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5. Love or Bitterness
There's a silver lining even to the darkest of clouds, they say.
True that.
Who thought a scandal raised almost a decade ago would bring humour into my life now? No one would have ever dreamt of such a possibility. Not even the source of my humour; my employee.
As I hear the clicking of heels moving away from me, I swallow an amused smile.
Lyla was cribbing about the reschedule of my client, who could arrive any time now.
Miss Geet Handa
Or... I thought rephrasing it in my head to be Mrs. Geet Khurana.
As I see Lyla's agitation, try as I might, I couldn't suppress my laugh.
It is funny what loyalty does that to you.
Lyla, or "Loyal-la" as I address her to myself these days has been hoping and praying that I would get back to my ex. Why does she want that, I knew not, not especially when every girl dreams to be in that place herself? Girl friend of a rich, hot and successful businessman.
Few months back, I had observed Lyla's pitiful eyes following me anywhere I went. Though I observed her change in behaviour, I didn't give it much thought until that Sunday afternoon, when she gathered her wits to come to me and confess that she chanced upon few newspaper clippings when she accidentally stumbled on a file.
I need not be told which file she was talking about. Either she was wise enough or I was losing my game of being a poker player...whatever it was Lyla got the message across clearly.
She crossed her line.
It was human tendency to be curious. I understand that bit.
What remained surprising was her confessing. It was not needed. Totally uncalled for. But she did.
And watching the trembling girl with downcast eyes, who was expecting a round of verbal thrashing from her boss who has a volcanic temper, I couldn't somehow bring myself to say anything except "Bring me a coffee".
Neither of us talked about it again. And from that day I can feel an increase in her love and adoration for me.
And that love was put to testing when she received two biggest shocks of her life. (a) He's engaged to a girl, and according to some sources; was his secretary. (b) I was the designer chosen to design the bridal attire.
While his scheduled wedding was something I wasn't expecting myself, it wasn't really surprising. Everyone needs to move on at one time or the other. He did, and I am glad about it. And I being his bride's designer was a coincidence but then again that wasn't out of blue either. Mumbai is not that big place that our bumping into each other would be a rarity, especially given my career. Also, he didn't knew that Ms. Dixit is none other than the once Ms. Sameera Kapoor and since he had never once met the designer by himself nor coordinated with her in any way other than his assistant, it is not a surprise of the calmness.
Many-a-time I felt the need to go and tell the girl to calm down and that it's okay. But I didn't. Try as I might, I can't let go of this amusement she provided me with.
My thoughts are put to a stop, when I see my client arrive...
We both stood in the same room finally after an uncalled delay, which was of course my doing.
"Hello Miss Geet" I say extending my hand to her, which she shakes with a smile that lit up her features, with enthusiasm only a young girl who was getting married to the man of her dreams can show.
"Hello Miss..."
"Dixit. Sameera Dixit"
"Oh" Geet said, a thoughtful expression passing on her youthful face "Can I call you Meera?"
"Meera" he called making me stop in my tracks.
"Stop Meera"
"I am Miss Sameera Kapoor to you Mr. Maan Singh Khurana"
A memory long forgotten passed in front of my eyes, making me withdraw my hand off from her grip, as I looked away, and was grateful to find my mobile blinking with an incoming call.
"Excuse me" I find myself murmuring before asking Lyla to show my client around, to choose the designs we have proposed for each occasion.
-
The girl can talk mile a minute, I thought amused as I see her touch a fabric, while she was saying something animatedly to Lyla.
I see Lyla's resolve breaking, as the coldness she wanted to show to her crumbling down.
"Yeh toh Devdas mein tha na?" Geet asked her eyes wide as saucers "Aishwarya Rai wears this royal blue Sari"
I see Lyla's face break into an excited smile, as she got a chance to discuss her favourite; Aishwarya Rai.
As the two women talked, laughed and drooled on how hot Shahrukh's body was, I stand a few feet away observing them with a smile.
Marrying a well-known business man with a reputation as that of him; a misogynist that he was, came with its own perks. When a woman of her stature; being his secretary achieved something no one could, she was often dealt with a critical eye, and so were the articles written in the magazines whose eyes roved around her body inch by inch and gave its readers stories with juicy details.
As I see Geet now, as she was deciding amongst the choice given to her when left alone, her hand resting on her stomach and talking to herself, my eyes flit towards the article.
"Marrying a millionaire: For love or for an identity?"
The article studied about the almost invisible bump on her stomach and said they were getting married to lower down a scandal otherwise could create a ruckus. Another article questioned how could the pregnancy speculation would be true if they met only five months back.
I close the magazine as I look at the woman who was laughing away at something.
Some things are strangely speculated. A woman with her smile holding a million tragedies, eyes that held hope for a better tomorrow but scars of a nightmare can't be a gold digger. There was more to the persona of that women. The innocence her face radiated was untouched from manipulation, but not from the blows life gave her.
Neither was the love that shined through her eyes when she was with him the last time I saw them was untrue.
As I see Geet meet my eyes with a smile, I smile back. May be it was the intuition of a woman, maybe it was the wisdom life taught me, it was easy to see which smile was crafted with lies and which were with the scars that were given by life.
Hers was of the second kind.
As I walk towards the woman I wonder how similarly different we both are. Every person was given a blow or two by life, which changes the course of their life.
It's about what you take from the blows. Nurse them with love, or avenge with bitterness. The choice ought to be simple.
Love or bitterness.
I chose bitterness, she chose love.
He deserved love.
Maan Singh Khurana and Geet Handa had known each other for several years. They were colleagues, strictly professional, or so it was meant to be....
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