Hello! I am kind of new to this forum since I have come across the show only recently. Since then I have read some of the fanfiction here and you might have seen me comment on a thread here and there.
Anyway, since I obviously could not get this pair out of my head, I wrote a short story on them. This is a 'What If' scenario. What if Pallavi stumbled across Raghav Rao in a club...
They do act a bit out of character here but I wanted to get the vibe that was present in that moment when Raghav accepted the money Pallavi had come to his house to return. Also I made up some details about Mandaar's death and some other peripheral things like the kind of business establishments Raghav Rao may or may not own. Anyway, enough of an intro. Do let me know what you liked or didn't about this story. I would love feedback from anyone who takes the time to read this. And so without further ado....
Pallavi found her eyes returning to the young couple who stood near the entrance to the night club. Their bodies were plastered to each other, exploring hands and lips moving to the music that spilled out from the joint. Nikhil had gone to check with the security if they had seen someone matching Amruta's description. Pallavi forced herself to continue scanning the crowd. Half an hour ago Mansi had received a phone call from the brat. Drunk out of her wits, Amruta's slurred speech was almost drowned out by the thumping rhythm in the background. Mansi, whose mehndi was to be in a week's time was going out to meet her fiancé's family. And so by a curious turn of events, Pallavi Deshmukh now found herself standing in front of Whistle, a nightclub, on a Saturday night.
Dialing Amruta's phone once again in the hopes the girl might answer, Pallavi's eyes turned towards the entrance. Past the crowd of glittering shapes and raucous laughter, she spotted Nikhil who by the looks of it was not getting the response they needed. The guard, a hulk of a man, was shaking his head in the negative. Nikhil was beginning to show signs of exasperation. Pallavi felt it was time she stepped in. As she made her way through the groups of fashionably dressed partygoers milling about, Pallavi felt someone shove against her. A man, clad in black shirt, sleeves rolled up, who was also walking towards the club. As she grimaced for the rude jolt he had given her, he turned back and looked at her. His face wore a fierce frown which slowly disappeared. His eyes took on a look of appraisal even as his lips curved in what must have passed for an apologetic grin. But the look in his eyes, Pallavi had no word to describe. It was only for a moment and he had turned around and walked on with swift strides, the crowd parting before him as if sensing his approach.
Pallavi rushed towards Nikhil. The sooner they were done with finding Amruta, the sooner they could leave this place.
"Madam, firstly, we cannot let just anyone in. There is a list for reservations. You are not on it and neither is the name you told me. Also--"
here the bouncer paused and gave her a look of irritation as he passed his eyes over her saree clad self.
"There is a dress code and you are not following it."
"We are not here to party. We are just looking for someone--", Pallavi tried to reason.
"Isn't everybody?" Someone spoke from behind. A rough voice laden with the subtle thickness of the Telegu accent. Pallavi whipped around and found herself facing that man who had earlier shoved into her. He wore a light smirk. The smirk widened as unknown to herself Pallavi's brows tightened into a frown.
He appeared to be a regular as the bouncer quickly opened the door, pausing only to wish him a very good evening. VIP, Pallavi thought. The man was about to go ahead and enter, when something made him pause.
"Is there a problem, Srikanth?" He asked the bouncer.
"They claim a family member is inside. A girl. They're here to look for her." The bouncer's tone pronounced his total disbelief in any such claim.
If Pallavi had felt discomfited by the look in his eyes earlier, it was nothing to how she felt under his gaze now. He had turned around and she had his full focus.
"They can come in as my guests." He said, the roughness in his voice more pronounced.
The man unsettled her. Without hesitating, Pallavi began to refuse his offer.
"No, it's alright. We'll figure something---" the words tumbled out of her.
Nikhil interrupted. "Di, we need to go in and this seems to be the only way."
Pallavi saw the man lift his eyebrows but he remained silent, waiting for her to speak.
"Alright then. If you will be so kind--" Pallavi tried to keep her voice calm.
Without letting her finish, the man spoke to Srikanth.
"So sign them in. ID them. Then it should be alright."
And he waited as Nikhil and Pallavi signed their names, entered their ID and allowed the bouncer to give them the once over with a metal detector. None of this had been done to the gentleman, Pallavi mused. VIP indeed.
And then they were inside. The foyer dipped into a large hall. The floor was packed. Strobe light flashed to the beat of the music. The very sight had Pallavi's heart sink. How were they ever to find Amruta in this madness? Nikhil was telling her something. She could barely make out what he was saying. And then he was off and Pallavi lost him in the crowd. Tamping down the wave of nervousness that rose in her, Pallavi tried to search through the darkness. Suddenly she felt someone's breath next to her ears.
"So how do you plan to go around looking for your family member?"
The wisp of breath near her ears was such an unfamiliar sensation, Pallavi nearly jumped out of her skin in shock. It was that man in the black shirt. His face glittered as the strobe light hit him.
"We'll manage." she tried to say. Her voice felt like a whisper in that din. Even in that world of flashing light and darkness, she felt he wore that smirk. As if he knew exactly how nervous she was at that moment. And so she turned around leaving him behind and entered the crowd.
**********************************
It was one thing to stand at the edge looking at the throng and quite another to walk through this absolutely pulsating mass of human bodies. Boys and girls... No. Men and women moving to the beat, bodies entwined. The air heavy with the scent of cologne mixed with something undefined. She looked around her. Amruta. Not here. Pallavi walked further in, the flashing lights acting like a beacon. Suddenly she felt someone move up behind her. Hands took hold of hers and she found herself being pulled against someone's body. As she pried her hands away and whipped around, she saw a man grinning at her. He gave her what could only be called a leer before backing into the crowd.
"If you wanted to dance, you only had to ask." The tickle of breath at her ears again. Pallavi looked up. Black shirt was back. And this time he did not let her walk away. Taking her hand in his, he drew her deeper into the throbbing sea of dancers. She wanted to take her hand back but his hold, while not hurting her, nonetheless had a firmness to it that brooked no resistance. Yet as she felt herself being pulled further in, her attempts to escape grew in degree. The man acted like he barely noticed. By the time he had loosened his grasp a bit, she had lost all will to pay attention to the crowd around her, focusing only on trying to extricate her hand from his. When he did loosen his grip, Pallavi saw he had pulled her out of the crowd and drawn her towards a relatively empty corridor. He came to a halt before a door. And then he let her go. Before she could mouth the many angry words that had been building within her, he bent forward and spoke against her neck, "Check the ladies'."
Pallavi finally noticed where he had brought her. Of course. She should check the ladies toilet.
Nodding, she went in. A huge bathroom with many cubicles. Girls in glittering evening dresses were there before the mirrors, waiting in queues at the stalls, laughing as they shared some gossip near the hand dryer. Bright young things.
Pallavi moved through the cubicles, the queues. Amruta was not here. Where had the girl gone?
She came out. He was standing there, eyes on his phone screen. Leaning against the wall, he was hard to miss. As she tried to study him before he noticed her return, he turned his head and stared straight at her. As she bridged the short distance that lay between them, Pallavi was left in a state of agitation that had little to do with her missing sister. All she wanted was to appear calm before this man who somehow made her very very nervous. When he brought his mouth close to her ears, she told herself she would not let him see how skittish she felt.
'Come with me." was all he said.
He brought her to a room which was clearly meant for the security. Computers lined one wall while two men now stood next to their desks.
The man in the black shirt turned to her, "Around what time do you think this girl you are looking for came here?"
Pallavi tried to think. "She left home around 6"
"And the club doesn't open till 7.30." The man in the black shirt spoke slowly, his eyes raking over her body even as he addressed the men in the room, "Could we see the entrance footage from tonight 7.30 onwards?"
Pallavi tried to focus on the screen as she felt him standing behind her. Even though he wasn't leaning over her, crowding her in or doing anything that might make her feel uncomfortable, she was deeply conscious of his presence. It felt almost like a tingle under her skin, insistent, calling to be rubbed away and yet out of reach.
And then he spoke, in a low whisper, quite possibly only to himself and not so that she can hear.
"This club could do with a change in the dress code."
It could have meant a hundred different things but Pallavi thought she knew exactly what he was thinking. She felt her ears go hot while her fingers unknown to herself clutched at the saree end. She wanted to wrap the pallu around her but did not want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that his words had affected her in any way.
Thankfully even in this state of confusion she did not miss the figure of Amruta lining up before the security guard and entering the club at precisely fifteen minutes to eight with a group of youngsters.
Mission accomplished, Pallavi turned excitedly forgetting the awkwardness that only moments ago had taken over all other thought and flashed an absolutely dazzling smile at Black shirt, pointing towards the screen. Mind focused on Amruta, she did not notice the way his eyes widened at the change that smile had wrought over her face.
It was the work of another ten minutes to confirm Amruta's current location through the CCTV feed from inside the club premises. She was with her group of friends in one of the private clubbing rooms booked under the name of one Siddhant Ahuja. Pallavi felt it was time she called Nikhil.
**********************************
A security guard accompanied them as they used a master key to enter the room. It was absolute madness within. Nikhil was the first to spot his cousin in that crowd. He leaped towards Amruta who was sitting at one end of a couch, head resting on the table, an arm swaying wildly to the beat of the music. Nikhil pushed and shoved his way through the revelers. Some of the boys had gotten on the tables and were trying to perform thumkas while the girls whistled and cheered them on. Others were performing their version of the twist on the floor. Not a single one of them paid any attention to the angry young man pushing them away as he made his way through the party. What was another shove in a world that was swaying quite enough already?
The next task fell to Nikhil as he tried to get Amruta to come with him. It was a challenge since Amruta protested. First she tried to pretend she was glued to the table. When Nikhil managed to detach Amruta from her perch, instead of using his arms to support herself, Amruta swayed away from Nikhil. Pallavi watched in a sort of horrified fascination as Amruta proceeded to leap on a boy's shoulder and then raise her voice to sing something completely different to the song blasting out at that very moment. Nikhil tried to separate his cousin from the boy while at the same time casting threatening glances towards the young fellow. Neither Amruta nor the boy seemed to notice Nikhil's actions until he succeeded in getting Amruta off the boy's shoulders.
"Stop being such a pyaar ke dushmannn!" Amruta wailed as she stretched her hands out towards the boy.
"Are you one too?"
Pallavi leaped as Black shirt leaned close to her to ask. He had found that smirk once again.
"Are you also a pyar ke dushmann?" He stressed the last syllable mimicking Amruta's tone.
Pallavi rounded on him. Perhaps having Nikhil and Amruta around helped but she found it in her to meet his eyes now. They glittered in the flashing disco light.
"Look here! If you try this again, I will--"
He didn't let her finish. Bending towards her, eyes aglitter, he said, "Call the cops?"
His voice was soft, even though he spoke in the midst of so much sound.
Momentarily unsettled by the way his voice carried over the noise, Pallavi stopped before continuing,
"No! But I will contact the manager!"
The man in the black shirt gave a short laugh.
"You want to contact the manager?" He asked her again, now leaning away and running a hand through his hair to push away the curls that fell on his forehead.
With him moving away, Pallavi's composure returned. The man had helped her and had not really done anything that warranted her anger.
"Well, I ought to perhaps thank him for the use of the security.." Pallavi trailed off, looking at the guard who was coolly observing Nikhil trying to get Amruta away from the party.
"You should." His reply was short. And then he nodded at the security guard and took Pallavi's hand in his before she could think twice over what or where he was taking her.
It wasn't too far away. A little further up the corridor and down a short flight of stairs and they were before the Manager's Office.
Black shirt grinned at her, opened the office door without knocking and then stepped in. Pallavi followed.
**********************************
The room stood empty. For the office of the manager of a night club, Pallavi was surprised to see how well ordered it was. A clear desk with some files on one end and a phone and a computer at the other. Wood paneled walls met her eyes. The dark mahogany tone was broken by a large aquarium at one end. The light from the aquarium cast silvery shadows that danced across the walls. At the center of the table stood a small but very intricately shaped crystal statue of Nataraja.
"So you said you would thank me."
Of course, Pallavi thought. Who else would get them past security that easily, get access to CCTV footage at the drop of a hat and bring the security to help in busting the door to a private room?
"You're the manager?" She tried to keep her voice level, stamping down the nervousness within.
"Raghav Rao." The man had his hand out towards her.
Without his help they would still have been looking for Amruta in vain, Pallavi told herself and placed her fast cooling hand in his. And he covered her in his warmth, his hold firm.
"So, Pallavi Deshmukh," he began. As her name fell from his lips, Pallavi realised she had forgotten to introduce herself. But of course he had noticed her name when she had signed at the entrance. And had remembered, her mind added needlessly.
"How would you like to thank me?"
Pallavi wanted to pull her hand away but did not want to appear flustered or rude. He held on for a moment longer, his face a mask without even the smirk to give away what he was thinking.
As soon as he let her hand go, Pallavi crossed her arms. She watched him walk towards the desk and pull out a chair.
"Please have a seat. Rajith will let me know as soon as they are escorted out." While his accent made his words sound rough, his voice had a rich softness to it. She wished he would say more even as a voice inside told her to return through the door she had stepped in and run away. Why had she come here in the first place? Why had he brought her here? The frown returned to her brows.
"I don't have much time. We should get going." She said, inching towards the door, her heart thudding in her chest.
He lifted an eyebrow. She watched his lips curl upwards. The smirk was returning. He was laughing at her, she knew. And once again nervousness was replaced by a wave of flustered anger.
Instead of edging towards the door, Pallavi strode towards him.
"You are the manager so it is your duty to help us. Had you told us your identity right at the start, it would have made things much easier for us. I don't know what game you were playing with us but we came because we were worried for our sister!"
For Pallavi who was rarely angry or outspoken in her life, this was very uncharacteristic behaviour. If only she could see herself now! And what of those she called 'family'? Oh how her Aai would have cried tears of joy to see her so-called daughter stand up for herself thus! How Vijay Deshmukh's eyes would have turned to saucers at this avatar of his 'beti'! However, the only witness to this moment was a complete stranger who would be no fair judge of Pallavi's outburst. He raised a finger. It hovered over her lips. Pallavi stuttered into silence, eyes fixed on that outstretched digit, a sort of terrified fascination taking hold in her heart.
"Sit," he said.
Pallavi stood there silent, subdued by that finger. The man, Raghav Rao, folded it and placed his hand in his pocket. He nodded towards the chair behind her. She found herself dropping into the leathery cushion as he loomed over her.
"Can I get you something to drink? Water maybe?" The tiny ridge of a frown appeared again between her brows. She shook her head to refuse.
Instead of rounding the desk to sit in the very large, very leathery and very comfortably plush looking chair, the man leaned against the desk, half sitting on it. His trousers stretched tight against his thighs and with the shirt tucked in, he should have had an appearance of casual elegance. Instead, to Pallavi, he held an aura that made her feel he would be quite at home in a street fight. Perhaps it lay in the turn of his shoulders, the way he held his arms or the free ranging movement of his hands and legs. There was a roughness about him that could not be suppressed by his soft voice or sleek clothes.
"I brought you here because you seemed to be feeling uncomfortable out there. Once Rajith has the matter sorted, you can simply join your family outside. Meanwhile--" He shrugged as if that explained everything.
Pallavi felt heat spread through her. Was this embarrassment?
She had felt his eyes on him. Even now he was watching her. Unaccustomed to such scrutiny, she tried to find something to say. How long had it been since she had entered this room? Had it only been five minutes? She felt like he had been watching her for an eternity. When was the last time someone had seen her and known she was not at ease inside?
"Thank you" she said. The words came unheeding to her lips. "You really helped us today."
His face broke into a grin.
"Is that how Marathis thank people?" His eyes glittered with mischief. Did he delight in mocking her?
"Hope Hyderabad has treated you with more generosity, Ms. Deshmukh."
Pallavi plowed on, trying to ignore him. "I am sorry for imposing on your time like this. I can understand you are a very busy man with a lot of..."
Her words trailed off as Raghav Rao bent forward, eyes staring right into hers.
"Miss Deshmukh," he said. It was softly spoken but from him her name sounded like a low growl. Her heart thudded. Was it fear she felt? She stumbled as she got up from the chair. She needed to leave.
As she stumbled, the man reached out with an ease that made her breath hitch. She moved away just in time to avoid the brush of his hand against her waist.
Pallavi stood there wide-eyed at his audacity even as he stared right back at her wearing a deceptive look of innocence. She had been a fool to think anything else about him. He was utterly shameless.
"You have come to a nightclub after all, Miss Deshmukh. Care for a dance?"
"Are you serious Mr. Rao?!" She wanted to silence his impudence but her voice came out in a strangled sort of tone that robbed her words of the anger she felt. She really was not in the habit of standing up for herself.
Before she could clear her throat and say something to undo the damage, he had taken her hands once more and pulled her close to him.
"There's no music here!" She managed to say. He raised an eyebrow at that. She mentally cursed herself. Would she agree to dance with this man had there indeed been music here?!
"I mean, I don't know how to dance!" She tried to raise her objections once more.
"Don't worry. I can teach you." His voice seemed to work its way under her skin bringing the tingle to the surface.
Pallavi felt her ears go hot. She found herself looking up at his face. She couldn't recall the last time she had a face this close to hers. If he leaned a little closer, his beard would rub against her cheeks. By now the man had guided her hands to place them on his shoulders. She felt the light press of his hands resting at her waist. Pallavi thought of the dance she and Aai had been preparing for Mansi's haldi. There was a step where Aai would hold her by the waist. Pallavi had not thought twice about that move but now even through the pallu, she was keenly aware of where his hands lay. Total scoundrel!
"Do you want music?" he asked.
**********************************
Dinner had been a quiet affair. With Amruta sleeping it off, Mansi out and Baba's favourite sparring partner Sulochona Kaku down with a headache, there had been an absence of the drama that generally was a feature of every Deshmukh family meal. Pallavi studied herself in the mirror as she brushed her hair before going to sleep. Washed out, was the thought that came to her.
After Mandaar's death, Aai and Baba had insisted that she need not wear white, the colour of widowhood. But what of the white that had seeped inside her very soul? Even when she wore the many pretty coloured sarees Aai would pick out for her, wouldn't they all look pale on her? Even though her trousseau had a make-up kit like any other bride's, Pallavi had not used even a single one of the products her sister-in-law had so lovingly bought for her. Rather she had found relief in giving away any thing from the kit that Amruta or Mansi had shown interest in. Only a few kajal pencils and lip sticks remained which none of her sisters had wanted. Pallavi had wanted to give these to Krishna but the girl had stubbornly refused to take anything.
"Why don't you use them from time to time, Didi?!" the girl had urged her. When Pallavi had laughed at the suggestion, Krishna had shown one of her rare moments of anger as she turned away from her with a frown, her thick braid swaying with the sudden movement.
Truly it was never a conscious decision but Pallavi had balked at the thought of having even a trace of make-up on her face. Only when Aai would force her, would she put on whatever shade of lipstick the determined lady would choose for her. Never one to revel in make-up, Pallavi had not missed it in her life.
But as she stared at her reflection in the mirror, the thought came to her. Next to those bright beautiful glittering girls, she must have stood out like a sore thumb. For that rowdy Mr. Raghav Rao to want to dance with her, did he find her pretty?
Pallavi chuckled at her own foolish thought. She was past these teenage fancies. She was the Deshmukh family's support now. The one who had to take the place of the son who had gone missing one fateful night. The son who was no more. The reason why she had chosen to stay with the Deshmukh family despite her brother's insistence was precisely this. She had been broken the night Mandaar disappeared. But the evening the police took Vijay and her to identify the body, Pallavi had changed. She had not looked at the body of the man, too scared to recognise the face she had thought would be a part of the rest of her life. That had fallen on Baba. But there had been no face to recognise. Mangled as the body had been by wild creatures on the highway following whatever accident that had caused Mandaar's death, only the clothes had allowed Vijay to recognise his son. While she held the broken man in her arms, Pallavi had felt the stone that had choked her for days following Mandaar's disappearance settle into her heart. Wiping away her tears, Pallavi had sat Vijay down and turned to complete the necessary paperwork. And just like that Pallavi Deshmukh had grown up.
And there was no place in this grown up Pallavi's life for things like worrying over why a man would choose to dance with her or why when he looked at her, it felt like his eyes were telling her something.
And if she thought about it now, his eyes were not telling her anything. He was just doing what he thought he should because he saw her and Nikhil in a predicament. He had acted as the manager of the place. Only perhaps being a man of few words, he had chosen to act before explaining. And just as he had brought her into the office because he had felt her to be uneasy, he had perhaps danced with her to put her at ease.
It was she, Pallavi, with her lack of experience of going to places like this, who had felt his behaviour strange and had read more into it than there was cause for. Tonight's experiences had been strange for her. That man had been too large, too different from the kind of men she normally interacted with.
The image of his hard chest filling up the shirt he wore and the feel of his shoulders as he had placed her unresisting hands on them returned to her mind. The smirk on his face that flickered like the wavering flame of a candle. Yes, he was very different from the men she normally met in her life.
Pallavi switched off the light and went to bed, determined not to think anymore of the man since she was certain Mr. Rao was not sparing a second's thought on any Pallavi Deshmukh.
And in this, she was right. The man in question sat at the moment in his office in Whistle, the nightclub he owned. Raghav Rao was waiting for a visitor who had an appointment with him. Such was his line of work, that late night appointments were quite common and they often needed a place that could act as a cover for whatever deals that were being struck.
Unlike Pallavi Deshmukh, he wasn't thinking of the dance he had shared with a very strange woman in this very room only a couple of hours ago. He was going through details of the order he had to place. He had already gone through quite a number of documents that had been pending his confirmation. In fact he was far too busy in his work to think of any saree clad siren he may or may not have run into that evening. While the evening had been fun, he was a busy man. But while he was not thinking of a Pallavi Deshmukh, neither was he thinking of Keerti's rude words from when he had run into her that very morning. He had forgotten the hurt and anger that had riddled him all day. And this realisation would have surprised him greatly if only he had the self-awareness.
When Farhad entered with his file on the diamonds they were to place an order for that night, he entered with trepidation. He had already met Raghav earlier in the day and had gotten a taste of a post-family meeting Raghav Rao. He expected more of the same now.
So when Raghav looked up from the laptop with a calm and collected look, Farhad was surprised enough to forget what he was going to say. And Raghav instead of shouting at him for his carelessness simply picked the file off his grasp and started going through the papers. And the only swear word that was heard in the room came from Farhad Nawaz.
What a strange turn of events indeed!
Fin
Pati Patni Aur Panga
Kyunki Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thi 2
