He heard her say 'no' and wanted to ignore her, but he had promised. He let go of her carefully, making sure she was steady on her feet before moving away.
"Di trusts you. She asked if I wanted to call Rama-Viju to stay here tonight, and I told her it wasn't necessary. Anyway, you should go. It's getting late."
He was puzzled by her words, her tone. A few days back she'd slapped him for acting fresh. Now she seemed to have bypassed any involvement in this tiny heated moment she'd shut down and was saying that she didn't want him to violate her sister's trust. But what about you, Suhani, what do you want? What do you feel?
She was not looking at him. She sat down on the bed staring at her sandals with extreme interest. He changed the topic. "I think we should put something on that," indicating her foot, "and bandage it for support. Where's the first-aid kit?"
"I dunno," she mumbled, disinterested.
"You don't know? Do you even have one?"
"I don't know, okay?" She was cranky now, great! "This isn't my house."
"Tisssh!" He made a noise that was a combination of disgust and exasperation. "I have one in my car. I'll get it."
"I'm surprised you don't have one in your pocket," she said.
He threw her a look and marched off. This time he knocked when he returned, and when there was no answer, opened the door and peeked in. She wasn't in the room. Just then she hobbled out of the bathroom, trying to walk normally when she saw him.
"Ab rehne bhi do, Suhani. No point pretending it's not hurting. Sit down, let me attend to that."
She was not wearing one of her long nighties, but a calf-length one in thin cotton that made her look very fetching, very young. These days she dressed differently, she rarely wore the saris and suits he'd got used to seeing her in, unless she was going out or people were coming over, but dressed most often in the jeans and kurtis she'd worn before their marriage. She sat down on the bed, carefully adjusting her nightie, and extended her foot.
He bent over and probed the ankle, feeling the swelling, then sprayed on the pain reliever. Then, with a flourish he pulled out the elasto-bandage. "Wasn't sure I had this, but I did!" He sounded so self-satisfied, she felt both amused and irritated.
"No wonder you hate Sandip," she said. "You're a frustrated doctor at heart."
He was startled. "What makes you think I hate Sandip?"
"I saw you talking to him last Saturday. You didn't seem very friendly."
Better just shut up, he thought. He finished wrapping the bandage around her ankle and foot, secured it, and said, "I hope that feels better."
There was another stop& stare moment, then she looked at him as he admired his handiwork, and felt a tug at her heart. He could be so cute; she wanted to hug him, tousle his hair, if it weren't that she may be giving him the wrong signals. He was attractive, mad, moody, annoying, sweet, but that didn't mean she could go where he seemed to want. They were just friends.
He looked up and saw on her face the look he had seen so many times before. He stared at her, and their gazes held for a few seconds, then she smiled and said, "Thank you, Sadu. You better go to sleep now, it's way past your bedtime."
He felt a bit deflated. He had felt something there, but her words put him back in a slot that ignored his desires. He got up, bent and kissed her forehead. She could ignore his advances, but he was going to remind her every chance he got. He smiled down at her. "Goodnight. Call me if you need me."
He tossed and turned in bed, mindful that this was not only a kind of divine justice, but the very definition of irony. She had been crazy about him, fallen over herself to please him and his family, put up with a lot of hurt inflicted by dadi, his sisters-in-law, and her so-called best friend. And him. She had endured his meanness, his indifference, and later his ambivalence and his persistent denial of any feelings for her, his emphasis on their being friends, while now it was almost exactly the reversal of that, except that, as a guy, he could initiate instances that his Suhani never could. He wondered what would have happened if Suhani had come on to him in those days. He'd had a hard time keeping himself in check with her those last few months, so what if . . . He fell asleep wondering.
Suhani couldn't sleep for a long time, either. Her mind re-enacted the moments he'd held her, staring at her, touching her, and she acknowledged to herself what she would never admit to anyone, that he excited her, that once she'd got over the shock of his sudden and strangely intimate kisses that first time, she wanted him to touch her, hold her, and heaven knew what else. But where could that go? She wasn't getting involved with someone from a different milieu, who'd be gone tomorrow. But. He made her feel good. He made her want to be 'bad', but so did Gautam, to some extent. Maybe she was just bored and these faux romances livened up her days. NOT that there was any romance happening with either--if anything, Sandip was more romantic with her, and she didn't feel the slightest bit attracted to him.
Gautam would be back from Delhi tomorrow. She was looking forward to seeing him again.
************
The alarm woke him out of his sleep the next morning, and he hit Snooze a couple of times before forcing himself to get up and shower and get ready for work. Suhani overslept, so Yuvraj didn't see her before he left. As he drove to his office, the thought came to him that this was a limited time frame he was working with. Bhavna couldn't stay here forever. She would have to return to her home in town before her due date, and Suhani would probably return to her parents. He would be able to see her only occasionally then, and whatever bond he could build by then was all he would have. He couldn't see much chance of courting her in front of her parents. And when? Weekends? Now that he had found her, he didn't fancy being stuck away at Birla House alone, not seeing her all week.
Suhani got up very late, feeling quite fresh and rested. She called Bhavna, who was at the doctor's and assured her she'd be back for lunch. Her foot was better, not so painful, and she smiled thinking of 'Dr' Yuvraj. She thought of that strange cocktail of feelings she experienced with him, about him, and decided she needed to get busy, get back to work, so she put on her laptop, and started working on a sample presentation. Truth to tell, she had been bored here for a while, especially before Yuvraj arrived to stay. Much as she loved Bhavna Di, there was a sameness to the days, nothing much to do, and while it had been restful when she was recovering, it had lately gotten too stifling. Whenever she brought up the subject of going back, Di said that she wanted to stay here and couldn't be alone, so what could she do?
Her thoughts went to Soumya. She really didn't know what had happened, why Soumya had disappeared from her life. Bhavna had told her that she had married that Krishna without telling her, Suhani, and she had left Allahabad later. Suhani felt sad when she thought of this; how could Soumya just abandon her? How could she fall in love, get married, leave, without telling her best friend? But it was pointless to think about this. She had tried to mail her, checked for updates on FriendsBook, but Soumya was silent, so what could she do but let it go?
The good thing was that she was now in touch with other friends, those from her neighborhood, from college, and she felt happy about it. Maybe she had been too bound up with Soumya, neglecting everyone else, including her sister. And there were the friends she had made after the accident, Gautam among them. She felt pleased thinking of Gautam returning to Allahabad soon. She'd missed him.
Gautam had been in recovery from a head injury too, at the time she was in hospital. He was a livewire, always cheering her up, distracting her from the pain, encouraging her when she got low. She had often been very depressed, about her memory loss, her weak right hand (it had taken months for her to recover almost-full strength in that hand), various aches and pains, the headaches that plagued her, the lack of sleep. . . He had been discharged before her, but kept in touch, visiting first at the hospital, then here, taking her out, flirting with her. He liked her, she knew, but also felt that he wasn't the type to get serious. Anyway, she would be glad to see him again. Maybe it was time for one of those parties Di kept arranging.
Indian Idol 16
