Part 1- The Unforgettable Party
For Kabir, all business parties were the same. The aura of falseness and elegance was always prominent in the air. Women gossiped and bitched about the actresses and the younger businesswomen, while men discussed stock markets and new chicks in town.
He wanted to go back, snort on cocaine, pick up the brush and paint. His tongue almost itched at the thought of cocaine. He smirked at the girl who was eyeing him. He could see the lust in her eyes, but he wasn't in the mood to get laid today.
Viraj looked at his brother, thankful that he didn't look drunk. Viraj hated to see his father force his opinions on Kabir, but had no say in front of him. He wanted to just take Kabir away from there, but he was forced to stand at the bar and talk to his 'friend' till he would get sloshed. In his career as a businessman, Viraj knew that considering anyone as a friend was equal to committing a huge mistake.
Kabir's body seemed to be on fire. It had been several hours since he had taken drugs. He decided to sneak out of the party venue and get home, or at least call Ashraf and ask him to deliver some powder there, at the party venue itself.
Making sure that none of his family members were looking at him, he walked out. The girl in the s**tty red dress still had her eyes on him, but he didn't need her right now.
He sighed in relief as the cold breeze touched his face, calming his senses. He walked in the garden, knowing that doing so, might relieve him. Soon, he was in the backyard, where no one was present.
But as he walked a little further, he was surprised to see a girl, dressed in black dress. He didn't want any intruders right now, so he decided to leave.
"I was just leaving," He looked at the girl in surprise and soon, shock. Her dress seemed to be torn to pieces. The white skin glittered against the moonlight through the destroyed cloth.
He took off his jacket and handed it to her, studying her. Her makeup was spread across her face and her lips were swollen. Her skin was almost red.
He sat on the bench.
"You can stay." she nodded and sat besides him. There was silence between them for a few seconds.
"Husband?" He asked. She nodded.
"He got sloshed and well, I ran away from him." She said, without giving her words a thought.
"Can I help you?" He asked.
"No. Its fine. I have called my driver, he'll be here in half an hour."
"And your husband?" "He can f**k one of the prostitutes that pimp will arrange for him," She snorted.
"You look a mess."
"My life is a mess, now my flesh reflects it, big deal?" She shrugged. Kabir had this crazy urge to kiss her on the shoulder, that was plain red.
"You should have kicked him in his balls," He said, but then laughed at his own hypocrisy in his head.
"I could just chop them off, instead," She said, looking at the sky.
"You should have," Kabir couldn't help but laugh this time. She smirked.
"Did anyone tell you that you are beautiful?" She asked him.
"Plenty of them," Kabir smirked. "In bed," he continued with smirk, hinting differently.
"So you are one of those 'bigade baap ki bigadi aulad' types bas***ds?" She looked at him.
"Ouch! That hurt!" He laughed.
"And what do you do? Other than getting laid?"
"I paint. Though I have never seen a masterpiece like you, a broken bitch!" She smirked.
"Nice one. I may look broken, but I am not a bitch," "And I am not a bas***d," They looked at each other and smiled.
"Why did you marry him?"
"I was sold to him, more like. My father was in debts, and he helped, so my father decided that to repay him, he should get his daughter married." She threw he hands in the air and sighed.
"You hate him? Your father, I mean?"
"He never considered me a human, and humans feel emotions, I shouldn't," He nodded. Somewhere, he felt as if she was speaking on his behalf. His father may not have got him married to a bas***d, but he did overlook Kabir's choices and passions, which was the main reason he had gotten into drugs, to show his father that he could rebel.
He gazed at her. She didn't have that hourglass figure that girls flaunted back at the party, but she carried the dress well (even if it was torn) Beneath the makeup, Kabir knew her skin was flawless.
He knew he shouldn't feel the urge to get physical with her, that she would kick him and hurt him for doing so, but he wanted to hold her. At least touch her. He wanted to know how she would feel beneath his fingers.
"You didn't tell me your name?" She asked him, breaking his chain of thoughts.
"I thought we shouldn't reveal our names to each other, because I am sure you don't want the media to your husband's name and his behaviour towards you,"
"Right. As much as I hate him, I care for him. Ugh! I feel so mad and confused. How should I feel about him?"
"I don't know, maybe you shouldn't feel anything?" "I guess!"
"What do you feel about me?" He asked. She was taken aback." Excuse me?"
"I am sorry, I shouldn't have asked that, the question makes no sense," He faked a chuckle to make it look silly.
"I don't know how I should feel about you, too," She said, solemnly. He looked at her in surprise.
" I know you are a stranger, but I feel as if you can connect to my pain, your eyes say so," She continued.
He nodded.
"My father, well, he wanted me to join his business and I never really liked it. The whole thing is so fake and superficial. I wanted to explore the world, explore the emotions, the masterpieces, the paints. He never allowed that. So when I was eighteen, I almost committed suicide, my elder brother saved me. Then, I cam across my drug dealer at a rave party and from then on, only my elder brother, my paintings and drugs matter to me. My father refused to pay attention to me, but he needs to bring me to such parties, after all we should fake a happy family thing, right?"
"Your mother?"
"Passed away when I was ten,"
"My mother couldn't do anything to oppose the marriage, I don't blame her though, it's not her fault that my dad thinks that he can control us,"
"I like this. Without knowing each other, we are sharing our lives with each other,"
"I like it too. Tomorrow morning, we both will forget about this whole thing and go back to our lives, yet somewhere, remember each other,"
"That's a weird irony," He chuckled. She nodded and continued to gaze at the stars.
"I wish I could run away,"
"Me too,"
"Maybe we could escape this moment," She said, gazing at him.
"How?"
Before he knew it, she kissed him. He lips felt dry yet sweet. They tasted of vodka and chocolate. He wanted to further taste her, but pulled away.
"This is wrong, you are married to someone else."
"So is my husband, but he f**ks other women?"
"I am not a prostitute," Kabir almost yelled.
"You are special, and I know that" She said. She looked away. He could see regret in her eyes.
Why did he spoil this?
"I am sorry," She said and stood up to leave.
"Your driver isn't here yet, and you shouldn't leave, like this," He pointed at her torn sleeve. She sat back.
"It felt wrong," Kabir muttered.
" It felt like one of the few right things I have ever done," She said. He looked at her, her eyes seemed to invite him. He kissed her. She smelt and tasted of vodka. The fruity smell of her shampoo hit his senses mixing with the smell of vodka. She refused to let him enter, so he bit her lip, gently. She mourned. Soon, their tongues were fighting for dominance.
His fingers made patterns on her waist. The thin netted cloth did nothing to hide the softness of her skin. Her fingers ran crazily in his hair, messing it up. She pulled back, gasping for breath.
"Why can't my husband make it this special?" She asked.
"Because he is a dickhead," He smirked as he planted a kiss on her shoulder. He looked at her. Her lips were swollen, again. She touched her lips.
"Don't worry, they were bleeding a few hours back." Her mobile rang. She looked at the called ID and stood up to leave.
"I would love you to paint my sketch. Your broken bitch!" She smirked as she handed him his jacket and left.
Kabir was stunned.
Chakravarti Samrat Prithviraj Chauhan
Mangal Lakshmi
