What's with the name change? You must think of me as an indecisive writer on the edge of a nervous breakdown. I like to believe only the indecisive part is true ;)
I changed it because as the story progressed, I realized it was not a romance. It is a game of power under currents of attraction. But, mostly power. Don't know if Roger & Bittuji are playing Rishbala as chess pawns or if it is the other way around. But, there is something deeper than meets the eye.
How do I feel about what I said to him?
Not very good, I am not proud of myself for judging. The poor guy showed me the mirror. Maybe I was a snob and a bigot. I could be any of those things without knowing and I was truly sorry for being inconsiderate that night in the factory. Now, I shall speak in my defense because that is what politicians do: damage and then control.
You see, India is a land of living paradoxes. My life is one but, people like Rishabh make me realize how trivial my problems are. He had never known what a family was. To him, Bittuji and Radhaji were as close to perfection as mankind could get. I had hoped he never saw their flipside because when he did, the world would come crashing down. I hoped and prayed his illusion was maintained.
Just one of those nights in the secret Suite of Four Seasons, Mumbai, Rishabh came knocking on my door.
"Shit, you won't believe what happened".
I saw the nervousness in his actions and let him in without the usual fuss.
"Speak to me".
He made himself comfortable taking off his necktie, shoes and socks, throwing them in every tidy corner of the room.
"So I talked to Radhaji about me dating a rival Party girl and Bittuji walked in. I was sweating bullets and they stared me down like ashamed parents of a kid caught in the rave raid. I wanted to tell them about us. God, just marry me".
He took that dreaded ring out yet another time. My heart broke into small pieces seeing him face rejection at my hands. I couldn't marry him. I couldn't possibly marry a man who shared none of my political beliefs yet, I couldn't stop loving him either.
"Rishabh", I held him by the shoulders and he knew what was coming.
"I love you. I do but, we can't run away from the bigger issue. This is not about who changes the last name after marriage. This is about who changes the Party. I cannot let go because the people I want to help are finally getting help. I cannot leave them, I just cannot".
"I understand", I told her. But, I didn't understand. Why couldn't we just tell the world and let things fall into place? It was only two people loving each other. Love is not a crime. We could have a compartmentalized life. We don't have to take marriage to work or work back to home. We could be normal. If only she….. and oh my God, there she went again. The girl knew how to press my buttons.
The 70's fermented raspberry scent, a pinot noir, the black and white era record player, her duppatta no longer covering her wavy hairs. She was gorgeous, from head to toe. Her fingers massaged my back, sending me in and out of a trance.
"Remember that college night when we made love for the first time? Your face was priceless".
Somehow, she was always the bold one, the corky one, the in-your-face-I-don't-care one. I wanted to be that but, she was just that good.
"Yeah, I remember. Playing Lata Mangeshkar vinyls? I hardly thought you were that kind of girl".
"You still don't know what I am made of".
The clip that hugged her corset was out. She was dressing down.
"Girl, you fine. I could spend the rest of my life just looking at you".
"Okay then. I will take a seat on the corner sofa and you can look till you fall asleep".
She shrugged me off and watched me melt with one eye open.
"You would think I learned my lesson by now", I jumped on the couch making it tilt to the side. My hands ran down her back, feeling her spine. This would go much faster if she did not wear two tons of fabric every hour of the day. I sincerely hope she has seen herself naked. I doubt that fact sometimes.
"Why did you have to interrupt the speaker like that?"
Her eyes were spitting fire. I don't know why she always gets angry about the day's events just nearing climax. Can't you wait two more minutes to spark an argument, woman? Maybe because she knows I can't call her out.
"Bittuji asked me to cut his bhaashan short. The man was going on about nothing".
My tongue massaged the walls of her cheek.
"To hell with your Bittuji. He changes colours like the chameleon circuit. This is precisely the reason I refuse to be seen with you in public. Your image will make people think of me as a power abuser".
I had to make a smart remark or else my love life was headed to a fate like that of King Sisyphus.
"The only person abusing her power right now is you".
I switched places to get a better view of her serine expression. I wish we were always this understanding.
Pati Patni Aur Panga
Kyunki Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thi 2
