Note: I haven't been on india forums for a good two years. In the mean time, my account was deactivated or something or the other. Anyway, I used to be called iiDonna or DonnaHarvey and I was active on the Madhubala forum for a while, mainly as a FF writer. After the show went downhill & abruptly ended, I quit altogether. I hadn't seen a hindi drama until last night where after getting bored at a party, I turned to the TV and Ishqbaaaz (what's with the three A's?) happened to be on. It wasn't particularly interesting if not for the main couples (Shivaay-Anika & the gymrat+policewoman). I recapped it via the interwebs and now I caught up enough and inspired enough to write a story. Again, I haven't done this in two years so I may be rusty. Maybe I even lost my mojo, I let you be the judge of that. K bye!
For better or for worse, she was married to Shivaay Singh Oberoi. Anika had decided to make her peace with the situation. Love was no longer a question, it was a necessity. Or, at least affection was, if she wanted to survive the rest of her life with one flaming ball of anger by her bedside. Oh the man had no problem scooting up to her come midnight. But anytime they crossed paths in daylight, he was ready to rip her to shreds. Anika's only flaw was that she wore her heart on her sleeve. If she was hurt, he knew it before she did and boy did he use it to his advantage. He'd practically made a sport out of harassing her.
"No name, no family, no pedigree. Kudos to you for getting this far but this as far as you are going to get Ms. Golddigger. I am Shivaay Singh Oberoi and I keep two types of girls- those who are good enough to sleep with and those who are good enough to be with. Just because you made the first cut, don't think you can grab for anymore. You are only good enough to..."
Anika hadn't let him finish the sentence. She didn't know what she would have done if he'd ever told her how he really felt. There was a difference between knowing how much the man hated you and hearing it from his mouth. Atleast she had her pride for now. Atleast she knew she tried. If had said anymore, she would have broken, made to feel so small she could no longer pretend he didn't matter. The truth was he mattered, he was the only thing that mattered anymore.
"Please", she pleaded. "Leave me with my dignity". She had long learned to smile through the pain even if he could read everything she tried to hide. She hurt, she felt, she cared just as hard as him. He made her his wife in front of the world but, at home, she was no more than a warm body. She fought with herself every night as she surrendered. Maybe one day she would be strong enough to let go. Maybe one day she would be worth loving. But not today. And not by him. He needed paisa, naam, khaandaan where she had none to show. She never would, not in this lifetime. Not unless he gifted it to her- his paisa, naam, khaandaan. So, what was so wrong about wanting any of this? Sure, a rich man can mock a poor woman aspiring to wealth without a care.
But the poor woman has to live with the realities of her life everyday. She had married a rich man not because she loved him, not even because she cared for him, but because he could do for her family in one day what she could not have done in a lifetime. He could feed them, put a roof over their heads, keep them comfortable, when she had been struggling to do just that for all of her adult life.
The paisa had come first, he wasn't wrong about that. The love, or the first blush of it, had come much later. Maybe it was just her gratefulness. Never once had he let her family feel responsible. He had treated them like one of his own and for that he had earned her loyalty. She could handle his biggest tantrums if he would keep up the pretence of her joy for her family. She would repay him by loving him, or atleast by trying.
He didn't make it easy to love him. He was snarky, cynical, selfish, angry most of the time.
"Dignity, ha! Dignity is for the worthy and you, my dear, are not worthy", he huffed and she turned red. This time, it was anger without a doubt. The man could be infuriating.
"My worth is not contingent on the likes of you. Just because I grin and bear does not mean I can't dish out everything you can and more", she said and waited for his outburst.
"Nobody grins and bears it in my bed. I remember a certain wildcat clawing my back last night. Or was that not you, abla naari?"
"You! Have you no shame, speaking so openly about...", she about melted with embarrassment.
"My first time seeing an uptight gold-digger. You weren't so uptight last night", Shivaay said. He didn't know where he was leading this conversation. He'd mean to show the woman her place but the only thing that resulting was this pointless talk of dignity. Dignity? Who gave a hoot about dignity? He wanted to get laid and if this was the best way to get his wifey complacent then he would jump through the hoops. Would she hurry up and get over moral dilemma? He had love to make!
"Anika, you are a girl and girls generally can't resist me. You are also my wife which means you are duty bound to oblige me. Now hurry up and get back in bed.
"I...I don't think..."
"You aren't paid to think. You are paid to warm my bed and smile at the cameras when we're out. Now do you job!"
He'd chosen to pull back the curtain at just the right moment. He'd hurt her just enough to leave her without retort.
"Please Shivaay, I am your wife".
"You are an employee paid to be a wife. I provide for your family. If you want to see them happy, you will do asked".
He hadn't wanted to use the last threat but he knew it would be enough to bring her to heel. He didn't want her broken, just bent enough to suit him. Not shattered, just hurt enough for his needs. And she was...how marvelous was her fall.
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