Chapter 8 (Part 2)-
“Sabse pehle aap muh meetha kijiye” Anjali said, holding open a box of jalebis.
Narrowing his eyes, he took one. She laid the box open on the table and retrieved yet another one from her bag and said it was for him to take home to his family.
They were sitting at one of the garden tables at Java Café. Despite his insistence that there was no need for any such formality, Anjaliji had requested this meeting to thank him for his help. Through Mr Roy’s messages for ASR, he was aware that the divorce proceedings were being expedited, but they were still no closer to finding out what had transpired between Anjaliji and Shyam that had led her to drop her charges against him.
He had returned from the police station with mixed feelings. From the day she had sought out his help, Aman had not been able to stop himself from judging her. He could not understand why she had stayed in a relationship that had most certainly been toxic from the beginning. Shyam had physically and mentally abused her, and she had continued to defend him. And now, after all that their investigation had revealed, how could she let him go scot-free?
It was through venting to Priya that he had realised that he was an outsider in their marriage, he couldn’t possibly understand the intricacies and subtleties involved. After all, Anjaliji and Shyam had lived as husband and wife for four years. Who knew what sort of power he held over her? Or what he had threatened her with? When something as delicate as a marriage broke down, things could get very ugly indeed.
He had hoped that having trusted him with her secrets in the past, she might confide in him. Perhaps there was still something he could help her with.
But so far she had been hedging.
Since they had met, she had asked about his family, about Pari’s latest antics and just as he had tried to broach the subject again, she had pushed the box of sweets under his nose.
“Aaj humaare liye bohot khaas din hai” she said, with a wide smile.
Although there was an aura of contained grief about her, her dressing sombre and lacking the adornments of a married woman, she certainly seemed to be doing much better than before.
“Hum bua ban ne wale hain” she said, dragging him out of his thoughts.
Aman bit into the jalebi with a small smile. So, he had guessed correctly.
Watching his face closely, she asked, “Aapko pehle se maloom tha?”
He shook his head. “Maloom nahi tha but…kuch mahine pehle ASR ne mujhe OBGYN ka appointment book karne bola tha, so I figured.”
“Aapko humaare parivaar ke baare puri jankaari rehti hai, hain na?”
“It’s my job” he said with a laugh. “Aapke parivaar ki seva karne se hi toh mera parivaar chalta hai”
She blinked at him, looking mildly embarrassed and uncomfortable.
“Anyway” he said, helping himself to another sweet and changing the topic. “Bohot bohot Mubarak ho.”
“Shukriya” she said, “Amanji, hume kuch aisa bataiye na jo hum khud nahi jaanthe apne parivaar ke baare me?”
She was definitely hedging. He couldn’t tell how much of her cheeriness was from genuine happiness for her brother and how much was a façade. He knew all about keeping up appearances, of plastering on smiles on one’s face even when one’s heart was breaking. After all, the society they lived in had defined time limits for mourning, feelings be damned.
Nevertheless, he decided to indulge her for the moment. He preferred seeing this side of her rather than the sadness that was sure to creep into her eyes if he brought up her loser ex-husband again.
He admitted to being privy about a lot of Raizada insider information.
“Kuch saal pehle ki baat hai, hume aapki Mamiji ke vajah se beauty parlour jaana pada tha” he said, recalling. “Unke credit card ka limit cross ho gaya tha aur unke paas cash nahi tha. Owner ke saath unka jhagda ho gaya and she called ASR when he was in a meeting with foreign clients. Luckily I intercepted the call but office me sab busy the, toh mujhe hi jaana pada aur company card se unka bill clear kiya tha.”
Anjali raised a hand to her forehead. “Mamiji bhi na”
“Do you know, ASR ke sangeeth ke function se pehle aapki Naniji ne acting class join kiya tha?” he said, “She said she was playing ASR in one of the performances and wanted to learn, I booked the classes for her.”
Anjaliji’s jaw dropped.
“And, aap Payaliji ke baare me toh jaanthi hongi?”
She shook her head, eyes lighting up.
“Unhone Khushiji ke birthday pe unhe saree gift kiya tha jispe unhone khud gota work kiya tha” he said, “ASR was very impressed with the craftmanship and offered her a designing job in our ethnic wear division.”
Anjaliji looked astonished.
“She works from home mostly and I think she didn’t want anyone at home to know” he said, remembering. “Aap please kisiko kuch mat kahiye”
Anjaliji promised. She sipped her coffee, looking thoughtful.
Aman picked up his coffee, its taste was now ruined after the sweetness of the jalebis.
“Kuch dinon se hum bohot khudgarz hog aye hain, Amanji” she said, “Sirf aapne baare me sochthe rehte hain, humaare saath jo kuch hua, humaari taqleef, humaara dukh dard. Lekin zindagi ruk toh nahi jaathi na, humaare apnon ke bhi choti-moti hasi-khushi, dukh dard…sab chalta hi rehta hai, hain na?”
Aman nodded.
But as he tried to think of something reassuring to say, she shook her head and dried her eyes before retrieving something from her handbag.
“Before I forget,” she said, handing him three cheques.
He raised his eyebrows.
“Aapke liye nahi hai” she said, predicting his protest. “Hum jaanthe hain ki sabki payments ho chuki hai lekin hume lagaa ki…matlab I wanted to help them with a little extra from my side. Isliye yeh bonus hai BT ji ke liye, unke computer technician ke liye aur…Sunny ke liye.”
He took them, surprised by her gesture.
After BT had wrapped up the investigation, she had paid him and his tech friend. At the same time, she had transferred money to Aman's account. Although he hadn’t expected it, he had decided to accept it as it had helped her feel somewhat in control of her situation. They had never talked about it.
“Hum yeh bhi jaanthe hain ki aapko bhi payment mil gaya” she continued, “Lekin aapne jo kiya woh sirf kaam nahi tha.”
Aman looked away; he didn’t want her money. Although she was right, he had provided a service and had been paid for it, the fact that he had gone above and beyond his call of duty, well…he certainly hadn’t done it for money. It all felt vaguely insulting.
“Aapne toh humaare dost ban ke humaara saath diya” she said, “Aur dost ko dosti ke paise nahi diye jaathe hai, unhe tohfa diya jaatha hai”
She handed him a small, gift-wrapped box as he stared at her, blindsided and touched.
Before he could formulate words, his phone began to ring. It was an unknown number.
Excusing himself, he answered the call still grasping the gift in his hand.
“Namaste Mr Mathur, Principal Sinha speaking, from Little Flower Primary School”.
Kyunki Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thi 2
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