PicOSthon: 39 OSes | Catch up with the ones u hv missed! :) - Page 34

"If I had to be stuck in Delhi all my life, I'd happily stay on only for the winters," Raman recollected his wife's words, as biting cold air blew in through the little space gaping open in the car window. Dressed smartly in a pair of faded blue jeans and a grey Nike sweatshirt thrown casually over a black tee, he adjusted his sunglasses (he sometimes wore them out of habit even when the sun wasn't shining) and looked out the window, taking in the misty fog and the near-invisibility of life outside, as if fascinated by it. 

He turned to his side and threw a glance at an athletic lady, with chestnut brown hair and hazel eyes, sitting wrapped up in thickset winter clothes, covering her nose with the end of her muffler.

As the white Honda CRV caroused through the foggy air bumping into curves and bends cautiously, Raman soaked in the quietude of an approaching dawn, desperately missing Ishita by his side. The dewy skies outside, silhouetted by a darkness that still shadowed the city, could stir the dullest hearts, and yet, he found himself cursing the early morning shoot that became the death knell for his well-laid plans for the day. It was the start of Makar Sankranti, and he had planned to spend the day with Ishita and make her feel special, despite the cold shoulder she had given him last night. He didn't want any misunderstanding to fester between them both and a third party to grab this opportunity to worsen their relationship. If he had to play the romantic lead in real life as well, he would gladly do it.

His director, Mr. Rachit Irani, dropped the bomb on him only late last night, after they all came back from the Lohri celebrations out in the lawn, tired and sweaty, flushed with happiness.

"There's a change in plans, Raman...we're not shooting Tujhpe Haara in the main city okay? Like, not in and around CP... been shot there quite a few times...so...I've decided...we'll be heading out to Hauz Khas Village for the shoot..."

"You sure you don't wanna wait for a while and shoot it at Taj Mahal?" Raman murmured into the phone, his mind instantly making the necessary calculations...

"Nai yaar...Taj is passe now...everybody wants a bite of it...and anyway, Dilli mein malls ke alawa hai hi kya? Toh maine socha...Hauz Khas Village would be perfect...you know, it's like a a lush, green Khandala right in the middle of the city...bilkul subah-subah shoot karenge toh gaane mein jaan aa jayegi...its such a beautiful song anyways...and shooting it there will lend a heightened effect to it...you get me?"

"And what about the permits?"

"Thankfully I had been scouting out locations even after I decided to shoot the song at CP...Hauz Khas was at the top o'my list...I just wasn't sure if I wanted to go ahead with it...so yeah, I already have the permits...and by the way, there's a surprise waiting for you and Lisa when you come down to the sets..." Rachit sounded excited, yet controlled.

Raman didn't dare ask him what the surprise was. The last time he had shot with Irani, his director had gleefully asked him to sleep peacefully, without setting the alarm, since they were due to shoot only at noon the next day. Of course, he was woken up at 6 in the morning, in the crudest manner possible with a bucketful of ice cold water flung at his sleeping figure by the guy playing his brother in the movie. He had yelped, sitting up startled and soaking wet, shocked out of his wits while his director had captured his perfect candid shot for the scene.

"You'll come down with Lisa, I guess...or should I send the van?"

"Nai theek hai, will come down." Raman hated taking too many liberties when none were needed. He personally tried avoiding travelling in his personal van as much as he could.

And so, after Lohri celebrations carried on till late at night and Toshi ji graciously asked his co-star to stay back at Bhalla House itself, Raman had ensured a comfortable stay for her in the guest room for the remaining few hours, and had set off with his co-star Lisa Ambrose at 5.30 this wintry morning, to the shooting spot.

She was an Anglo-Indian on a trip to the north to discover and experience her Indian roots, when it brought her to the capital city and led her straight to the director's den for the auditions. 

Her initial nervousness and performance black-out in a roomful of artistic and technically competent people led Rachit to dismiss her, yet she got selected only after Raman urged his director to let her go through a third round of auditions, barring the usual two.

"I'm telling you, she's got potential," RKB had told his director during a tea-break. Sure enough, she was marvellous at her job, and it showed how much of Hollywood was present in her nuanced acting skills. Since Liza was new to the city, and hardly knew much about Indian festivities, Raman had invited her and the other crew members to his ancestral house at South Ex, for the Lohri celebrations. None of them could make it to the grand celebrations except Lisa, who seemed to have developed an affinity for everything Indian, since the time she greeted her handsome, suave co-star Raman on the sets of The Diplomat.

Going through an excruciating ordeal of God-knows-how-many-hours, she had finally entered the brightly lit lawn in a blingy purple and bottle-green churidar suit with matching earrings, dangling and swaying dangerously, as Raman introduced her to each of the Bhallas (who were over the top excited to be meeting his filmy colleague, straight from the overseas) and the Iyers, getting to talk to his wife last.

There she was, standing in a corner to the side of the bonfire, with a tall, lean man, only her eyes shining far out in the distance. Even when he was 20 metres apart, he could see identify Mani's tall, lean frame and angular face. He was greeting her with flowers, hugging her... 

"Ab kiss baat ka phool de raha hai Madrassan ko?" he thought angrily, as he absent-mindedly took Lisa's hand and strode across to the corner where his Ishita and Mani were standing.

"Arrey aap! Aap kab aaye," she greeted him with a wide grin, happy, her eyes dancing in anticipation and curiously looking at the woman standing beside her husband, the kind of look one gives another while trying to scope out familiarity of the other . Mani turned around a little bit and greeted him profusely. "Lohri ki bahut bahut shubhkamnaayein," he greeted. Ishita's new found best friend' or rather best friend who woke up from the dead after all these years', Raman said to himself.

"Tum...yahan...tumhare yahan toh kal Makar Sankranti ki puja shuru ho rahi hai shayad."

"Haan...who toh hai...par ab Ishita ne zor diya ki Delhi mein main Lohri ke din akela rehke kya karunga...toh bacchon ko saath leke aa gaya."

"Bahut accha kiya," Raman muttered, despite himself and turning to Lisa to introduce her.

"Waise, in phoolon  ki koi khaas wajah?' Raman was trying hard to be cordial, rather than sounding suspicious.

"Bhai Ishita ko gift karne ke liye mausam kya, aur wajah kya? Kyun sahi kaha naa Ishu?" Mani joined in. 

"Haan bas, you just want to spoil me rotten, dont you?Raman.." she motioned to her husband, asking her who the lady was...

Raman picked up on the much-needed cue. "Ishita, Mani, this is Lisa Ambrose...meri co-star hai Rachit Sir ki nayi movie mein. And Lisa, this is my beautiful wife - Ishita Iyer." He deliberately glossed over Mani's introduction.

Ishita greeted Lisa with her brightest smile, instantly launching into some mundane small talk of "how do you like Delhi?" "I hope you enjoy Lohri celebrations and the like."

 "We should go out for coffee sometime, Mrs. Iyer, while I'm shooting in Delhi...your husband doesn't tell me anything about you, and he's such a quiet person!" Lisa giggled, warming up to her co-star's wife. Ishita didn't respond and merely smiled a terse, thin smile, as if skeptical of what Lisa just said.

Raman was busy poring into Ishita's face, looking for the slightest inflection in her voice, or a momentary decipherable look in her eyes, when Mani butted in. "I was just telling Ishu this evening, I'm not the kind to waste two precious hours of my life on a movie, but I watched your last movie (not less than thrice! Can't remember when I last saw a good movie worth watching ..."

"What lies? Remember the last good movie you watched was with ME? When we were both in college?" Ishita piped in, giggly and excited.

"Kaunsa? That Hrithik Roshan one?"

"YEP! Remember how starry-eyed you were, watching Koi Mil Gaya? You started pouncing on sci-fi movies right after that. Aur tumne toh chashmein bhi waise banwaye the, kyunki college ki kisi bewakoof si ladki ne yeh diya ki tum thode bahut Hrithik jaise lagte ho."

"Aur tumhen jalan hui ki ladkiyan mujhe Hrithik samajhti thi, huh?" Mani teased her. Raman's fists tightened, quite unexpectedly.

"Mani tum paagal ho kya? Maine toh unse keh diya ki who apni ankhon ka check-up karwayen!"

And so they had cracked more inside jokes' and launched into a passionate discussion about Bollywood movies, all the hits and misses, and Tamil movies and classical songs with equal fervour, while Raman and Lisa stood mute spectators, much out of the radar of the two people who didn't give a damn if they were movie stars, or particularly for Ishita, if Raman was an insecure husband wanting his wife's sole attention for ONCE. 

"Okay guys, carry on...I'll take Lisa around the bungalow," Raman had grunted, taking Lisa by the arm and playing the chivalrous host to this exquisite beauty.

Angry and fidgety, his eyes darting to the same corner where Ishita and Mani stood chatting, oblivious to a searing pain in his chest, Raman kept up a fabulous pretense of interacting with the guests, and getting Lisa to mingle with his family and in-laws. Many of the guests present rushed to him to get autographs and click selfies with him and Lisa, congratulating him over his last recent success, even as he could make out from the corner of his eye that his wife and her friend were busy enjoying their own little selfie time.

As much as he longed for Ishita to approach him on her own and take his hand and break into a dance step any minute, his heart kept sinking lower and lower as he found her absolutely blissful...without him. She had takers for the sudden spurt of energy she displayed in the Lohri dance, with Simmi, Romi, and Rinki matching steps to their bhabhi's against the dholak beating rhythmically, even as Mani preferred to stand to the side and watch her mesmerised. At times like these, Raman hated being an actor. It restrained him from walking up to a creep like Mani, hold by him the collar and ask him to keep his eyes glued to something else other than his wife.

A couple of times he had surreptitiously slided to the point where she stood, weaving through the swelling crowd near the bonfire, hoping to brush his shoulder against hers, as he himself swayed to the beats with his co-star. Thankfully, Simmi later dragged him and Lisa in the thick of the excitement, getting Raman and Ishita to face each other and do a duet.

"Raman bhai...aaj toh Bhabhi ko jalwe dikha hi do aap," Romi and Mihir had teased him.

Ishita didnt seem to care who she was dancing with, as she doubled up laughing and making those crazy moves. Raman joined in and swayed a bit, smiling despite himself, watching her in a trance-like state.

And a couple of minutes later just as Lisa came to his side elbowing him to watch her moves, Ishita left the scene. He just didnt understand what went wrong. Was it his co-star? No, she had been a perfect guest up till now. 

"Aur waise bhi Mani se fursat mile toh na kisi aur se use problem hogi." 

Even when he strolled down to the buffet and refreshment counters stacked in a line against the boundary of the lawn, picking up a glass of water for himself, he found Mani swiftly picking up a glass of juice for a near-exhausted Ishita who by now, had become the life of the party. And here Raman was, standing like a total loser, watching his wife enjoy her time like he didnt exist.

"You never told me your wife was such a sport!" Lisa tried to scream into Raman's ears, over the cadenced beats of the dholak and the occasional DJ music playing in the background. He felt pride surging through him. He had not felt this overwhelmed, even when he won his first National Award, not even when they hailed him the God of the 100-crore clubs in the industry.

Since his debut film less than five years ago Raman Kumar Bhalla aka Raman Kumar aka RKB (he surely preferred the last) had climbed the career graph in an uncharacteristically predictable manner. With each subsequent movie, he had become predictably bigger as an actor, and bolder in the choice of his movies. In a short span, he'd already won two National Awards and was currently the most bankable actor in the industry. There wasn't a single actress he had worked with who hadn't fallen for his dimpled grin, on the sultry look he had mastered in his romantic scenes...Of course, he was a self-made man dearly devoted to the people in his life and couldn't think beyond Ishita Iyer, his quirky, awkward Madrassan who never wore her heart on her sleeve, unlike him, impulsive and an absolute failure at keeping feelings under a tight lid.

Ishita Iyer looked like a Goddess last night. So free. So untouched. So powerful.   Resplendent in a lime green Patiala suit, with braided hair and jhumkas sent into a tizzy as she swayed her body against the music, and chatted everyone up at the party, playing the perfect host. He spent the night staring at her whenever Lisa wasn't demanding all of his attention, and yet, not once had she looked back at him, reciprocating the intensity he felt inside. At that moment, he painfully realized how stars' got their heart broken in such myriad ways, even when the whole world went crazy hollering their names and tattooing the same on their bodies.

"If looks could kill, Mani would be dead a hundred times over now," Raman muttered to himself, as the car pulled to a stop outside the main entrance of Hauz Khas Village.

My heart beats for you 

lil sort but fabulous and very well written os👏