One week before, the recording studio.
"Maanvi! Please help me. My stomach...Aaarrrgh" Mala doubled over screaming at the top of her voice.
The normal buzz of the recording studio, the medley of instruments and the human conversation came to an abrupt halt with that.
"What happened, Mala?" The Manager rushed to her. Followed by all the girls, including Maanvi.
They helped her to a nearest seat. Maanvi poured her some water.
"Here, have a sip. You will feel better!"
Mala was beyond all that.
"No...Please. No water. My stomach...cramps..." And sure enough, a trickle of blood could be seen running down Mala's salwar.
"Ohh My God. What is this? Please someone call the ambulance!"
The ambulance arrived promptly, a banshee of screaming siren and flashing lights. Two uniformed attendants jumped down from the rear and promptly manipulated a stretcher amongst them. And soon, Mala was helped on to it by Twinkle and Maanvi.
"Maanvi...please come with me!" Mala clutched her best friend's arm in pure agony.
Twinkle's eyes assured all possible cooperation. And a subtle go ahead.
They were received at the hospital, courtesy Twinkle's phone call and Mala was whisked to the ER. Maanvi sat in the waiting area, twiddling her thumbs. And praying for divine intervention.
What was she to do now?
Her phone buzzed, jerking her out of her thoughts. She looked at the display and was glad.
"Hi...Maanvi?
"Hi Twinkle...Glad you called. She has been taken into the ER and the doctors are looking at her. I just don't know what to do!"
"Exactly that. I just told Rahul Sir, who told me to inform the hospital authorities to give her the best possible treatment. By the way, what about her family? You know anyone?"
Maanvi tried to recollect whatever little conversations she had with Mala. And drew a blank.
"I don't know. What about her personal file? There must be a personal contact!"
"There was a number. I have tried to call, but couldn't get through. I have sent a message!"
The ER door opened and the doctor stepped out. Maanvi disconnected the call and jerked to her feet.
"Dr, how is Mala? What happened?"
"You are...her family?"
"I am her friend. We work together...People at the workplace are trying to contact her family. But please tell me. How is she?"
"Well, she is pregnant, I think you know that. And it is a complicated one. Going by the looks of it, she has had a threatened abortion. Right now, she continues to be stable, on drips and all that. But I can't do anything further without the consent of her family!"
"Ohh God..."
Maanvi immediately called Twinkle and brought her up to date. And soon enough, Twinkle joined her in the thumb twiddling session. If the family couldn't be contacted, there was little they could do.
The call came an hour later.
Twinkle glanced at the display and tugged at Maanvi's arm. Mala's personal contact!
"Hello...This is Twinkle Khurana from Sabarwal recording studio. There is a girl called Mala working here, who had given your number as a person to be contacted in case of any emergency..."
"Ok, So?" The voice on the other side was irritated. What the heck was this?
"Sir, she is right now fighting for her life in the ER of **** hospital. She is pregnant and is having some complications in that direction, so the doctor asked us to contact you for consent for further treatment!"
"And what about the charges?" Twinkle rolled her eyes at that. Mala's life was in severe danger and this person was bothered about money.
"All the charges will be borne by us, Sir. But please speak to the doctors and give consent pronto!"
"Ok...will try to be there at the earliest!"
Twinkle disconnected the call and gestured to Maanvi, who had not missed the conversation.
"What happened? Could you speak to..."
"She is conscious now. And one of you can see her now!" It was the doctor from ER.
Twinkle excused herself, citing completion of some formalities.
Maanvi cautiously made her way to Mala's side, who stared at the ceiling.
"How are you, Mala? Do you still have the stomach pain?"
Mala was saved from answering by the ring of her cellphone.
"Hello...yes, I am at the **** hospital. Please do something...you know it is your child that I am carrying. No, I haven't told anyone. But please..."
Tears trickled down Mala's anguished face as she stared at the display. The person from the other side had disconnected the call a long time back.
"Who is it, Mala? Why don't you confide with me? I am sure..."
"No, Maanvi...this is my battle. And I am going to fight it alone!" Mala sank back in the bed, sobbing bitterly. Indeed, how could she be so weak? Trick me once, shame on you. Trick me again, shame on me. And this is the third time that he has taken me on a ride. Am I the fool of the century?
"She is very weak...has lost a lot of blood. I suggest you just let her rest!" It was the nurse from ER, who had arrived to administer a sedative. And soon, Mala's eyelids drooped as the sedative coursed through her blood.
Mala's phone buzzed again and Maanvi answered it a bit hesitantly. . At least she could take a message? Mala was sleeping peacefully and she walked out of the ER to receive the call.
The other person began before she could introduce herself.
"Ok, Mala...looks like you are fine now. And what a time to be sick like this. Seriously. You should be awarded fool of the decade. Or even century! I just have to tweak my finger and you start getting horny. A bloody nymphomaniac! Or is it something to do with my personality? And you are talking about marriage. What do you think of yourself? Are you some heiress that I could settle down with you? You were just a side kick, one of those many whom I have sampled from time and again. But none of them got me into this kind of trouble. Apart from you! How many times I warned you to be careful. But No. You were hell bent on getting pregnant. Did you hope that you could tie me down with that sort of excuse? And now don't call me, OK?"
A click and the line went dead.
Maanvi hoped that there would be some better explanation to what had been conveyed to her by the unknown person. Who was he? And why did the voice seem familiar?
Yes, it was familiar. The manner in which a particular word was intonated, the familiar pause before beginning of a new sentence, the slightly nasal twang with just a hint of the Bengali accent...She just hoped she was wrong.
She looked at the display. Jaanu! Mala seriously loved this person. And had been taken for a ride! No, she would never allow this to happen. There was the police, the Women's welfare commission...including the NGO that fought for women's empowerment.
She dialled the number again. A couple of rings later, it was answered by the same voice. Albeit in a whispered tone.
"What is it now? I told you not to call me again? I am in a meeting..."
Another voice could be heard in the background. She could never forget this voice. The deep baritone of a singer par excellence. Her baba's voice. Who is it, Sujoy?
The same voice was muffled as a reply was mouthed out. Nothing, Uncle. My office colleague.
OK, Ok wrap it up fast. We need to discuss the marriage formalities. Maanvi is expected anytime!
And it clicked. She compared the Jaanu's number with the number she had saved on her cellphone. The world spun around her.
Trick me once, shame on you. Trick me again, shame on me!
*****
"Baba..." Maanvi approached her father tentatively. What would she tell him? And how? She just hoped that all this was a mistake, a prank played by someone. Or at least an explanation for all what she heard and deduced. Please God in heaven help!
"Yes, Maanvi?" Upamanyu Chatterjee was packing her suitcase neatly.
"Baba...I need to talk to you. Please...!"
"But what is it about? See, Sujoy's mother has sent the shaadi ka shagun for you. Such lovely sarees, such exquisite jewellery..."
"Baba..."
"And there is no demand for anything from us, Beta. I could never imagine..."
There was no way he was going to listen to her without an equal amount of histrionics. She tugged furiously at his kurta.
"Baba, STOP! And please listen to me!"
Upamanyu calmed down at once. His daughter was dead serious.
"Ok...speak, my child. What is bothering you?"
"This marriage cannot happen!"
Upamanyu's jaw fell open. He looked alternatively from Maanvi to her mother and back, hoping for some sort of explanation for this bizarre statement.
"Cannot happen? But why, my child?"
"Because Sujoy has been cheating us! He has already cheated another girl, in fact many girls so far. This one, my friend from the recording studio, is pregnant with his child. He is shunning away from his responsibility now, just to marry me..."
"What is this nonsense, Maanvi? That blasted Rahul has done it again, eh? corrupted your thinking process? Fed some nonsense untruths about that innocent boy..."
Maanvi was close to tears. Would her parents ever believe her? And was she justified on the first hand?
"Baba...I swear nothing like that has happened. I chanced upon this whole thing by mistake. And believe me, I sincerely wish it was all a prank..."
The conversation that flowed after that was quite interesting. One side full of scepticism, assuming it to be a piece of deceptive villainy and the other was trying to find some sane explanation out of it. And slowly, as the facts got revealing, the balance changed. Upamanyu and Shilpa watched dumbfounded as Maanvi showed them Mala's mobile with Sujoy's number stored as Jaanu' and relaying the entire course of events.
A tiny bit of scepticism still remained.
Upamanyu dialled the number from Mala's mobile. Only to get the worst shock of his life.
Mala please...dont call me again. I admit, whatever happened between us was a mistake. Entirely yours. Who had asked you to get pregnant? Now go for a third abortion. Second thing, it is all over now. And now I am getting married to a nice girl suggested by my parents. And don't even think of squealing to her. Nobody will believe you now. Everyone will think that Rahul is behind all this. I have managed to brainwash the family to this extent...'
Upamanyu never knew what hit him. Only a throbbing headache that exploded behind his eyes in a cataclysmic burst of lights followed by a wave of warmth that spread over his earlobes. With a keening cry, he sank to the ground impervious to the scream of people around him.
Maanvi sat outside the ER for the second time that day. What was being conveyed to her by her fate? Was she a glutton for punishment?
The ER door opened and people around her jerked to attentiveness. With an expression alternating between hope and despair, they rushed to confront the poker faced doctor.
"Well...He has suffered a stroke. A major blood vessel has burst in the brain and he needs surgery urgently. Now, I have contacted the surgeon and he is on his way. But you need to complete a few formalities beforehand..."
"Doctor...and what about the charges"? Shilpa's hesitant voice interrupted the flow.
"Well, it would come to about 5 lakhs, give or take a lakh here and there. Please deposit the amount in the accounts dept of the hospital as fast as possible so that we can begin the preparations for his surgery further.."
The doctor's passive voice droned on. Maanvi sank to the bench with Shilpa sobbing helplessly nearby. Five lakhs. A neat sum. And how...and from where could they arrange for it? Her family was already in the red!
Harsh, her brother grasped her hand.
"Rahul Sabarwal?"
Maanvi shook her head. She had already rubbed him the wrong way. More than once. Accused him of all the wrongdoings. Even declared her hatred. Asked him to stop meddling in her personal life.
Why would he help her now? He had helped her in the past without asking for any clarification.
A shadow crossed her visual horizon and she jerked to attention.
Raj Sabarwal stood in front of her.
Bade Achhe Lagte Hain
