling out of her shell. Try your best to open her heart if your intentions are halfway decent. Teach her how to love again. However, if you only intend a one-night stand, don't even try. I, or she, will have you for breakfast."

Chapter 6

Following Bhoomiji up the stairs, Sid slowed as he came to the first picture in the stairwell – Bhoomiji as a young man, with another man, who must have been Prats dad; the resemblance was so unmistakable. The next was a young, effervescent, pre-teen Prats in a group hug with Bhoomiji in his prime, Sumitaji, and a young, mischievous-looking boy, who must be Jagan. Then another of the foursome, with Prats, aged around 12, looking slightly sad around the eyes. As he moved slowly upstairs, he saw the years slip by, with the chubby-cheeked young girl transforming into a younger version of the Prats he met yesterday. Some had a few of the Singhs, some had all of them. But there was one thing in common, Prats stared adoringly at Jagan in each; though he obviously did not share the same affiliation.

Finally, the one he wanted to see – Prats in her wedding finery; deep red lehenga choli, chubby cheeks stained with a rosy blush, jewelry heavier than herself. Like a cute little caterpillar about to bloom, she looked ecstatic and scared shitless at the same time. The groom looked mutinous, unhappy with the finery, and longing to slaughter someone. As a silly smile slipped past his lips, Sid moved on to another family photo where Jagan sat in his doctors' coat, with Prats – now an adult – glowing at the camera. As he moved further, Jagan disappeared from the photos, with Prats looking a shadow of her former self. The smile had disappeared along with Jagan. Her eyes were dead. Her interest in herself had waned.

Then the tide turned again, there were snaps of Prats in Delhi, along with the Singhs. The clothes changed gradually, the smile started broadening, and the twinkle in her eyes glowed brighter. Stopping in front of the last one – Jagan and Kangan with their arms around Prats, who held a cute two-year-old snuggled against her. Sighing deeply, Sid pondered the mystery that was Prats; at least one layer had been revealed to him. Entering his room, he slowly started disrobing, dropping things slowly here and there as he walked to the jharoka <window>. Looking out, he peered desperately in the general direction of where he presumed the Neeli Haveli was. Exactly there was a small twinkling light in the distance. As he watched, peering into the darkness as if he would actually see her, the light switched off. "One more day of aloneness, Prats! I AM going to get you…"

As night turned to dawn, Sid, who had probably slept the deepest he had in a long while, woke with the widest smile possible. As he turned over onto his stomach, he heard the by-now-familiar chug of Dhanno. "Oh shit! She's here so early?!" Almost tripping over himself, he ran pell-mell for the washroom. Sticking his head under the shower for a split second and freshening himself up as quick as he could, he ran for the door clad in blue jeans and a white stiffly laundered shirt. Racing down the steps, he slowed at the last bend – the entire Singh family was gathered around Prats, making a tremendous fuss over her.

"Good morning Sid sahib!" chirped Prats, "good to see you are an early riser. Great, we can breakfast together, and then I leave." Sid was so lost in eyeing her trim jean-and-kurti-clad picture that it took a second to register. "Leaving? Where for? You just got here…" Maasa laughed, "Come on kids, let's eat first. I have made Pratishtha's favorite jalebis." Bhoomiji clapped Sid on the hand, "Let's eat. I will describe what you proposed last night while eating." At Sid's askance look, he roared with laughter, "organic farming son, organic farming…"

As they sat down to eat, Bhoomiji explained Sid's proposal to everyone. Sid waited impatiently for that conversation to be over before he blurted out, "where are you going, Prats." Looking surprised, as if she'd forgotten his initial question, Prats errmed, "Well, you know I have an NGO, right? Every now and then, I tour the neighboring villages to see the issues that face the ladies in those areas, spread awareness of the job-work opportunities my NGO offers – embroidery, glass and beadwork, teaching, home-made food products, etc. In fact I feel that this time I might just be able to talk a bit about organic farming…" "Uh, don't you think I might be able to explain better, Prats?" interjected Sid.

As Prats stared in shock, Bhoomiji nudged his wife (with whom he had shared last night's conversation) and piped up. "That's a good idea, Sid. Pratishtha is not very aware of the nitty-gritties. Maybe you can go along until Prats is educated enough to explain." Sid jumped at the opportunity, "Yeah, I'll hitch a ride with you and stay in whatever hotels you do." Prats tossed her hair out of the way and smirked slightly, "I stay wherever the mood grabs me, Sid. Come on out, I'll show you my gear."

As they all trooped out, Sid stuttered to a stop. There was a huge caravan hitched to the back of the Gypsy. "That's it, Sid. That's my home for when I am on the road. If you really want to, I can take the bedroom area, and you can take the sofa… it converts into a bed. But all the rules are mine. And I disembark all those who don't follow my rules!" Caught in his own trap now, Sid mumbled, "Sir, maasa, I hope you don't mind." Maasa tittered, "No son. Why should we? You seem to be from a good family and we trust Pratishtha anyway! She can handle herself and you…" Looking around for help, Sid said, I need to get some stuff. I have only a day's worth of luggage with me. How long do you plan to be away?"

Prats winked, "Maybe a day, maybe a week, or maybe even a month! Who knows?" "A month!!! You can't be serious!" "Join me for as long as you want, Sid. I will have no objections to your deplaning early… As for stuff, uff, you can buy that anywhere." Seeing the mischievous smile lighting her eyes, Sid was trapped once again, "Let me get my stuff…" "You have exactly 10 minutes, or this rig takes off without you!" Hearing the steely determination in her voice, Sid made a run for the bedroom while Prats made her adieus.

As he dashed back down in 9.5 minutes, he barely had time to say his farewells and thank everyone before Prats, fingers drumming on the steering wheel, stomped on the gas! "Come on, Sid. Times a-wasting!" Barely able to hop on in time, he turned in his seat to sling his stuff into the backseat, only to come nose to nose with the biggest bullmastiff he had ever seen. "Hey Sid, meet Sultan, my best pal!

Chapter 7

Fumbling to grab Prats arm, "Errrm, did you know there is a monster in the back of your jeep?" Seeing the line of drool dripping from the monster's jaws, Sid almost didn't feel the puny fist in his midriff. "Sid sahib, shhh. You'll offend Sultan's feelings; he is terribly emotional. Did you think babusa would let me go off alone without ANY protection? This is Sultan, best bud, protector extraordinaire, and a goof ball! He is my constant companion." Pushing Sid aside and pulling up at the wayside, she leaned across to throw her arms around Sultan's neck. "Who's a good boy now? Mere shone-mona <untranslatable Indian words of endearment>, dosti kar lo, ye zakhm hamare saath hi chal rahe hain <make friends, this pest is going to be with us for this ride>. Peppering Sultan's face with kisses, while (unsuccessfully) evading the slobbering tongue that returned the kisses with gusto, she turned a glowing face to Sid, "There, I've told him. You've nothing to fear now!"

Watching in bemusement, Sid took the calloused hand that Sultan proffered, without even realizing what had happened. Was he actually jealous of this giant beast? The camaraderie and love that Prats offered him? And the barrage of kisses exchanged? Well, it was shameful to admit it, but he so was! He wanted to be the ONE! Mentally giving himself a shake, he turned to belt himself in securely. As Prats restarted the jeep, she switched on the CD player at full volume. Wincing at the Battameez Dil belting out across the countryside, he settled back to study the pixie-ish profile next to him; it was clear that conversation was not expected nor appreciated.

Reaching the outskirts of a tiny village about two hours later, Prats finally acknowledged his presence. "Sid sahib, this is Narayapur, a small kasba <smaller than a village>. Living conditions are poor here, with the local girls having to travel by foot for an hour before they reach the nearest school. Ladies fetch water from a step well a mile away! Our first stop is here." Drawing up outside the 'best' house of the kasba, she leaped down, "Anyone home? Pradhanji? <village head> Aapki Pratishtha ayee hai. <Your Pratishtha is here.> As soon as she said those words, people started emerging from the surrounding hutments. Children, women, and men alike. The excitement in the village was palpable. Kids clamored for Prats attention, some trying to clamber up her front. Women reached out to caress her cheeks and hair. Old men beamed at the pretty young girl in front of them. Was this their pity for an abandoned wife or love for one of their own?

As things settled down, Prats introduced Sid as a person who was interested in developing the region, both for his own benefit and that of the region. As people gave him doubtful looks, Prats smiled gently at both him and the villagers and went to fetch something from the camper. The villagers laid out some charpoys <rough beds> and Prats took reign over one. Lifting a specially assembled kit, she started demonstrating the latest stitches that were the rage amongst tourists these days. Handing out a plain bedcover to each lady, she made them promise that they would finish embroidering them by the next time she came around. Rs 500 was promised as the remuneration for each properly finished piece. She then talked to the kids about their studies, handing out some books that they were supposed to share. She spoke to the elders about their ailments and distributed a few staple medicines. Picking up a toddler who had fallen down, she tenderly applied turmeric on the boo boo, crooning soothing words into her ears. Was this a girl who couldn't love?

Finally Sid got his chance to speak about his dream project, about the need to go organic. About how to make land 'organic-ready.' And how it would benefit the farmers monetarily in the long run. Prats listened too, impressed despite herself. He was not just a pretty face mounted on an awesomely hot body! He had a keen brain, with the desire to go to the top, taking people along with him. The villagers were halfway convinced at the end of his discussion and he closed by promising that he would come himself later or send his people to demonstrate some of the methods. As some of the elders gathered around to discuss things with him, Prats helped the ladies to make rotis <flattened bread>, which was served to them with chutney, onions, and a potato-based curry. As they sat cross-legged on the floor, on a dhuri <home-stitched carpet>, his appetite amazed him! Being out in the open, with a hyperactive minx seemed to have sharpened his mind and his taste buds!

The entire process was repeated at one more village, with the only conversation exchanged between the two being, "Sid sahib mat kaho na!" <Please don't call me Sid sahib> I am Sid to my friends. She only answered with a distracted, "Hmm..." As they munched on an evening meal that was much the same as the afternoon's, Sid pondered the fast-approaching night. Was it possible to request her to park near a hotel on the highway, so he could spend the night there? Much to his chagrin, about a couple of kilometers from the village, near a truckers dhaba, Prats said, "OK SID, let's retire for the night. Am too tired now." "Here? Where will we park?" asked Sid in astonishment! "Right here, Sid, in front of the dhaba. It's the safest place, with the dhaba being ope all nigh!"

Sighing morosely, preparing himself, Sid jumped off Dhanno, closely followed by Sultan, who had royally ignored him so far, contenting himself by placing his massive jowls on Prats shoulder while she drove. As Prats rounded the corner, the three of them stood at the bottom of the steps leading to the still-darkened door of the camper.

Chapter 8

Ruffling Sultan's head, Prats walked up the stairs to open the door. "Welcome to my humble abode, Sid sahib, oops Sid!" Flinging her slippers into a small shoe rack right at the entrance, she walked into the depths of the caravan. Baring his teeth at Sid just a bit, Sultan leaped in too. Looking heavenwards for succor, Sid followed with trepidation. Just as he reached the last step, the interior of the caravan lit up.

Peeping in with awe, Sid realized that the caravan was a far cry from Dhanno! The fore area had a long sofa at one end, which probably pulled out into a single bed. The other end had a single, plush chair, laden with cushions. On the wall hung a miniscule TV that could be viewed from both sofas. Beyond was a tiny kitchenette, with washbasin, microwave, and cooking range. Cupboards above and below probably held pots and pans and cutlery. Opposite was a slim door, probably leading to the washroom. Just beyond, separated by a sliding door ' which was open at the moment ' was a wall-to-wall queen-size bed, with built-in storage both below in and on the walls next to it. Prats squatted there, rummaging for stuff in the lower bin.

Turning around, Prats tossed Sid a pillow, a sheet, and a thin quilt. "Here Sid! Make up your own bed please." Sultan promptly shook himself hard and plonked himself on the sofa with a long-suffering smile. Bursting into giggle, Prats came and wrapped herself around Sultan, "C'mon baby, you can stretch out on the other sofa, or join me in the bedroom." Tugging on the reluctant Sultan's collar, she dragged him to the other sofa, where he sat down disapprovingly. "OK Sid, I get first turn in the washroom. Fix up your bed in the meantime; you can use the cabinet under the TV for your stuff."

Gathering up some things, she slipped into the bathroom. Sid gathered up his stuff, stooping to store them in the cabinet. Pulling out the sofa bed, he started doing it up, only to be distracted by the muffled sound of running water. Playing truant, his mind conjured up visions of a pink-and-white Prats under the shower, beads of moisture tracking trails down her body. Just the thought was enough to make his eyes bug out. Hearing the latch being slipped open, he hurriedly turned to fluff up the pillow. As the light from the washroom was turned off, he turned to see a freshly shampooed girl, water dripping down her back, bare foot, clad in an orange and black thigh-length sleep shirt, bare foot, toes curling into the hardwood floor. Almost swallowing his tongue at the sight and the sweet powder-based aroma surrounding her, he had to virtually force himself to turn away.

"Sid. Sid! Before you go to freshen up, remember that water is a scarce commodity on a caravan. Turn off the water whenever you are not using it, OK?" Nodding dumbly, he picked up his gear and gingerly sidestepped her into the washroom. Holding tight to the tiny washbasin, he sat on the pot, looking heavenward for help. This was turning out to be torture! Spying the showerhead situated just above the pot, he sighed, "Kya din aa gaye!!" As she settled down to watch the news, Prats smiled at the muffled ouches and soft swear words emerging behind the door. The long limbs in there sure were cramped in the limited place available. Serve him right for insisting on tagging along! Dismissing him from her mind, she turned to watch the shenanigans in the Lok Sabha.

"Err, Prats, I need to change' I couldn't manage in there!" Swiveling thoughtlessly to face him, her jaw almost dropped in amazement at the Greek God who stood before her. Seemingly sculpted out of stone, each ab stood out in relief, biceps and triceps bulged with each breath he took. Legs, partly hidden by a white towel, stretched like tree trunks! As she watched in awe, a droplet of water escaped from him freshly scrubbed hair, making a thin track over his cheek, neck, chest, and much further. Tracking the path with her eyes, she was brought back to earth, "Errr Prats! I NEED to change." "Oh, of course, why don't you change in the bedroom?

Pulling the curtain behind him, Sid smirked. So, she wasn't totally immune to his charm, eh? Well, we'll see Ms. Singh! No one can escape my lures for long! As he pulled off his towel, he screeched as a huge form bounded past him, on to the bed! Sultan! Putting a hand on his chest to still his rapidly thudding heart, Sid heard another muffled shriek behind him. Turning in horror, he saw Prats with her eyes clapped over her eyes. When Sultan entered the room, he had pulled the curtain away. Fumbling for the towel, he held it awkwardly over his derriere! "Oops, sorry Prats! Sultan'"

Sinking into a ball on the sofa, Prats whispered, "It's OK Sid' I understand. But, from tomorrow, you bathe first and I'll wait in the bedroom till you are done. SULTAN, come here, you naughty boy, you! Cringing with embarrassment, she buried her head in Sultan's huge neck. Would she ever forget the image imprinted in her mind? God! Atlas come to life! All that was missing was the world on his shoulders!!! This journey just might prove to be more difficult for her too'

Chapter 9

Hearing the rustling of the curtain, Prats looked up nervously. In an attempt to appear normal, she chirped, "Sorry Sid, I only have a few channels. Here's the remote... you can surf to whatever you want to see." "No, that's fine; news is fine with me Prats." Eyeing the sofa bed, which was partly occupied by a sprawled-out Sultan, he perched at the edge to spend some more time with Prats. Surprisingly, their views on things political matched quite a bit. Both hated the sheer disinterest in the public that all political parties had. Both liked the thought that the youth were coming forward, and both were unsure which of the two main parties were the lesser of the two evils. Arguing about their opinions, both were pleasantly surprised to find that they actually could talk to each other. A slight mutual respect crept in.

As midnight dawned and the weight-loss ads started on all channels, Prats yawned and stretched. "I'm tired, Sid! Have a long day ahead, let's retire now." Sid turned to look ruefully at Sultan, "Where, though? Big boy here has taken up my bed!" Giggling like a young girl, Prats leaned over to hold on to Sultan's collar. Trying to drag him (unsuccessfully) she giggled harder, "Sultan! Get up, you big lug, you!" Opening a bleary eye, Sultan slurped down her arm, and sat up reluctantly. With great effort, he lumbered down from his perch. Passing Sid, he paused to lift a corner of his mouth in a covert snarl. "Prats! Is it Ok to be alone with Sultan? He looks dangerous!" Prats patted him on the hand gently, "No Sid. Don't worry. Sultan won't harm a fly! And anyway, I am here. Sleep tight!"

As she brushed past him, she tripped over his big toe! "Watch it!" Grabbing hold of her arms, he swung her back up. The air around them thickened as she hung precariously in his arms, almost nose to nose with him. Sliding her gently down to the ground, he held his breath as he drowned in deep, deep brown doe eyes. The feel of her slight body made him feel things that it was not the time to feel. Seeing her pupils widen in shock, he slowly let go of her arms, sliding them caressing up and down a bit, just to remember the silky feel later. Her clean, sweet, freshly bathed aroma filled his senses. Still standing together, lost in a daze, they were interrupted by a huge head pushing between them. At the low grrr emanating from the nether regions, they looked down to see Sultan forcibly pushing them apart, his full focus on Sid. It was a formidable sight.

Taking advantage of the opportunity, Prats sank down on the floor, next to Sultan, holding his head close to hers. "Friend, Sultan, friend. We don't growl at friends. Calm down baby!" Without looking again at Sid, she turned and rushed into the bedroom, tossing a rushed g'night in the air. As the door slid shut tight, Sid sighed. Not knowing whether his legs were trembling because of the close encounter with Ms. Singh or because of the too-close encounter with Sultan, he sank down on the bed, running a shivering hand across his forehead.

"Calm down, Siddie boy. Don't want to die in this process." Opening his eyes, he peered into the calm eyes of the big dog sitting on his haunches across from him. This was a friend he'd have to make... and soon! Else, he didn't see his plans for him and Prats come to any conclusion anytime soon! Stretching out a hand, he crooned "Good doggie, come here, big fella!" Almost sighing in impatience, Sultan turned away, gave himself a scratch, and climbed onto his sofa. So this one too was bent on ignoring me! Well, we'll see about that!

Turning the sheets down, Sid lay down in an attempt to sleep. Shifting restlessly, he squirmed in the unfamiliar, too-small bed. However, his physical discomfort was outweighed by his mental. His mind played over the events since day before yesterday - his first meeting with "her," his half discovery of her past, his growing desire to know more, the undeniable physical attraction he felt (and was hopeful she felt too), his business, which would suffer if he kept away for any longer... Sigh! What should he do?

Turning and twisting the night away, he finally dropped off to sleep in the wee hours of the morning, only to be jolted awake by an ear-splitting siren. Almost falling of the bed in shock at the rude awakening, he peered around blearily to see the amazing sight at the window. With a 12 bore in her hands, the petite Pratishtha was peeking through a crack in the window, Sultan baying his head off next to her. "Get away from this vehicle! Get away! The police will be here ASAP. GET AWAY!" Scrambling for the other window, Sid peered out to see three dhoti-clad young men scampering off! Chortling loudly, Pratishtha turned off a switch above her head. Seeing his flabbergasted expression, "What?! Haven't you heard of AutoCop? Anyone touches the exterior of either Dhanno or the caravan, and the alarm triggers!" Seeing his rapt gaze, she patted the 12 bore, "And I have a license for this baby."

"Bitiya! Tum theek ho?" <Are you OK?> Loud raps on the door heralded some new arrivals. Prats opened the window again a scrap, "Ji, I'm fine. The curious kids ran off! Thank you!" Turning to Sid, she said, "I always park near a dhaba whose owner knows Bapusa. If there is none in the vicinity, I park within the village I visited last. What did you think? I'm some kind of nutcase on dope?!" Laughing merrily, she tossed the rifle on her bed and slammed into the bathroom.

Sinking onto his bed, shaking his head to clear the ringing from his ears, Sid moaned out loud. WHAT had he got himself into??

Chapter 10

Preparing a pot of tea and dry toast (the only thing he could find in the mini fridge), he set them out on the foldout dining table. "Prats, come and eat something," he yelled across the sound of the shower. "Breakfast? We just had dinner..." Sighing heavily, Sid shook his head in despair. Sitting down to eat in blessed silence, he looked around to see two droopy eyes fixed on his plate in longing. Smiling slyly, he broke off a bit of his bread and offered it to Sultan. Refusing to inch forward, Sultan sat with a regal, yet hopeful, demeanor. Sliding slightly forward, Sid crooned, "Here, you want some, big boy?" Putting his hand out, till it was almost at Sultan's mouth, he offered the tit-bit warily. Putting out a big slobbering tongue, Sultan grabbed up the offering delicately. As his tail twitched in a slight wag, Sid grinned - Base 1!

Turning at the aroma of freshly bathed girl, Sid smiled at the salwar-kameez-clad demure vision that appeared. In response to his raised eyebrows, Prats sighed, "What to do? The sarpanch of today's village is a bit more orthodox. Yum! Chai? <tea?>" Sitting down to stuff the toast in her mouth, almost absently, she picked up some files to read. "Uh, Prats, in case you forgot, I need to pick up some stuff. Can we stop over somewhere?" "Umm, yeah, of course, but then, let's leave at once; else we'll be late to our next destination." While she went out to give Sultan a run, he quickly had a bath, inhaling the smells and sights of the remnants of a ladies' bath all the while.

Hearing a hammering on the door, Sid sprinted out to Dhanno. Jumping into the front seat, he reached around to smile at a panting Sultan. "Ready, pal?" Without waiting for either's response, Prats took off at full speed, as usual, waving a good bye to the dhaba workers. As the early morning coolness settled around them, she smiled at Sid, "OK, what exactly do you need?" "Well, some clothes, toiletries, a car charger for my phone, "some" food items, and ..." "Food items? Whatever for? We eat at all the villages, don't we." Sid roared with laughter, "You might not need it, but I sure need four meals a day!" Seeing the look she gave him, "No, don't worry. I will cook. You can share if you want..."

Irate, she said, "I never have a free meal. If I eat, I work!" "Ok, sweetie, we'll work something out. And, before you eat my head off, I won't call you sweetie again!" Smiling slightly at each other, they continued on their way. Reaching a small town, Prats drew up in front of a small general-purpose store, flanked by clothes and electronic stores. Though the standard was not as high as he was used to, it would have to do. As Prats and Sultan stood around, chatting to a few townsfolk, Sid went off to shop; ma'am had allowed him exactly half an hour!

As he finished his purchases, Sid spied a small supply of dog food, biscuits, and toys. Smirking, he picked up a few food items, a tug toy, and a ball. Walking out, he ignored the avid sniffing around his bags and walked into the camper to store it all. After a quick introduction to the men standing around Prats, they took off for the next village, where much the same process took place, except that the sarpanch was not that open to progress. Finishing with lunch, they left for their second destination. Enroute, as they passed a small nehar <stream>, Prats squealed with delight. "Sultan, lets dip our feet here!"

Following slowly behind, loving the sight of woman and dog frolicking at the edge of the water, Sid pulled out the ball from his pocket. Whistling shrilly, he tossed the ball into the water, past a surprised Prats and Sultan. Barking joyously, Sultan chased it into the water and grabbing hold of it, came running back to drop it at Sid's feet. Laughing out loud, Sid indulged in a game of catch with both Prats and Sultan. As they tired of that game, he pulled out the tug rope, wiggling it in front of a yelping Sultan. Holding tight to one end, they tugged hard, evenly matched in strength. As they slithered from one side to the other at the edge of the water, Prats pitched in to help Sultan, holding the rope just in front of his nose.

As Sid was tugged in their direction, he suddenly loosened his hold, taking the other duo by surprise. As they relaxed, he tugged suddenly, disbalancing the two of them. Lurching forward, they careened into him, knocking him over too. As the three landed with a splash in the stream, Sultan leaped away, leaving a surprised Prats sprawling over an equally surprised Sid.

As water dripped down Prats hair and nose onto Sid, the two froze, an awkward awareness of their situation creeping in. Feeling the slight body reclining in him, his hands rose of their own accord, slipping gently up and down her slim back. As she made to awkwardly slip away, his hold tightened slightly, freezing her in place. Her hands flattened near his shoulders, her gaze slowly wandered over the handsome face in front of her. As his equally heated gaze settled on her slightly parted lips, she stilled further; the only things moving were their chests, along with the rapidness of their breathing.

Covering the slight difference between their lips, Sid reached out to brush his gently over hers. As her lips parted on a slight sigh, he deepened the pressure slightly, waiting for any resistance from her. Feeling her relax further like a boneless kitten onto him, his hand crept up her back to the nape of her neck, holding her in place as it were. Peppering her lips with small nibbling kisses, he waited till her lips returned his pressure. Shifting his hold slightly, he deepened the kiss, nudging her lips moistly apart to get at her sweet essence. Her hands swept up suddenly to hold his head tightly, twisting her fingers into the hair at the nape of his head.

Suddenly ravenous, he twisted, turning her onto her back, taking the kiss a step further. As he paused, short of breath, to kiss his way up to her forehead, she suddenly froze. Pushing at him feebly, "No! What are you doing, Sid?!" Pausing at once, he released his hold and rolled of her, watching in regret as she scrambled to her feet. Sultan, who had so far been watching the proceedings with interest, woofed and dropped his ball at Prats feet. Backing off, Prats half sobbed, "Not now, boy," and rushed off to the caravan. "So, Sultan, it's just you and me!" said Sid as he tossed the ball absently. There would be hell to pay for sure...

Chapter 11

Standing up reluctantly, Sid ruffled Sultan's hair and walked up the stair to the cabin, feeling like a prisoner would while facing the guillotine. Walking inside hesitantly, he saw Prats at the table, chopping up a storm. Two pans were bubbling furiously on the stove. Dressed in an all-encompassing kaftan that hid all her assets, Prats refused to look at him. "Err, Prats, we need to talk…" Sliding a sidelong look at him, eyes widening at his drenched, semi-transparent clothes, she mumbled, "About what? What's happened, has happened… let's not make an issue of it."

Staring at her curiously, he brushed past her, wincing as she flinched at the slight touch. Changing his clothes and drying off in the bedroom, he came back to piping-hot snacks. Munching them, he picked up his phone and dialed his office. At the concerned squawks coming down the line, he smiled, "I need a break sometimes too, Sunita. Let me authorize Girish to sign the regular docs. If there's an emergency, we shall see. Please transfer the line to him." Sitting opposite him, nose buried in her files, Pratyusha paid avid attention to his conversation. Impressed by his decisiveness – despite herself – she wondered at the quandary she found herself in. How could she have lost control like that? How could she lose herself this way? Why had she felt the way she had? Was there any way to get rid of Sid? If she told him to leave, he would know she was scared…

Putting his phone down, he turned to her, "Pratishtha, I know you don't want to talk about this, but…" As she raised a hand to demur, he continued unheeded, "I think I overstepped my bounds. Regardless of whether you were willing or not, I should not have taken advantage of the situation. I promise you this now – we start with a friendship and don't take it further, unless you want to… And the next step will be yours!" As Prats stared open-mouthed, he got up, "OK, I'm off to work on my laptop, so will stay in the cabin. You can drive us to the next village, if we have an appointment."

As Prats drove, a thousand questions plagued her mind. Why was he behaving the way he was. Was it so easy to relegate this whole thing to the back of his mind? Was she just some "Time Pass?" And if she was Time Pass, then why had he left his precious work to be with her on this trip? Did he have an ulterior motive? And WHY did she miss his lumbering presence while she drove?

And so the days slipped by, with a sharing of space, a sharing of food, a sharing of thoughts, a sharing of tasks, and a sharing of beliefs. An increasingly easy camaraderie started developing between all three of them, with Sultan seeming to accept the over-grown, genial man who seemed to have taken up permanent residence with them.

About two weeks later, after a particularly trying day, Prats was in a snit at the bigotry and narrow-mindedness of some people. Throwing things around, she flounced about the cabin like a cat on a hot tin roof, disturbing Sid, who was on Skype. "Stop it, Prats! I have a problem here!" "So, get out of my place, Sid! You don't have to put up with me, do you? Go do your work wherever you have 'peace'!" Sighing heavily, thanking God that he had muted the system before talking with her, he turned his back on her, continuing with his conversation.

Unable to bear his ignoring her, Prats continued banging things around the place, waiting to launch another attack. To her shock, Sid stood up suddenly, "I need to go for a couple of days, Prats. It's an emergency. What have you planned for the next two days? Tomorrow is Chipiyana and day after is Ramnagar, isn't it. I'll catch up with you at either of these places…"

With the wind knocked out of her sails, Prats stayed mute with shock. She hadn't meant that he should actually leave! As Sid quickly stowed his things away, "But, how will you go? There's no taxi service here. Should I drop you someplace?" "No, no, there's plenty of traffic around here. I'll just hitch a lift with someone." "Sid, that's unsafe… What if you get robbed or worse?" Roaring with laughter, he guffawed, "Look who's talking! The queen of danger! Don't worry, I can take care of myself! I would have called you once I reached Jaipur, but since you don't own a mobile phone…"

Watching Sid going off in a truck with a cheery wave, Prats sat on the stairs, holding the big dog's head in her lap. Now what? This was what she wanted, didn't she? Some space… and Sid out of her life? So, why this feeling of isolation, no desolation? Getting back into the cabin, she sat on his bed with a sigh, why did the whole place smell of him? Drat the man, for coming into her life and insinuating himself into every aspect of it! Standing up, she reached into the highest kitchen cabinet and pulled out a mobile. She'd succeeded in hiding this from him, at least. But fat lot of good it'd do her now!

Sighing, she lay down to sleep. Her appetite was killed and the hot milk he'd put out for her before leaving could take a walk! Who was he to bother about her anyway?! And WHY was she bothering about why he did or did not bother! She didn't want to take another walk down that lane again!

Chapter 12

Spending a sleepless night, tossing and turning, mind filled with questions, what-ifs, what-if-nots, whys and why nots – known and unknown demons plaguing her. A great void filled her mind, fear of the past creeping into the future. Pulling Sultan onto her bed to burrow her head into his body to shed silent tears. His warm and soft body filling her with a comfort that asked for no returns. Yearning for the unknown, mind battling against it. Unexpected and untold anxieties bending her body into a pretzel even when she managed to sleep.

What a night it was! She woke up – after many years – with a splitting headache and the desire to pour a gallon of coffee down her throat. Muttering silent curses at herself; why hadn't she refused this whole rigmarole right at the beginning? Why did she always have to prove and re-prove herself to everyone – that she was strong and impervious? Sitting down at the table with a carafe of strong black coffee, she smiled. How big the cabin looked again. How comfortable and peaceful. How silent, just as she liked it. Thank God he had gone… She had her personal haven back again.

Smiling gaily once more, she took Sultan for a walk. Re-entering her haven, she readied herself for the day and took off with new verve. Singing along with the radio, she attacked the day with full gusto, the only glitch being when she was asked about the man who was discussing new methods of farming. The villagers had been looking forward to meeting him, it seemed. Drat the man, couldn't he leave her alone?! Promising to send him later, she got down to the business of teaching the women new handicrafts and embroidery stitches. But, the glow in the air had diminished.

Deciding to spend the night on the outskirts of the village, she promised to be back for dinner. Who would bother to cook? This was the life – footloose and fancy-free! Reclining on the sofa bed, she lolled from side to side – aah. Luxury after so many days! Feeling a big paw nudge at her hips, she turned to see a forlorn Sultan, gazing at her with a question in his eyes. Et tu, Brutus!! Sighing heavily, she changed into shorts, picked up the ball and tug rope, and stepped out. Might as well get some exercise so she'd get some good sleep that night.

Post dinner, she sat down to her files, but her mind was restless. Sid had said he'd join her here or in Ramnagar. Was it possible he'd come back tonight? The only reason she wanted to know was because she wanted to sleep on the sofa bed tonight, what else? Forget it, Prats! She'd sleep where she wanted too, so there! Snuggling down into the pillows, she sighed luxuriously, only to draw back to sniff the linen deeper. Cool Water and Adidas, what a heavenly combo.

Jumping out of bed, she flounced off to her own bed. Seriously drat the man! He's taken over her whole life! Snuggling into her own covers, she smiled; she'd wash all the linen tomorrow. Yeah, that's it. But what if he came back tonight? She sat up, picking up her watch to see the time. It was 8.30 pm, and yeah, she could hear a vehicle coming up the kachcha <unpaved> road. Sultan set up a deep, continuous bark. Yes, it was him!

Rushing to open the door, she was just in time to see the vehicle drive past. It was some villager returning from town. Heeding the shouted admonition to lock up tight, she walked dejectedly back to her bed. WHAT was wrong with her? She should have been saddened at his prompt return, but here, it was just the opposite! Calling herself all kinds of a fool, she tried going to sleep, but it was not to be. Remembering what he had mentioned once, she warmed up some milk. Maybe his desi nuska <home remedy> would do the trick.

Waking up the next morning after a dreamless night, she set about the motions of getting on with life. But, she had to admit that Sid had somehow inveigled his way into her daily routine. She missed his gentle teasing, his roughhousing with Sultan, his constant quest for information – both personal and official; she just missed his presence. And it seemed the lethargic Sultan felt likewise.

Throughout the day, she kept turning around in the hope that he would magically appear. Her watch had never been looked at as much as today. She was so distracted that people noticed, and that was rare with her. Her real emotions never came to the surface. The day was long and drawn out, leaving her exhausted at the end of it. Good, maybe she'd get some proper sleep, at the right time.

Getting into bed, sleep eluded her once again. The hands of her watch didn't seem to move. Was Sid OK? Had he reached home at all or had something terrible happened on the way. Why, oh why hadn't she shared her number with him? Well, she had his, didn't she? Why didn't she call him? Sighing, she picked up her mobile, dialing the number she had learned by heart after hearing him speak out loud so many times. It rang and rang, but no one picked up. She tried again… with the same result. Throwing the phone across her bed, she pounded on her pillow. Really!!! Let him go to hell, and see if she cared!

Acknowledging that she was messed up, she sat up. She'd probably have to call Bapusa first thing tomorrow, to request him to find out if Sid was alive! It was too late right now to call. Everyone would only be worried about her… But God! She better get her spine back after she learned that he was alright, or she would be in the same place she'd been in all those years ago. A place she didn't want to be...