PART THREE- A-
"Bhaiya... I don't know what you ever saw in her" she shook her head as her long tresses brushed against his bedsheets, "Everything that has happened to us is her fault. Since she came to this house she has caused problems between us bhaiya! She is the reason Preeti hates me... I wish... I wish you had never married her" she huffed out in her own frustration as he sat next to her, stone faced and inwardly flinching at her every word. How could she know? She had always been so immature and over-confident... a dangerous mixture for any young girl in this small town. How many times had he asked Riya to forgive her immaturity, even though she was old enough to know better... to be better? "Did you see the way she spoke back to dadi? Isn't she ashamed?" she continued on, her pitching voice now starting to get on his nerves. He closed his eyes for a moment only to remember in painfully acute detail her soft, trembling lips against his; he tried to swallow the sweet memory away and instead he was sure he could still taste her on his lips. "Nimmi... enough..." he bit out before he could stop himself; this was her first visit home since her marriage and already she was criticizing Riya, if only behind her back. Did she think he would join in on it? Did she think he would laugh and scoff with her like they were in some sort of childish club? After having walked into his room to speak to him privately he had softened at the look of concern over her face; it must have been a shock for her to find out that so much had happened in her absence. But hearing her speak like that about Riya was tightening his gut; he didn't want to listen to this... especially after the way he had touched her last night. God... did that actually happen? I kissed her... he swallowed hard as he tried his damndest to shake the memories clear. "But bhaiya..." he turned to her then, the sternness in his eyes making her trail off quietly as he quickly clenched and unclenched his left fist, the cut in his palm mirroring that of his wife's. "Nimmi... explain something to me. When you were sitting in the mandap in place of Preeti, what was stopping you from telling the truth?... When you knew if you didn't speak up you would have been marrying Vyom... why didn't you tell the truth?" He saw the tears start to flood her eyes knowing full well that she would find it difficult to explain herself; it was time she took some responsibility for her actions in all of this damned mess. If Riya could admit that she had been wrong to withhold the truth from everyone, then his sisters should damn well be able to do the same. This wasn't all his wife's fault; his entire family had turned this f**king fiasco into a witch hunt and she was the martyr to pay for their irresponsibility? No ... his sister needed to grow up and soon; she was married for godsakes, there was no more room in her life for this kind of short sightedness. "I...I...bhaiya...why are you asking me this?... Isn't it obvious?" she shook her head seemingly baffled and hurt that he would even ask such a thing and he shook his head in return, "Please just answer me Nimmi... what on earth was stopping you from speaking up before the marriage had been completed?... Was anyone holding your hand and forcing you to do it? Couldn't you have pulled the veil off your head and told the truth? What if Preeti had been physically attacked by Mohit? What if Riya had been attacked while you were covering for Preetis mess? Then what, huh? That piece of-" he stopped himself from swearing infront of her, trying to gather himself together before he lost all decorum infront of his youngest sister, "That lunatic had tied them up, Riya's hands had rope burns and Preeti... Preeti's chunni was torn, Nimmi" He hadn't been able to stop or control himself from asking question after question, even if they had been mostly rhetorical. After the truth had come out his blood had run cold thinking of the horrors that could have befallen both his wife and his sister. If that bas***d had even touched a hair on Riya's head he would have smashed his f**king skull in. He had already given him a beating of a lifetime, pounding into him until he stopped seeing red and still he had come back like a damned cockroach in their lives. The answers to his questions were obvious; his youngest sister had messed up just as badly as his eldest and she needed to face it, to take responsibility for it. She stood up in a flurry, shaking her head from side to side as she stood above him; he knew he looked angry because he damn well was! "I can't believe you are blaming me! How could you! I don't know anything about what Mohit did and I don't want to know. Riya was the eldest! She should have stopped Preeti! She should have told someone. Why am I being blamed?!" she was crying now as she raised her voice, as if that would make her point any clearer. Well it didn't; it was just pissing him off. Shivam stood up then, this time it was he who looked down at her as he spoke through clenched teeth, "Of course you don't want to know anything, why would you? Do you know how selfish you sound right now? Riya did try to stop Preeti. And when Preeti ignored her and escaped behind her back, she went after her to bring her back! She tried to cover up her mess. Don't think I don't know what happened just because I'm not speaking to Riya. Preeti was the one who asked you to swap places with her. Preeti was the one who told you not to tell Riya that she was leaving to meet him. When you could see they weren't coming back in time, didn't you think that maybe it had got out of hand? That just maybe you needed to tell someone the truth? DID YOU THINK THIS WAS A GAME?!" his voice raised into a bellow as he voiced the last question, now feeling slightly lightheaded from the sparse sleep he had these days. Her first visit back and all she could do was hate on Riya and he shout at her like a wayward child. Well, if she refused to grow up and face the music then what choice did he have? His father certainly wouldn't be looking in her direction, never mind actually doing his damned job and talking to her. "No! I didn't think it was a game! I was trying to protect my didi... I- I didn't know what I was thinking. I just completed one ritual after the other and before I knew anything it was too late, I was married to Vyom. What do you want me to say? I don't think this is my fault bhaiya, I'm the one who is stuck in a house full of people who hate me! Point the finger at your wife. Dadi was right when she said you are henpecked! Even now you support her over your own sister!"
Shivam looked at her with incredulity, not able to believe his ears as she continued her obtuse reasoning and insisting that none of it was her fault. Did she think he was living the life of his dreams? After finally marrying a woman he never thought he could deserve, he was now this f**king close to a divorce whilst his sisters had moved on in their own marriages and she had the audacity to feel sorry for herself? Did she think he was happy that they were separated?! He might have felt a tinge of pity when she voiced her situation at her in-laws... but at least her mother-in-law hadn't come back to throw her out of the house again. At least they remained a family; they just needed time to come to terms with her as their bahu. She had a husband whilst his life was falling apart. He was sick to f**king death of everyone calling him henpecked! Was it such a f**king crime to respect his wife's feelings and opinions? Was it such a sin to give and take with his wife?! Did they just expect her to do his bidding for the rest of their lives like his slave? Like his docile mother? He was not his father; he had never wanted to keep his wife in check like she was some kind of house pet and yet that was exactly what it seemed they wanted of him. It was as though for the first time in his life he was seeing his sister for who she really was; a spoilt child who never thought she was wrong. The whole world might be wrong, but not Nimmi. He didn't know what to say anymore. "You know what Nimmi? I can't reason with you. No one forced you to marry Vyom. No one taped your mouth shut or tied your hands behind your back that you couldn't say something. No one made you marry him. You did that yourself. You had a choice, you have a brain and you should have realised you had gone too far before Vyom even put the sindoor on your forehead. But you kept going anyway? Forget about Riya and Preeti, Nimmi... it was you in that mandap and you alone and yet you still went ahead with it" even as she moved to turn away from him he grabbed her arm and twisted her back to face him, "I am telling you this as your only and elder brother... you need to start taking responsibility for your actions. You cant keep blaming everyone else around you when you fail to make the right choices. I admit Riya was wrong, I admit she made a stupid mistake by not speaking up... but she also had the courage to admit her mistakes. She is the only one out of the three of you who has apologised for her part in all this. You need to grow up Nimmi... I will only say it once. You are married now, a woman and one day a mother... you need to take responsibility for your actions..." Shivam spoke the words that their father should have spoken to her long ago; he knew it was falling on deaf ears as she narrowed her eyes in disgust at him. He had tried to speak as calmly as he was able given that all he had really wanted to do was shout at her and make her see some sense; even if she was his younger sister, it didn't absolve her of abject stupidity. He was sure that all she could see from her small perspective was his supporting Riya, but it wasn't just that; if Nimmi carried on this way she would make a blunder out of her life. She had a new family to live with now and they wouldn't be as accommodating to her as her own had been and it looked like she would be learning that the hard way if she didn't listen to him just this once. "Bhaiya... I'm going. I didn't come here to get insulted, I just wanted to make sure Dadi was alright but it looks like all of you have given up on me..." Shivam walked towards her retreating figure, "Nim-" he called to her and stopped half way through her name as he caught sight of Riya standing a couple of feet away from the closed door. His face immediately heated as he looked at her, his eyes instinctively gliding over her pretty lips before sliding up to her eyes again. They hadn't exchanged a word with one another in the last eighteen hours and honestly, after the way she had ran away he didn't think she would seek him out or look at him for a while. He had played his cold words to her over and over in the hours after she left... This was a big mistake... big mistake... Shivam looked away from the warmth in her eyes, unable to handle any kindness from her right now. He didn't understand what had changed for her to look at him with anything but hatred, but he couldn't ignore her pink-rimmed eyes as though she had been crying through the night even if she had tried to hide it with make-up. He watched her walk up to Nimmi as his sister rounded the corner to the stairs, her voice soft and gentle, "Nimmi, Mummyji is calling you downst-" Nimmi whirled into her sister-in-law and practically spat the words out at her, "Yes! I know you all just want to get rid of me. I'm going bhabi" she stressed the last word with irreverence before she ran down the stairs. Shivam closed his eyes for a moment before opening them, the landing now empty of both his sister and Riya. She will never learn... he thought hopelessly, even now hating the way she had spoken to Riya.
*
"Chandaaa... come here beta.. come, I have something lovely for you" As Riya walked in through the front door she heard dadi's nasal voice carry through the hallway; she had had an exhausting day, the fumes of the city clinging to her clothes and still there was so long to go before she could have a moment of peace. She hadn't been able to stop thinking about that kiss; the way he had moved against her lips was like nothing he had ever done before. As though he had needed her like air... and yet... yet the shock of his words after had sliced through her heart like a serrated knife. She had woken up slightly later than usual the same morning after it had happened, her injured hand flying to her mouth as the visceral memory of his lips moving against hers felt almost as real as when it had happened. It had taken her the entire day to try and stop obsessing over it, to stop analysing it until her head felt close to bursting. Yes, she had been humiliated and hurt at the way he had dismissed her after such intimacy but... he had kissed her. She could have almost convinced herself she had imagined it if her hand wasn't so lovingly wrapped in the gauze he used to dress her wound. And so she grasped onto that one kiss that felt like it had lasted an eternity just as it felt like it had ended all too soon... if he had kissed her then it meant he still wanted her... if he had carried her and cleaned her wound then surely it meant he cared for her, if not loved her? Surely? It was more than she could ever have hoped for and yet she was hungry for more, always for more of him no matter how much she had hated him in those last few moments. The hate never lasted... it was only a reflection of her need, of her love and after the way he had touched her with his lips, she couldn't believe she had ever hated him. Hurt, yes... but not hate.
Yesterday had been beyond awkward when Nimmi and Vyom had come to visit for the first time since their marriage, and Preeti as was now her default setting had stood in the corner like a ghost, watching what her life could have been, unfold right infront of her eyes. Riya didn't have it in her to feel pity for her anymore; she had turned cold and bitter, always snapping and sniping at everyone around her including her mother. Granted, she had been forced into a marriage she felt only hatred for but she still had choices. She could have tried to change her attitude, get out the house, work, help Nandu save money until they could move on in life. But still she seemed to prefer to hole herself up in their room and expect the family to revolve around her needs. She was different, resentful and always negative. It wasn't in Riya's nature to be like this and so she kept her distance from the girl who once upon a time jumped at her own shadow. No matter how nice she had tried to be with her, she was always replied with blame and the incessant guilt-trips as though Preeti herself had had no part to play in any of it. Riya could be accommodating only so much; she might have been Shivam's sister, but it didn't mean she would keep trying to win her affections and turn herself into a complete doormat no matter how Preeti treated her.
On the other hand even with everyone spouting hatred her way, Riya had promised herself that she wouldn't quit her job. She might have been a Shanti look-a-like, but that didn't mean she was going to give up her soul to do it. Besides, if she didn't get out of this house every other day then she would surely go insane... there was only so long she could sit idle as she watched Mummyji and Chanda do the household chores. Dadi had clearly forbidden her to lift even a finger to do the housework; what was she supposed to do? Sit like a piece of furniture until Shivam returned home? No... if she went to work, albeit part time, she could keep saving money and keep herself occupied. At least this way she could keep a particle of her independence intact and she couldn't ignore the fact that she would be able to see Shivam at work, even if he outright ignored her and kept out of her way. Today he had been sent on some fieldwork; the only time she had seen him since he had practically ordered her out of their bedroom was yesterday afternoon, his handsome face animated and angry as he spoke to his sister. She had wished she had been able to read lips, but whatever he had said to Nimmi had been more of a scolding than anything else judging by her reaction, at least of that she was sure. She hadn't been able to help but notice the dark circles under his slightly sunken eyes and her ribcage had clenched around her heart as she saw the sheer exhaustion on his face. She might have been getting little sleep on the cold hard floor, but it didn't seem that the soft bed was doing him any favours either. She had so wanted to walk up to him, to caress and brush her hands through his hair the way she knew he liked... she could remember the soft rumble of his deep voice when she used to pull gently at the roots, stimulating his scalp as he lay his head on her lap after work. The memory alone had softened her features as she had looked at him achingly after Nimmi had rushed out, wishing she could have taken away whatever pain was etched on his face with her love and her warmth. But even as his eyes had swung to hers he had already looked away and she hadn't missed the way he kept clenching his left hand.
Now in the muggy afternoon heat and another day later she stood in the centre of the hallway, frowning slightly at dadi's words, "Aah...now look how beautiful your are! Khushia... put more make up on her, make her glow like the moon! Here Chanda... put this necklace on but be careful with it! Don't want it to go missing, eh?" she cackled then, "I'm joking, I'm joking!" It sounded to her like they were dressing Chanda up in dadi's room; was there a wedding or function she didn't know about? It didn't matter anyway, she was too tired to care right now and all she wanted to do was wash her face clean and drink some hot tea; her back ached and her head was banging from the incessant lack of sleep. It hadn't helped that the air conditioner in the office was on the fritz today. "Oh look... there it is, dragging herself in like a scruffy cat... come Chanda beta, come, sit with me here and face the door eh?" she ignored dadi's latest taunt, the sniping so familiar to her now that it barely registered. She could handle dadi and she could handle Preeti and Nimmi and buaji even better; Mummyji's ire was a little tougher to take but by far the worst was Shivam's hate filled words. So when dadi only looked her way with disgust, Riya found herself smiling openly at her knowing how much it irritated the old woman. Without waiting to see her response she glanced at Chanda; the young woman looked unusually decked up, the pretty and sparkling bright pink and gold sari wrapped expertly and around her petite form. Her hair was pinned up and her make-up highlighted her best features. Riya really did feel like a scruffy cat compared to her, however, she shrugged it off thinking nothing of it before making her way to the washroom. The later hours of that afternoon had seemed to drag on; spending it with her co-worker had been draining enough as he seemed more interested in her than usual. He had brought her at least four cups of tea and snacks that she hadn't been able to drink or eat owing to how busy the stall got despite the female customers flirting with him. He was a good looking man, tall and fit and he had been nice enough to her during her time at Sunhara Enterprises... but for some reason she had felt his attentions more today than ever before and she hadn't been able to help feel the prickling sensation over her skin, as if she had been watched from the shadows. It hadn't frightened her, but she had felt strange. The end of the work day hadn't come soon enough and even though she knew what awaited her at home, she was relieved that at least maybe today she would see Shivam's face. It felt so good to remove the grime and makeup from her skin; her face felt fresh and clear even if she didn't look anywhere as good as Chanda and for a change she gathered her long hair at the back of her head and tied it into a makeshift knot, needing to feel the air move across her neck. She might not have looked her best but after the day she had had at the office she truly had needed to just be herself for a few hours; she let the veil drop to the back of her shoulders and made her way downstairs to her designated spot on the lower terrace as she sipped the sweetened lukewarm tea.
*
He sat atop the powerful engine of his motorcycle for a few moments, closing his eyes and readying himself for yet another evening of inane drama at home. He didn't want to go in; he had much preferred the muggy and clammy atmosphere of the streets as he had advertised the Sunhara products to prospective customers. That was saying a lot considering what a f**king horrible day it had been. That man had been fawning all over her, running about the temporary stall like a damned headless chicken as he tried to help her pack the household products. The jealousy had stabbed at him every time she smiled at the man, even if he recognised it as politeness. It had taken all his willpower not to storm up to their stall and deliver a crunching blow to his jaw; that would have wiped off the smile from his face. What was his name? Varun. Well, whatever... it didn't bother him that he was a fairly good-looking guy; he was still an asshole. He wished she hadn't smiled at him like that; he knew she was just being polite and he knew he was being a damned hypocrite, but he hadn't been blessed with her smile in god only knew how long. Not that he had given her any reason to smile at him. He turned the ignition off and let the engine die down, his face turned up to the front door. If he was honest with himself, the only thing tempting him to walk in was her. He missed the way she looked at him even if he would never admit it to her, even if he hated seeing the longing in her eyes when he couldn't do a damned thing about it. He hadn't even seen her face since yesterday as Nimmi had stormed out of their bedroom, his bedroom. He grit his teeth, silently chastising himself for reverting back to calling everything theirs. There was no f**king "theirs" anymore, he had ripped that away from both of them hadn't he? Shivam shook his head once and slid the black helmet off before hooking it under his arm; even as he walked in he could hear dadi's cackling laughter, his teeth already clamped shut in irritation.
He couldn't have helped it; his eyes had automatically, instinctively slid to her sat in the corner out of everyone's way. He had almost stopped midstride before forcing his legs to move, unable to take in just how stunning she looked. For once she didn't have a scrap of make-up on her face, her pretty soft skin almost glowing in her natural beauty and her hair in a slightly messy but adorable knot atop her head. She looked like she did when she used to wake up next to him on Sunday mornings, simple and real and slightly tousled... he loved it when she looked like that. Like his Riya underneath the fake lipstick and the eye-shadow; like he could just touch her and her hair would come cascading down ready for his pleasure. It wasn't that she didn't look beautiful with her face made up too... but this, this simple look always undid him and he wouldn't be able to say why if anyone asked him. She just looked real to him; as though she belonged in bed with him, naked and wrapped around his body. God, get it the f**k together Shivam, he swallowed hard at the heated thought and dragged his eyes away from her seeking ones. His lower abdominals ached at the thought of her and even as his breathing hitched he decided he really needed a cold shower. It turned out he didn't need it afterall when he watched Dadi hop off her swing and walk up to him, her sickly sweet smile plastered on her face as she put her hands on his shoulders looking back and forth from him to Chanda like she was watching a tennis match. It was bizarre. It hadn't even occurred to him that Chanda was there until he noticed his mother pulling on her arm and bringing her into his view. Every time he looked at dadi now he knew the reality, he remembered the conversation he had unwittingly overheard between her and buaji. To say that he despised her was a kindness. She was like a bucket of ice, never mind a cold shower. "Dadi...namaste..." he trailed off before she interrupted as usual, "Oh look at my handsome grandson! You work so hard, you need someone special to look after you, eh? Come Shivam, go wash yourself and come down to eat. Be quick, eh... the food is still hot! Go..." Shivam looked down before looking back up at her, a tight irreverent smile on his face; he knew she didn't miss the slight look of disrespect on his face but for whatever reason she chose to ignore it. Damn you dadi, I haven't been home two minutes and you're already trying to humiliate Riya, he thought with bitterness even though he knew he would be a hypocrite and use it to push Riya away. That was his grand plan wasn't it? Join in with the rest of his insane family and make fun of the most beautiful creature in his world, in the hopes that she would leave and escape this hell stuck in the dark ages? Wasn't that what he had signed up for?! f**k! He clenched his left fist again, forcing the pain of the cut on his palm to shoot up his arm; he deserved far worse. "I'll be back in a few minutes" was all he said as he clipped out the words coolly, only nodding at his mother's unsure face before making his way up the stairs.
*
Please continue on to read Part Three- B
Cricket
