I hope I've done it justice. Thank you all for your support, for your unfailing encouragement, and for being such great readers--I have read and enjoyed your responses, every last one, and I am humbled by them! I hope this final update answers all your questions. So here it is--the finale for "The Love Story On Page 3."Enjoy!
EPILOGUE:
************************************************************************
About one month later. February 13, 2013
The
dimly lit hotel room in a quiet suburb of Delhi did not look like the ideal
setting for a business meeting, even though that, in essence, was what this
was. A business meeting. The candles
glimmered in small niches along the wall, the bed looked soft, sensually
inviting, the scent of white lilies wafted in the cool air. The man in this
room had been waiting impatiently, and his source was already an hour late. His
prematurely silver streaked dark hair was disheveled, and provided a striking
contrast to the young, harsh features of his face. His body coiled and
uncoiled, muscles moving sleekly under a perfectly cut Armani suit. He looked
tense, and he had every reason to be--he had postponed an interview with the
Education Minister for this meeting, and she was running late.
Wearing a sky blue translucent sari, her slender, elegant body decked in
diamonds and encased in fine muslin, Anjali Raizada walked in, well aware of
being late to her meeting in this room and clearly not giving a damn. Kunal Roy
watched the sister of one of the most powerful men in Delhi enter, and sit across
from him. Her face had become a bit of an obsession with Kunal of late, and
today she looked just as composed as she had looked over the past week, during
which the two of them had met frequently, always in this room, to plan the Page
3 exposes, one after the other.
Including the time it had taken to prepare for a story so huge, Kunal had known
and worked closely with Anjali, under conditions of total secrecy, under hysterical media
spotlight and pressure, for more than a month----and still she was an enigma. Other
than the relationship of source and reporter, Kunal had nothing in common with
this beautiful woman. He was a workaholic who had clawed his way up the ladder
to run one of India's premiere papers, while she was a pampered rich aristocrat
who had never had to work a day in her life. He came from a cheerful, comfortable
middle class family, teeming with relatives and cousins. The Roy parivaar were
a rowdy, loving, Bengali joint family, all settled in a sprawling compound in
Kolkata, who Kunal visited whenever he could get away from Delhi. Anjali, aside
from her ferocious devotion to her only brother, seemed to really not give a
damn about anyone else.
But in one respect, Kunal had come to realize they were identical--he was a
ruthless opportunist, who's brilliant mind made mincemeat of his opposition,
who's bravery and sheer guts enabled him to thrive in a cutthroat world. And
Anjali Raizada? She, who was in fact the mysterious source who had orchestrated
this whole thing, the information, the leakings to the Delhi Sun? She who had
provided the details about Khushi and Arnav, decided on using the totally
clueless Lisa Kampadia as bait, who had decided on the content of each
explosive Page 3 article?
This woman had, for one month made the entire media of India dance to her tune.
She had evaded being caught out by Arnav himself, and had shaped the story of
her brother's romance on her own terms. She had kept a watch on Khushi for five
months, and made sure her brother and bhabi would be immortalized, together,
when the time came. Without once revealing who she was, or what she was doing. And
no one had known -- other than Kunal. Kunal Roy didn't know much about Anjali
Raizada, but he knew that she was the most devious, intelligent woman he had encountered
in his fifteen years of journalism.
Today was to be their last briefing. The hysterical
adulation and scrutiny of "The Love Story of the Century," as her
brother and sister in law's romance was now being dubbed in all the papers and
media outlets, was finally dying out. It had been a month since the fabled
wedding had splashed its colors all over the front pages of news papers and
magazines, had been telecast on TV channels and streamed on live internet feeds.
Page 3, and the Delhi Sun, had made history. Kunal Roy was now regarded as
a living legend in journalism. He had pulled off the new generations' most
elusive coup--- combining voracious demand for scandal with investigative
reporting, all of it hyped up with brilliant promotional work. He had
guaranteed, with the Arnav-Khushi juggernaut of a story, that the news cycle
belonged to him, and him alone. The Page 3 coverage, and the hysteria
surrounding this story ensured the Dehli Sun would remain in the top position
in India, and abroad, for years to come.
All because of one idea, one small approach made to him directly, by this
serene beautiful woman in a coffee shop in Delhi, one month ago. He had not
known her, but had gone along because it was such a maverick, crazy, brilliant
plan. A plan to help him win the ratings war, and help her win a war of her
own. All this, done alone, the whole drama pulled off by just --the two of
them. Reporter. Source. Among other
things.
*********************************************************************
"How are they?" Kunal asked Anjali as she handed him her final notes, and
returned the private, untraceable cell phone that had been their primary means
of communication . Aside from their meetings in this hotel room to discuss
strategy, plan the articles, the leaks. Among
other things.
"Chote and Khushi? Happy! So happy, Mr
Roy, they make you almost afraid to not believe in love, they glow with such
joy. They returned from their honeymoon trip just a week ago, and Khushi won't
be travelling anywhere for some time.
I wish you would tell me who wrote the Page 3 gossip pages, Mr. Roy. I'd have
liked to thank your mysterious gossip writer myself-I found the way she used my
information to come up with her updates really effective. And funny, too. I
liked her style. Too bad you won't reveal her to me. From now on I'm going to
be paranoid at all the society events, I know it!!
Kher,
choriye (well, forget it). Tell her your secret source said thank you, and her final piece
can be about Chote and Khushi being a family.
You can use this last information in your final Page 3 news article
about them-they are going to be parents soon! Everyone is healthy, and Chote
could not be happier. Or more proud of her.
And tomorrow, they will celebrate their real wedding anniversary---14
th
February. I timed all this for their first wedding anniversary, you know. So
they would start their next year together. I guess this is my secret, private
gift to them, a gift they will never ever know about--I wanted them to always
be happy. And now, they will be. They needed to get married properly, but more
importantly, publicly.
Khushi faced such pain, so much rejection, so many taunts- in fact, much of
their relationship was done in secret, like she was someone to be ashamed off,
like she was not worthy of Chote. The way their marriage happened was just the
final insult.
We all needed to pay for the way we treated of our bride-- Khushi
deserved to become Chote's wife with everyone's blessings, to have the wedding
of her dreams, to have Chote's society people accept her, adore her like he
does. Without it--- Chote, bless him, he would never have realized what was
missing in their marriage, and Khushi would have been unhappy for years,
without knowing why.
Now, our families know, the world knows, and, most importantly, Khushi knows how
important she is to my brother. We made sure of that, in a spectacular way, Mr.
Roy. I thank you for that."
************************************************************************
This was the most Anjali had spoken about her family and Kunal,
shrugging off his jacket and loosening his tie, would not have been human had he not prodded--
just a little. Once a reporter, always a
reporter. Of course, none of what she might reveal about herself, about her
own motives would ever leave this room. The story, their purpose for the story,
was done. It was over.
So, as he kissed her neck, sucking lightly on the tender skin there, it felt
safe to ask his question.
"Anjali, why did you do it? Admitted, it was mahaan (noble) of you to bring your
brother and Khushi together--but the scandal of being exposed as the source
would have torn your family apart!! From what I know of your brother, he would
never have forgiven you, he is an intensely private man. What could your reason,
you motives possibly be? Why would a woman like you take such a risk?" Anjali
turned in Kunal's arms, looking into his eyes, deciding whether to trust him
with this, the real secret she had never shared with anyone. Somehow, she
wanted to be truthful, to be starkly honest, with him.
"Mr Roy." Anjali moved to the bed. Their time together had already been cut
short by the lateness of her arrival. She slowly unwound her sari, draping it
over a chair, shrugging off her choli, her petticoat. Gracefully, she sat naked
in the middle of the bed, as she looked up at the powerful, enigmatic man who
had helped her brother, and helped her, in vastly different ways. Kunal Roy was
hardly anyone's knight in shining armor-the ruthless, pragmatic man that he
was, he would always see to his own needs first. But, oddly, in the end, he had
helped both brother and sister do the same thing-to find themselves again.
To love themselves, to feel loved, to forgive their own pasts, to
correct past mistakes.
She answered him.
*******************************************************************
"Mr. Roy, I told you when we started this Page 3
thing, that you cannot ask me this question. But this will be the last time we meet, so
here is my answer. I was the only person who could do this. The risk, the
planning, the manipulation of the news so Khushi came back, so Chote realized
what he needed to do to keep her'this was not a sacrifice. It was a duty, an
obligation. Not a choice, not me being mahaan.
I am not
mahaan, or good, or pure,
Mr. Roy. Chote thinks so, and I let him think it, He needs to believe it. He is
my little brother, he does not fully see me as a woman. But I am only human.
I did it, because I knew about my husband's nature. From the beginning, before
Shyam married me, I knew he was inherently--wrong , twisted. And I let him loose
on my family. Long before he met Khushi, long before he tormented my brother,
or became a criminal. I am a lawyer too, even though I never practiced law,
even though I got married to Shyam right after law-school. I know about crime, and criminals, and I knew
what he was like-we were classmates, after all.
And I married him anyways, because I liked the lies and stories he made up to
make me feel special.I fell in love, and I didn't care-- I lied to Chote so he wouldn't do a background check on
Shyam. I lied to Nani even when I knew Shyam was with other women--and there
were others-- or cheating his clients-and he did cheat. Steal.
Believe me, we women---we always
know
our husbands. If he is an honorable man, a good man, like Chote--- we will know it in our hearts, no
matter how much he hides it. If he is rotten to the core, like Shyam---we will know
that too. Instinct.
I saw through all the lies, but I liked the ones he told me. I liked how those
lies made me feel. So for three years, I let my selfishness rule my life. I
lived for the fantasy of pretending to be a queen with Shyam as my adoring
servant-I played that game, that role. The whole Khushi saga-that one, I admit,
I never saw coming. But when it happened--I knew she was a victim, how could she not be, given Shyam's
true nature? But how could I tell everyone
that, without revealing that I knew Shyam was the villain? That I had always
known, that I had let him come into our lives, poison us?
I stayed silent. For me. For Naina, who had not even been born. And that broke me, not because of just the loss of my husband.
I broke down because I hurt my brother. I kept the truth from him until the
Guptas themselves revealed it. And for what? A game. A mistake I made three years ago, with my marriage.
When
Shyam was finally gone, after doing the worst thing he could--destroying my
family--it was time to return, sooth samed,
(with interest) the steep price Chote and Khushi paid for my stupid fantasy.
And as for Chote finding out...He may
by the great Arnav Singh Raizada, Mr Roy. But I? --I am Anjali Singh Raizada. He
is still my younger brother.
You know the saying, don't you?- The female
of the species is more dangerous than the male' and I am the female
Raizada, Mr. Roy.
People always seem to forget that, somehow.
Mr. Roy--we have one hour and ten minutes, and I am a very busy woman.
The drive back will take a longer time than usual, because off evening traffic,
and I'll have to pick Naina up from daycare as well. And who knows where your
Ms Gossip Writer for
Page 3 is hiding, what if she spots me leaving this
hotel room!!
Now Mr. Roy---Tell me---Are you getting on this bed with me this evening, or
are you not?"
*********************************************************************
Kunal Roy made love to Anjali Raizada, as he had frequently done for over month
now, their bodies entwining, straining and parting, hushed sounds of low moans
and soft kisses filling the room. There was passion, chemistry, but there was
urgency as well--one one side, at least. Afterwards, to his silent amusement, she
thanked him politely for an enjoyable evening, dressed, and left. As cool, as
remote as ever.
Kunal, tangled in sheets, stretched out on his hotel bed, lit a cigarette, and
thought about the strangeness of his own love story. A story that had not fully
started, but which would soon begin.
A glowing face in a coffee shop, one month ago, one look into soft brown eyes,
the touch of a satin skinned woman's hands on his shuddering body. No, the real
story had only been glimpsed so far. This has been business. Anjali had just
said she would never see him again, and she thought, quite honestly, that she meant
that. This, Kunal knew. But Kunal also knew, that tomorrow was Valentine's Day.
And, even though she still didn't realize it herself, he knew in his gut, knew
by that instinct that had made him such a brilliant reporter, that Anjali Raizada would be in that coffee shop, in Delhi,
waiting for him to come and find her.
And this time, Kunal Roy and Anjali Raizada would not meet to talk about
business.
Kunal smiled softly, a tender smile, a smile filled with love, with humor, an
expression that no one who knew this driven, ruthless man would have thought he
was capable of.
Since the moment in Arnav's room on the evening of the wedding, when he had
fixed Arnav's paagri--an instinctive action
that was the job of the groom's brother---or
brother in law---Kunal had realized with total shock that he had already fallen irrevocably in love with
Anjali. He was already treating her family, her siblings, like they were his
own. It was a revelation, to say the least, to realize that he was besotted by this aristocratic, pampered woman-- someone he would never have imagined as his bride. Someone who's powerful, vicious brother hated his guts, who would fight any relationship that made them anything more than enemies.
Kunal had then and there vowed to himself that he would not let this woman go, no
matter what the obstacle, no matter who stood in the way. Anjali was flawed,
she was wounded and scarred--she was a manipulative, dangerous, brilliant woman.
But she was his. Until Arnav's wedding, Kunal had been unsure of what he was
feeling, but when Arnav had asked him that evening if they were related- Kunal
knew, instantly, that they soon would be.
So, tomorrow, on 14th February, 2013, if Kunal Roy had anything to
do with it, tomorrow was going to be the start of another love story. And no
one was in a better position than he was to make sure that the wooing of
another Raizada, the new love story of Anjali Raizada and Kunal Roy did not appear on Page 3 of the
Delhi Sun.
After all, he was the anonymous person who wrote Page 3, wasn't he? There had
never been any gossip writer, any mysterious society woman who wrote those
articles-- Kunal had been writing all the updates, using Anjali's information. He
had skillfully kept her from guessing his identity all along, even while they
worked to give her brother and bhabi their immortal love story.
Some day, when they were finally together, he'd tell Anjali all about his
secret-the final piece of the puzzle. Maybe...who
knew? Maybe he'd even tell Arnav and Khushi.
But first...that coffee date!
____________________finis_________________________
Thank you for reading "Love Story On Page 3"!! I hope you liked it. Now, PR/Advertising of my own! If you enjoyed this work, and if you'd like to check out some more of my writing, do take a look at the links below.
I have a Fan Fiction, "Perfection" which is ongoing (Links for Thread 1 and 2) as well as a small OS-- "Homecoming".Read on!
Perfection (Thread 1): https://www.indiaforums.com/forum/topic/2784901
Perfection (Thread 2):https://www.indiaforums.com/forum/topic/2904041
Homecoming : https://www.indiaforums.com/forum/topic/2933278
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