Omkara studies the house. It had once been a decent building. But even in the scanty light of the street lamps, it is evident that it had been some time since the owners had renovated. Many of the windows were boarded over with cardboard in lack of wood. The roof over the portico had once been tiled over but now weeds grew through cracks. In broad daylight, Om thinks it safe to assume, a municipality worker would have no difficulty in declaring the building unfit to live in.
His research had discovered that Ishaana Mehta rented the ground floor rooms of the building and lived there with a man who was probably her father and another girl, who, once again, Om could only guess, was her sister. This was because they did not share the same surnames. The man was known as Antonio Fernandez in the liquor store he worked in while Ishaana's sister was registered in the local public school as Amrita Patel. Considering Ishaana's profession, he hadn't been surprised to discover this. The neighbourhood itself was one that had seen better days. Garbage lay littered across the narrow street. The street lamps cast bleak pools of light that did little to illuminate the place. Sounds of a television programme playing could be heard from a nearby house.
In his car, Om wonders for the thousandth time why he is here, sitting in the dark, watching the house of a woman who was essentially a stranger to him. He had once again stormed out of the Oberoi Mansion, hoping a drive would cool him down. And once again the roads had conspired to bring him to this house at the end of nowhere. He wonders if somewhere within him was a desire to see that woman. But that was not likely. There was nothing he might want from her. She was hardly the most trustworthy person among his acquaintance. And the only thing he wanted now was to regain the faith he once had, not to destroy it even further. Yet, he doesn't leave. He observes the house and tries to tell himself it was because he might do a sketch of it.
His reverie is broken by a loud thumping on the window of his car.
"Hey you!!" he hears faintly being shouted at him.
Turning his face, he sees a woman bent down, thumping on the rolled up glass pane with her hand. In her other arm she holds a bag full of what looks like grocery items. Her face is half hidden in the shadow of the sheet of hair hanging loose but he would know her if she came wearing a burqa. Her voice is unmistakable. The way her hair falls free like that, he had seen countless number of times when in the past she had taken to haunting the art studio. He contemplates whether he should just drive off. And then he presses the button and the glass rolls down noiselessly.
"What do you think you are doing blocking the road like ---" she begins heatedly but then pauses as Omkara's face becomes visible under the soft light of the street lamp.
"You!" she shouts in a half-strangled tone. Her arm loosens and the bag of groceries falls with a thud. Om opens the door and steps out.
She doesn't look at him. Om watches her hurriedly pick up the items that had rolled out of the bag. There was an onion lying at his feet. She leaves it there and gets up with a jerk.
"What are you doing here?!" she hisses, her eyes looking everywhere but at him. Om wonderes if he should tell her that he didn't know the answer to that himself. Would she believe him if he did?
But she probably reads something in his silence.
"You should park the car in that alley," she throws at him, turning around and beginning to walk towards her house. The alley was right next to the entrance to her house. Om gets into his car. For a moment he thinks of leaving but then surprises himself by parking the car in that empty spot. Then he gets out and walks with sure steps towards her house.
She is there before the door, fumbling around in her bag for the key. A light hanging from the ceiling casts a dim halo around her shining hair. Lucifer was an angel, Om thinks.
"Don't remember inviting you in!" she grits out as she tries in vain to balance the grocery bag and unearth the key from her purse at the same time.
Without a word, Om relieves her of the heavy grocery bag. She fishes out the key and unlocks the door. Inside somewhere a stereo is playing some random Bollywood number.
When she steps in, Om follows. She doesn't stop him.
She leads him down a dark hallway and enters a tiny kitchen overshadowed by a huge refrigerator that made clanking noises. Om places his burden on a rickety old table that stands in the centre of the room.
"You're still here," she tells him pointedly and then proceeds to ignore him by busying herself with putting away items from her purse and her bag into the fridge and the faded out meat safe in one corner.
Om watches her work. The way she moves around the kitchen has none of the delicacy of posture or movement that she had once shown when she paraded herself before him as someone else. It disorients him slightly and he has to brush away the feeling that he was standing before an entirely different person. A thought crosses his mind.
"Why did you pick me?" he finds himself asking.
"For what?" she asks in return, her eyes cold, pausing between washing her hands and picking up a bag of rice.
"Don't play games with me Ishaana! I'm not here to play games!" he replies heatedly, surprising himself.
"Why are you here?!" she finally swings around and resting her hands on the table, gives him her complete attention.
There is no softness in her. Om suddenly remembers a woman on the steps of the library, bruised and broken. That disorienting feeling returns twice fold.
He edges away from the wall he had been leaning on and comes closer to her.
"Was I the easy target?" he asks, making sure to keep his voice calm,level.
A smile begins to form at the corner of her mouth.
"Were you?" she asks in return and then starts measuring out cups of rice into a pan.
He wants to strangle her but as she performs the mundane task of preparing a meal, he finds it oddly calming. It is something like what he might have once felt while watching Shivay cook. But unlike Shivay, she takes no pleasure in her task and performs it with speed and expertise that comes from routine habit.
The door opens and a girl sticks her head in. For a moment she seems taken aback to see a man in the kitchen and stands there gaping.
Ishaana hands her something hurriedly and almost pushes her out of the room. As the girl leaves, Ishaana opens the door once more and shouts out into the hallway, "Dinner be ready soon!"
"That's your sister?" Om asks.
"That's none of your business," she replies with a scowl marring her perfect features.
Om shrugs. "I thought I was your business at one point," he says.
"Are you trying to gather some kind of evidence against me?" she asks, her brows furrowing. "I thought your detectives already tried to do that quite aggressively."
Om stands there, silent. The pot of rice on the hob bubbles away merrily.
"If you ask me again, we never met!" she says angrily, his silence grating on her nerves.
"I once tried to make a sketch of you," Om says, slowly, almost lost in his own thoughts. She snorts.
"I am not here to charge you with anyth--" he begins but she cuts him short.
"There is nothing for you to charge me with!" Her defensiveness makes her angrier, quicker to react. She had lost a lot of sleep over the possibility of a fleet of police arriving at their door over the past few months.
Om rubs his face with his palms. Then he looks straight into her eyes and spells out slowly, "I just want to know if you chose me as your target because I was naive and stupid!" While he begins with utter calm, by the end, he is close to shouting.
She stills and stares at him.
His breath comes in harsh bursts now and he watches her bite into her lips.
She mumbles something at the end. He doesn't quite hear her.
"For your goodness!" she says louder this time round.
Om stares and she continues, "I thought you would be the only one who would do the right thing."
It is now his turn to snort. "You clearly hadn't done your research well," he says, his eyes leaving her face.
*************
Ranveer has no difficulty in finding the narrow iron gate. Bougainvillea plants had grown through the trellis structure and had it not been described to him, he would have walked past it without turning a eye. The gate is a sudden break in the row of tall hedges that served as the wall to this part of the property and is easy to miss. He waits in the dark, swatting at errant mosquitoes and garden flies. Growing impatient, he takes out his phone and dials the number. The phone rings once and then is answered.
"I'll c-c-call you back," comes from the other end before he can say anything and the line is cut. He stares at the phone screen for a second in disbelief and his temper rises a notch higher.
It is about fifteen minutes or an hour later as he is pacing before the gate that he hears the sound of soft footsteps and then the gate swings open with a creak that sounds too loud in that still night.
"Why weren't you answering the phone?!" he says with irritation even before he steps in.
"C-come in," she says hurriedly and half pulls him in and shuts the gate.
He stumbles and rights himself.
"Rudra B-b-bhaiya was with me," she says, somewhat annoyed. "I c-couldn't p-p-possibly g-get away or t-t-talk."
"Well.." he begins.
But she isn't finished. "He's t-t-trying to ch-ch-cheer me up."
Ranveer gives a sniff. Priyanka falls silent. They stand together in the dark for some time until Priyanka remembers herself.
"C-c-come, someone m-m-might s-see us."
Ranveer doesn't reply but follows her. In the darkness, he can somewhat make out her white figure and they go down the narrow garden path until they reach a row of hedges. It is less dark here. The garden lamps in the distance light the place up partially. She leads him to what turns out to be a maze and after a few turns, they reach a stone bench and they sit.
"For obvious reasons, we do not want this marriage to happen," he begins without preamble. His voice is business-like, as if he is about to give a presentation or briefing. "But those close to me have taken it in their heads that this is the best thing to have happened to me."
Priyanka sits there, her fingers clutching at the white cotton dress she is wearing.
He doesn't look at her. He fixes his eyes on the stone sundial and speaks as if addressing the air.
"I think the best thing would be for you to just tell your family that this is impossible. I'm sure you have a boyfriend so--"
She speaks now, cutting him short.
"D-d-don't," she says.
"Sorry?" Ranveer turns towards her, despite himself.
"M-m-my family isn't l-l-like th-that," she says haltingly. Her eyes are wide and fearful.
"Your brothers have had strings of girlfriends. It's been all over the newspapers. Oh!" He stops, suddenly realising a lot more about the Oberoi household than he might want to.
He eyes her uncomfortably.
"They d-d-don't want a scandal about me," she says in the silence.
"Any boyfriends?" he asks faintly hopeful.
She shakes her head. "Th-there w-was s-s-someone." Randhawa's eyes focus on her. "Th-they wanted m-m-me t-to m-m-marry him."
"So he's your fiance?!" Ranveer's voice is incredulous now, but an almost smile appears at one corner of his lips.
She shakes her head again. "No. Th-they d-d-discovered he was illegitimate a-a-and ended it."
Dev's face rises before her eyes, full of innocent charms. She suddenly feels as old as the hills.
He is tired of this. He wants to leave. Ranveer leans back against the seat and his eyes inadvertently turn towards the sky filled with stars. For a moment, he stares, forgetting himself. And then he is back once more on the cold earth and the familiar feeling of helpless anger and bitterness envelops him.
Sighing, he looks at her sitting, head downcast. "We need to think up something to stop this. I called you after your family left. I had hoped that you could talk to them, make them see reason." He is angry now. He was supposed to have regained control over his life.
"Anyway, I should be leaving now. It's getting late." He rises and waits for her to get to her feet. She doesn't speak but they walk out of the maze. Again Ranveer's eyes turn skywards. It had been ages since he went stargazing. Memories of nights on the terrace, full of laughter and affectionate embraces are mixed in with the wonder of a sky full of diamonds.
He steps forward and finds himself suddenly losing his footing. Instead of solid ground, he lands on what appears to be water. Priyanka yelps at the sound of the sudden splash. Turning around, she finds Ranveer in the lily pool.
***************
She brings him to another room. Omkara notices how desperate she is to avoid him meeting her family. This is more of a study though a narrow bed stands at one corner. The walls are covered with soft boards and newspaper cuttings of what appears to be advertisements. Back in the kitchen, he assumes her sister and father are sitting down for the dinner she had prepared.
His shock at her bringing up the accident is yet to wear off though and he stands near the door, watching her with wary eyes. Knowing her, he wonders why she hadn't used this information.
"They lied to you," she says, in a most matter-of-fact tone. He starts visibly.
"I found out," she says, and a look of something akin to pride flashes across her face, before she hides it. "I always do."
He staggers slightly as he moves closer towards her. She backs up against the wall, as her face pales a bit. She speaks hurriedly, "The girl didn't die. The hospital told you that so that you wouldn't do something stupid like turn yourself in."
Omkara stares. "You're lying!" he says, face crimson with bottled rage though it is not directed at her, not really.
She watches him, her eyes not entirely calm, "The girl's family was also not informed about you. The nursing home covered it up."
Daadi's face flashes before him. Smiling at him benevolently. Hugging him, teasing him as he lay head on her lap, telling him of Daadaji and her 'anokhi ishqbaazi'.
He tries again, to prove her to be the liar she was. "Do you know the family? Where is the girl now?!"
She shakes her head. "They shifted her away. Her family moved. I couldn't trace them."
He narrows his eyes and he approaches her slowly. "Why should I believe you?" he grits out.
With her back against the wall, Ishaana looks straight into his eyes and says, "Why should I lie to you?"
"You did once," his voice is harsh.
"Yes, and it was I who went to you then. I had a purpose. But now I wasn't the one waiting outside your house. You came here!" She finishes forcefully.
Om towers over her and yet she looks back at him, defiance coursing through every pore. "Prove you aren't lying then!" he says.
"How can I prove that?!" she asks in biting tones.
"Find out who that girl was! Get me information about her family."
She tries to edge out now but he stops her by caging her between his raised arms. "I'll pay you!" he says finally.
Ishaana's surprise is hard to miss and she studies his face for a moment, quite unfazed by his proximity. And then slowly she nods her head.
*****************
Priyanka reaches out slowly, tentatively as Ranveer glowers at her outstretched hand.
"You didn't think it necessary to warn me about this!" he bites out as he wades through the lilies and makes his way towards her. The pool isn't too deep and he only has to walk through the water but the leaves get in his way and slimy plants entangle his legs.
The image of the tall giant of a man struggling through slimy water is altogether too ridiculous and Priyanka surprises herself by giggling.
To see her laughing at him simply pushes him over the edge and he takes her hand and gives a sharp tug. Instead of him regaining his feet on the ground, she lands in the water and the resulting splash sends water flying everywhere. Priyanka stands there, horrified, trying to wipe the water streaming down her face.
"Not so funny now, is it?" he taunts. In the soft light of the garden lamps, Priyanka sees him, his hard chest visible in places through the wet shirt. His angular face with lines of water trickling down it, seems softer somehow. She draws in her breath as she catches his eyes and knows that he had followed the journey of her gaze. She grows crimson and then wants to burst into flames as he replies in kind. His eyes move over her face, and travels southwards. A sudden thought occurs to her and she looks down and gives another yelp. The white cotton dress was now wet! To cover her modesty, she pulls at the leaves floating around her and cowers under the water.
He shrugs as if dismissing her and turns towards the edge of the pool. He finds solid earth and pulls himself up and then turns back and puts his hand forward, towards her.
She is faced with a difficult and impossible choice. She dithers and then takes his hand. With one hard pull he brings her on the bank and there she lies for a moment, gasping. The cold night air freezes her through the wet clothes. He is up on his feet by now and trying to wring water out of his shirt. It is an impossible task. Priyanka's eye turn towards her room. It is only a little distance away. Oh if only she had thought to bring a shawl with her!
He gives out a sound of exasperation as he finds another bit of weed around his neck. "This is disgsusting! Why would you have a frog pond in the middle of the garden!" he asks angrily.
"Not a frog pond!" she says through chattering teeth as the cold hits her. Ranveer notices.
"You should dry yourself," he says slightly annoyed at himself.
And that's how he ends up in Priyanka Oberoi's room, drying himself with her towel.
NEXT
Anupamaa
Seher Hone Ko Hai
