Part 3
The air in the taxi felt hot and arid, but as Geet stared out of the open window at the rolling hills, at farms and green fields, she could almost feel the air cooling her forearms. It was an illusion. But she was big on illusions, so she let it slide and enjoy the experience.
The whole process of coming home would also be an illusion. There would be loud exclamations, bear hugs, family gatherings where no one could get a word in - not that it would stop anyone from trying ' but underneath there would be tensions and wariness. There always was.
Even the siblings and cousins who did not know her secret somehow picked up on the atmosphere and joined in, letting her keep them at arm's length.
But when anyone tried to close in, she had learned how to distance herself up and keep herself together, but then Geet always excelled at everything she did, and this was no exception.
She hadn't called ahead to let the family know what time she was arriving. She knew taiji would make a fuss but a taxi and her own company were preferable at present. She needed time to collect herself before she faced them all again.
It had been four years since she had been home at Hoshiarpur. And when she did come these days, it was always in winters. The summers were too glorious here, too full of memories she couldn't afford to revisit. But then her older sister had decided to get married and that too in the month of April for her wedding celebrations and Geet was not left with much choice. It seems she could no longer outrun the tug of family and the big fat Punjabi wedding even though she had tried very, very hard.
She turned away from the scenery, the green fields, the golden harvest and the most painful the blue of the sky. She opened her hand bag and brought out a magazine. It was the latest issue from STARS AND CELEBRETIES magazine's main rival. Her lips curved in a smile as she noted her editorial team had done a much better job of covering the latest trends in the women's fashion. But that was what she paid them for. She expected nothing else.
The star on the cover page caught her attention. She was wearing Maaneet-India topmost fashion brand. The brand had grown from strength to strength in few years time, creating exclusive design after design. Stars, celebrities, the rich and powerful vying to own the exclusive outfit.
With a man at the helm, you'd expect menswear to outshine the women's collection but it wasn't the case. Maan Khurana understood women's bodies so well that he created the most exquisite clothes for them. Elegant, sensuous, stylish but more important keeping traditional designs in mind.
Although she had resisted buying one of his creations for years, she'd given in last summer and what she brought was now in her bag. She had worn it only once, and in it she'd felt sexy and feminine. She frowned at the thought and looked again at the magazine. She was the editor-in-chief of India's top entertainment magazine. Though she was at the top of her game, it was a cut throat industry and working and living and finding a niche in that environment for woman was difficult.
Her mobile phone rang and glad of distraction she reached into her hand bag to retrieve it. The name on the caller ID gave her a rush of adrenaline. Surely she should be used to seeing that name by now?
As the taxi covered the distance from Delhi airport to Hoshiarpur she got lost in the memories of the past. Taiji scrutinizing her profile as she had come down the stairs for the breakfast. Taiji scolding her for her mistake. Taiji keeping a strict watch on her.
She had arrived in Manali one wet evening, a shivering fifteen year old, feeling lost and alone. The family had been told she had gone away to her Maasi's place, which was true. Her Maasi lived in Manali with her husband and two sons.
She just hoped the secret they had tried to hide would not come out in open. No one not even Rajji and Naintara knew about the secret. She was going to have to be very careful. Naintara's wedding would be the first time she and all her sisters and cousins would be together and she couldn't spoil her happiness by being poignant.
The taxi swung round a bend in the road and Geet held her breath. There was Hoshiarpur in the distance, a small but beautiful, picturesque village; green fields surrounding the village, a stream ran to the side of the village with lots of trees on the banks of the river. It was scenic village which had lots of possibilities of economic growth but it had once been Geet's home. Her only real home. A place filled with memories.
Before they reached the village centre, the taxi branched off to the left, heading up to a Gurudwara. She had wanted to first visit the Gurudwara and take babaji's blessings.
It was a ritual she followed religiously when ever she came to Hoshiarpur.
Then the taxi veered back towards the village centre where the tallest building in the area stood proud, as if commanding other buildings to bow down to her and that was her parents Haveli.
Geet collected the magazines from the backseat, putting it in her bag making sure everything she had taken out was in her handbag and pulled herself up straight as the car eased through gates more suited to maximum-security prison than a family-home.
Maan opened the tall windows of the hall and stepped out in the garden. It all looked perfect. He liked simple lines, clean shapes. It always looked perfect. That pleased him. Off course, he knew that perfection came at a cost.
Precap: "You are late" a shout was heard from inside.
Edited by crystal-rose - 13 years ago
Cricket
Indian Mythology
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