sigh. y'know? this thing is definitely stretching waaaaaay beyond the story should! and all the blame falls on that horrible prem and his heer! when i want to write about where the story should go next, they insist on looking at each other and behaving all goose-bumpy. and what is
really irking me is ... they had doing it in the privacy of
my head!!! mine! my own! i mean -- how
dare they!!??!! how... sigh. 'kay, 'kay. i'll stop spluttering in confused indignation now, and put up the next updates.
but just so that you do
not misunderstand me -- i hate prem and heer, you hear me?? i hate them! 😡
update for
11 nov 2009 -- where i seriously start making an effort to take control of the story back from the desperately-focussed-on-each-other prem-heer-are-one pair! 😳
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ch 20: ''food, friends and conversation''
the bowl with the magnolias glowed under the chandelier above the dinner table. dinner had been a noisy affair, and even now, the arguments were flying back and forth, although at a more mellow rate, weighed down by the excellent paella that juanita had made. at one point, gayatri had threatened to send the whole lot of them to the kitchen as punishment. and heer had laughed when jenine, heaavily pregnant and clearly unapologetic, had cheekily claimed she should be excused because she was shouting for two people. amidst the clamour of noisy protest, heer hadn't noticed how prem's face had taken on an arrested look at the sound of her laugh, wondering if he would ever stop losing his breath when heer's eyes lit up as it had then.
''now, why is it that artists,'' suni said, putting down her dessert spoon with satisfaction, ''
don't all just focus on creating wonders like this? if all art tasted as wonderful as this parfait, i'd personally pay whatever they wanted for it.''
''no, you wouldn't,'' harman piped up, ''
the equivalent for the catholic church's wealth chest is your company credit card.'' he grinned as suni acknowledged the truth of his statement. he continued, slurping up the remainder of his second helping, ''
or you could get lucky like we did, and get the artist herself, our leonardo, the lovely jaunita. and she is doing this for love, aren't you, nita?'' he smiled at her, holding out for more, looking like a juneja version of oliver twist with a bowl..
''sure, mr. harman,'' jaunita shot back at him good-naturedly, ''
i am doing it for love... the love of a good retired life.'' she smiled at the outburst of mock groans that erupted from the juneja boys, preet's ''
noooo! this can't be true!'' nearly drowning prem's equally dramatic ''
oh my shattered illusions.''
it had been fascinating for heer to see the juneja brothers being boys at dinner. over the nearly two months that she had known them, she had only seen them in their in their work life. at the brownstone, they were driven, each of them focussed, as if every moment not spent on work was a waste of their life. but here, in their mother's home, they became the boys she still saw in her eyes.
here, none of them kept their brownstone forms. there was not been a whisper of the temperamental architect, the sharp-eyed lawyer, the intense financier. instead, they were like large kids, getting a chance to a sleepover with their friends.
sharad and jenine were also architects. sharad had been with harman at school, and had taken up architecture with preet, after being fascinated by lalit juneja. he had met jenine on a project he was working on for ''
lj&sons, ltd.". she was doing the quality assurance as an external consultant for their client. they had clashed from the moment they had met, and had been married in less than six months. they ran their own firm, focussing more on interior design once the buildings were up, doing a lot of projects with the junejas.
suni was prem's batchmate in finance at chicago. she had a deceptively sleepy look, which prem had assured heer as he introduced her, was very effective in getting the best out of all the financial deals that she was involved in. within moments of meeting her, suni had found out everything that heer knew about the art market -- including how much her last painting had been sold for. after all, suni had said with a twinkle in her eyes, she had always been interested in investing in art, and heer was the first real painter that she knew.
nandita had brought a friend from work, chloe, small, delicate. like nandita, she was put together in a casual look that only very large amounts of money could buy. what made nandita stand out, heer had thought, was the calm look of love in her eyes, everytime she looked at harman.
chloe's eyes didn't have that glow, even though she seemed very taken with prem. heer had recognised the very smooth way that she had been manouevered into the coversation with preet and sharad at the sofa, leaving chloe free to carve a cozy little space in the corner of the room with prem, his head shining blue black in the moonlight shining through the window bent down courteously towards her. heer's eyes travelled down that stern profile, her eyes newly opened to the importance of form, appreciating the strength reposing in that strong jawline.
those were old familiar relationships. and heer might have felt the odd person out, except that it was not new for her -- she was usually the odd person out. even as a very young child, she had been fascinated by the world of nature and all that was colourful, and even more fascinated when she found that she could capture what she saw forever, in crayons, in water-colours, in paints. and so it was that while other little girls played with dolls and tea-sets, heer painted, with delicacy and imagination and a certain alchemy of colour that caught the eye of anyone who saw her paintings. she would dream of the next painting even while finishing the painting in front of her. she had become so used to living in the world of controlling colour that she could be happy in a crowd where she didn't know a soul.
tonight had been different. gayatri had been determined to make up for having been distant with heer. she had sat on the sofa, heer at her side, and had gently coerced the rest of the crowd to settle round her. the conversation had been about why there were so many architectural wonders of the world sprung in the middle of religion. and by the time, preet and sharad started arguing about the principles behind home-of-light, she had been caught up in the argument as much as anyone else. she had been like a fascinated child at dinner, sitting with her chin in her hands, listening to preet, sharad and jenine expound on the principles of architecture.
preet was loud, working on the principle of he-wins-who-is-pushy. harman had shed his aura of parsimonious preciseness of speech and movement, speaking nineteen to a dozen, freely waving his arms and hands to make a point. heer got the impression that if nandita hadn't been there, harman would have been as boisterous as preet.
and, as usual, she was most fascinated by prem juneja. she watched him spring joyfully into the fray, shredding flimsy arguments with surprising authority, his face alive with enjoyment of the thrust-and-parry of the conversation. she marvelled again at how much of a contrast he made her see whenever she looked at him -- like there was a prism inside him, constantly catching the light, changing colour, dazzling her.
she must stop being so fanciful, heer told herself sternly, when had she started being so fanciful about people? guys, her inner voice reminded her, and she felt her face go warm.
''are you feeling too warm, heer? you look flushed.'' gayatri, seating herself between chloe and heer, settling the plate of cookies on the coffee table, looked concerned. ''
prem, be a darling and push that window a little wider? jenine, what do you think of the latest craze of having the ceilings painted darker than the walls inside an apartment? personally, i think that would shorten the the room? who would deliberately choose to feel stifled?''
heer was content to sit back and listen. with gayatri's hug at the start of the dinner, she had felt a load lift from her mind. now in the aftermath of good food and stimulating conversation, cushioned by the warmth of gayatri on her side, cradling a cup of tea in her hand, heer felt warm and sleepy, her gaurd lowered in the soft lighting of the room.
so her prem-juneja sensors did not alert her when she felt the arms of the sofa getting depressed under the weight of someone settling next to where she sat. and as prem settled his arm along the back of the sofa, she leaned back into him slightly, raising drowsy eyes to look into his dark ones.
and prem felt his insides melt as she smiled a smile that was so very slight, so infinitely seductive. the conversation still buzzed around them. but he paid no heed as he ran a thumb along her cheek bone, along the shadows under her eyes. heer felt a familiar heat, dispelling the drowsiness in her mind. she saw his eyes drop to her lips, and felt it like a physical touch.
she jerked up, spilling hot tea on her hand, gasping at the sting of real heat on her skin. the sound had drawn gayatri's attention, as she turned to look at her. ''
heer, you are flushed! are you sure that you are well, darling?''
''i am okay,'' heer smiled reassuringly, ''
just too much good food, i think. i should go down and walk it off.''
''heer.'' preet voice was alight with laughter. he was standing at the coffee table. ''
this is top floor of a juneja design -- you don't need to go down to find a walk.'' preet put out his hand, and pulled her off the sofa. heer went with him, glad for a chance to get her head clear again. away from prem juneja's distracting company.
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Edited by estee - 15 years ago
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