He walked out of the elevator in a hurry, carrying her over his shoulder and fidgeted in the pockets of his pants for the house key. The name plate on the door of his penthouse read "Dr. Shlok Agnihotri" He switched on the main light of his living room after shutting the door behind, and carried the woman into his house, straight to his room. He laid her down on the bed and sprinkled some water on her, but she seemed to be still unconscious. Shlok took out his first aid kit and kept it next to the table. He checked for her pulse and her heartbeat, and noticed that she had fainted due to low blood pressure. He grabbed a syringe and squeezed the medicine into the tiny barrel with the plunger. Rubbing some alcohol on her arm, he pricked the needle into her skin and soothed the pricking by rubbing the cotton on the area. He examined her face and hands - cuts and bruises all over. Her lower lip had a cut and blood oozed till her chin. Her hands had slight burns and slightly deep cuts. He cleaned the wounds using an antiseptic and bandaged them neatly. She looked like a victim of assault, and the black-beaded mangalsutra round her neck told him instantly that she was subjected to domestic violence. She seemed like a meek, timid girl, but then looks could be deceptive and no one knew that better than him.
He covered her with the blanket and turned off the light, leaving the bed lamp on. Rising from the bed, he walked to the hall after giving her one last glance and shut the door tight. He looked at the mess in his living room. Glass pieces of the photo frame shattered all over the place, rose petals carelessly strewn around, the ruins of a red-rose bouquet fallen in the corner, the unopened bottle of champagne in a tiny bucket of cold water, the two glass flutes now in pieces. He slumped on to the recliner, covering his tired face with his hands. Tears welled up in his eyes as he clenched his jaws. "Why Swathi? Why did you do this to me?" he whispered to himself.
Shlok Agnihotri was everyone's favourite in the Agnihotri family, including his five year old niece - Kavya Varadh Agnihotri. His Father, Niranjan Agnihotri, had wanted Shlok to join the family business just like his elder son, Varadh Agnihotri. But Shlok had a different dream. He wanted to be a doctor, a Dentist to be more specific. But his Mother, Anjali Agnihotri had cringed at his decision. "My son will not clean other's teeth. I don't want you to sit and extract teeth all the time" she spoke and her word was final. However, she encouraged her son to get into medicine, and Shlok finally decided on becoming a Paediatrician. Gradually the entire family was happy with the way he excelled in his studies. After four years of medical schooling, Shlok met Dr. Swathi Ahuja in the first semester of their medical internship at the hospital they were working, and the two immediately gelled well. Soon, friendship turned into love and everything went on well. He even took her to his house and introduced her to his family and they too instantly liked her. Everything was perfect, until this evening. He had brought her to their new completely furnished penthouse, which she had seen under construction since the past sixteen months. He was brimming with excitement to show her their new house, where they would stay after their wedding which was to take place in three weeks, soon after their engagement which was to be held next week. But she did not seem to reflect the same happiness. When she entered the house, she saw a bucket of ice in which the champagne was rested and two shiny glass flutes next to it. A bouquet of red roses was waiting for her at the table, while a huge photo frame, in which their picture was enlarged, hung in the center of the living room. "Welcome to our house, Future Mrs. Swathi Shlok Agnihotri" Swati passed him a faint smile and walked to the sofa, where Shlok asked her to sit down. He knelt in front of her and took her hands in his. He took her hand to kiss her knuckles, but she withdrew her hand from his as if her hand burnt by his touch. Shlok's brows raised in question as she got up from the sofa and went to the nearby window.
"I cannot marry you Shlok" she said. Silence prevailed throughout the room. Shlok sat where he was, refusing to move with her sudden announcement. "I know I loved you back then, but I realized we were too young to make a commitment for life. I tried telling you so many times, but I just did not have the courage. But today, I decided that it was now or never." She turned towards Shlok, who was still sitting in the same position, shocked by her revelation. She sat next to him on the floor and placed her hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry Shlok. I know I've hurt you and your family. But trust me. It's best for you and me. You're a nice guy Shlok. You will get a very nice woman as your life partner who will love you unconditionally. But, I'm not that woman Shlok. Sorry" she said and rose to walk out of the house, that he had once bought for her. "Why Swathi?" he whispered. She stood in her tracks and responded without looking at him. "I love someone else Shlok." Shlok's hands fisted in a ball and his breath turned heavy with rage. "Who?" he asked her, and she immediately turned around. He saw fear and love in her eyes, but not for him. It was for the man she loved. "Dr. Abhishek Verma, our senior doctor" Shlok felt the surrounding spin. "Shlok, please don't hurt him. I love him a lot. Please Shlok" Her eyes turned moist with tears. He almost laughed at the irony. He cried for her and she cried for someone else. "Get out of my house Dr. Swathi Ahuja. I have nothing to do with you" he said as he turned his back towards her. She stepped out of the house and turned back one last time. "Sorry Shlok" she said. Shlok turned around and walked up to the door, shutting the door on her face. He stood rooted to the ground for a few minutes, before he went back to the sofa and threw the flower bouquet on the floor. The delicate flowers crashed onto the ground, sending the red satin petals flying across the room. He threw the glass flutes around and walked up to the place where the photo adorned the wall. He broke the frame on the floor, and picked up the colored picture from the shattered pieces. They looked so happy in the picture. It was all just pretence for her, he thought and he burned the picture and watched as the flames turned the bright picture into ashes in no time. He felt suffocated and wanted to run away. He wanted to talk to someone, confide his pains to someone and thought of calling up his mother. But, since it was quite late and he did not want to worry her, he simply picked up his car keys and drove away in a mad rush, not knowing where he was going.
He was still lost as to what happened in the last few hours. He recalled everything, right from when he first met Swathi until she walked out on him. He was jerked out from his thoughts, when he saw a woman running towards the car and he suddenly applied brakes, halting a few inches in front of her. He was extremely pissed off. Who in their right mind would run on the streets in the middle of the night, in the middle of nowhere? He got out of the car to yell at her, probably to channel all his frustration by screaming at her, but by the time he reached her she felt dizzy. Before she could hurt herself from the impact of hitting the concrete ground, he held her and tried to make her stand steady. She only whispered "Help me" before she went unconscious. Shlok could hardly see who it was. He possibly couldn't leave her there in the middle of the street and go away. Moreover, she seemed to be injured. Not knowing what else to do, he picked her up in his arms, and drove back to his house - the same house which he had bought for Swathi. After he parked his car, he carried her and entered the elevator, pressing the button of the top most floor, leading to his penthouse. He carried her into his house over her shoulder. Irony mocked at him. He had thought he would carry Swathi in his arms over the threshold of the house after she became his wife, and here he was, carrying an injured patient to treat her wounds.
Shlok was jolted out of his thoughts and he looked at the mess of the room. It wouldn't be right to keep waiting for the next day and ask the maid to clean it up. He got up and began to clean up the entire mess in the room, after giving one glance at his bedroom in which the woman was fast asleep.
The door creaked open and he entered the dark room, looking at her sleeping form under the quilt. She heard his footfalls towards the bed, and her eyes slightly opened to see his silhouette in the dark room. He held a tub of hot water in his hand, so hot that she could see the steam rising from the tub. "Caught you" he spat at her and laughed aloud. She sat up in fear, her vocal chords refusing to go release any sound from her mouth. He held the tub of boiling water and threw it at her. "Abhayyy" Aastha almost screamed, her voice completely muted in shock, and woke up. Sweat dripped down her forehead as she realised she had been dreaming about that wretch who married her. Her breath was uneven and her throat parched dry at his mere memory. She recalled the day she was forced to marry him.
Aastha lost her parents in a road accident when she was just six years old and was brought up in an orphanage. Though life had taken away everything from her at an early age, it did not stop her from dreaming big. She always dreamt of pursuing commerce and taking up a job. Once she was capable of being on her own, she worked part time as well. During her free hours, she taught the children of the orphanage to dance; something that she had been passionate about since a child. She became a graduate in commerce and took up a job in assisting an accountant at her office. That was when Abhay set his eyes on her. He was a local goon, who kept harassing people for some sadistic pleasure. He tried to woo Aastha, but she did not give in. She even complained to the police, who were able to keep him behind bars for just one week. But as soon as he was bailed out by one of his rowdy friends, and he came seeking for Aastha. He learnt her whereabouts and kept following her every day. When she refused him plain, he threatened to get the orphanage shut down by his evil means. And that was when she gave into his demand. She married him against her will. He tried to convince her to accept her fate and live with him as his wife in all true sense. But she refused to be his. For the world, they were married, but in reality, they were complete strangers. He tried to woo her with flowers, presents and jewellery, but he failed to understand that she hated his mere sight. And that was when the torture began. He came home drunk and beat the living hell out of her, hoping that she would give up her stubbornness of not sleeping with him. He used to smoke cigarettes and blow the smoke on her face, suffocating her. He even beat her up with his belt, or any other object he got within his reach. Her hands were full of cuts and bruises and her legs bore the marks of the belt. She tried escaping many times, but every time she was on the verge of succeeding, one of his goony sidekicks would drag her back to the house, where she would be further tortured by Abhay. He made her pour cheap liquor everyday for him to drink, and when she refused once, he yanked her by the head and made her gulp down the content of the glass, almost choking her. She distinctly remembered the day when she had refused to apply henna in her hands with his name in it, and he had dipped her hand in boiling water. But he had crossed all limits this evening. He had not only tried to rape her in his drunken stupor, but also tried to stab her when she pushed him away. She had tried to lock herself in the bathroom, but he was in a mad rush of breaking open the door. She managed to sneak out through the glass window of the bathroom and kept running; running to save herself from the ruthless wretch of a man.
Presently, she looked at her hands. The cuts and bruises were neatly bandaged. She then recollected meeting that unknown stranger in the middle of nowhere. Certain fear crept into her. Who was the man who helped her out? She did not even see the person's face as to who it was, and she hoped and prayed that it was not Abhay himself whom she crashed into. When she looked around, she found herself in a strange silent room. The room was quite dark except for a tiny bed lamp that glowed on the table right next to the bed. She picked up the water jar that was on the same table and poured a glass of water to soothe her parched aching throat. She rose gently from the bed; her every single muscle aching sore, and switched on the brighter light in the room, after fumbling among the switches. Aastha was surprised to what she saw. A huge shelf of medicine-related books in the corner of the room was surrounded by several canvas of painting. The paintings were mostly bright colored, picturing a very happy woman. The face in all the paintings belonged to the same woman. She assumed it belonged to the owner of the house. The huge bed occupied most of the space, as it was placed in the center of the room. On the other side of the room, right opposite to the huge shelf, was a wardrobe that was shut tight. She looked around blankly and returned to sit on the bed, when she heard some slight noise outside the door and was alarmed. She got up and walked stealthily towards the door and opened it slightly. She saw his back in the dim light, and was sure it was not Abhay. This man seemed to be taller and slightly well-built than him. He was busy cleaning up something on the floor. She cleared her throat to indicate her presence, and he turned around to look at her. And that was when her hazel brown eyes met his pale green ones for the first time.
CID
Kyunki Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thi 2
