Kutumb HGT

How to Seduce Your Wife: A Guide by Pratham Mittal

Basira

Chapter One: The Setup

The turbulent, bright beat of the music pulsated in his bones and each gulp of scotch cheered his blood. While Pratham rarely drank alcohol, one of the rare family values he still upheld, special occasions called for special celebration. And the lovely Ganga Kapur's birthday was certainly a special occasion.

Ganga grinned at the entire table and laughed a little tipsily. "I'm so happy you all came!" she said loudly. "You guys really made this the best birthday ever."

Swaying drunkenly, Ganga decided to show just how grateful she was by kissing Yash, who was sitting next to her, on the cheek. Yash discreetly tried to look down her shirt. Pratham simply laughed and winked at his best friend, who blushed.

Ganga caught his eye and smiled widely. "Pratham, I'm especially glad you came! I haven't seen you in forever, man! Ever since you got married..." she added with a melodramatic sigh.

Pratham leaned back in his chair and reveled in the atmosphere of the club. Ganga was right, he rarely partied with his college friends anymore. Now all his time was spent at the office or at home with the family and Gauri. He pushed the thought of his so-called wife out of his mind; tonight was for fun.

"Sorry, Ganga," he apologized with his trademark lady-killer grin. "But the old ball-and-chain never lets me out of her sight. Who can blame her though?" asked Pratham with a laugh. "I'm the kind of guy every girl wants around."

The table burst into laughter, most of it influenced by the copious amount of beer they'd all indulged in. "Pratham, you should have brought Gauri with you!" said Ganga cheerfully. "I want to meet the lucky girl who won you."

Pratham amused himself imagining Gauri's face if she heard her husband was considered a prize. Then he laughed loudly imagining Gauri in a club like this one. In her elegant sari, looking disgusted as she saw the couples making out in the shadows...

"Trust me, Ganga, Gauri hates clubs. She wouldn't last five minutes in this place," said Pratham.

Ganga looked incredulous. "She hates clubs, but she married you? How does that work out, Pratham? You live for partying!"

"Yeah, well, me and Gauri don't have much in common."

Ganga and a few other girls seemed interested in the characterization of this relationship. They'd always assumed that there was something particular and special that bound Pratham and Gauri together, some shared interest.

"Then why did you two marry?" asked a shorthaired girl. "Was it an arranged marriage?"

Crap, he didn't want to go into questions like this. How do you explain a false marriage? "What can I say, girls? Gauri couldn't help but fall in love with me. She was obsessed with me!" Pratham lied smoothly.

"Aww, and why wouldn't she be?" cooed Ganga, slinging an arm around Pratham's shoulders. "You're just so cute."

Pratham smiled sweetly at her. "Hey, Ganga, how about a birthday dance?" he asked flirtingly. She grinned, and he led her to the dance floor.

Ganga immediately took to the music, her body pulsing in rhythm with the other dancers. Pratham danced more smoothly, but his mind was somewhere else. For a while now, as he continued to engage in parties and socializing with his friends, a new emotion had begun to take root: guilt. Ever since marriage and his career, Pratham had slowly begun to realize that he was no longer a child, but a functional member of the Mittal family. He had—and the word sickened him—"responsibilities".

Not that he didn't try his hardest to deny the fact. But now he always felt as if he should be doing something more productive instead of partying. Helping Babuji maybe, or staying longer hours at the office, anything like that.

Watch out, Pratham. Keep thinking like that and you'll turn into an adult.

He and Ganga were beginning to dance more exuberantly when all of a sudden, Hiten came onto the dance floor, holding Pratham's cell phone.

"Hey, Pratham, your cell phone's ringing. Don't leave it lying around, man."

"Thanks," said Pratham, and took the phone. The screen said it was his mother calling. Pratham answered it, expecting her telling him to come home.

He didn't expect to hear her sobbing on the other end.

Fear gripped his heart. "Ma? What's wrong? Why are you crying?"

"Pratham," Ma said weakly. "Pratham, your father was in an accident."

His heart was in free fall and a thunderstorm raged in his ears. "What?"

"Where are you Pratham? Come to the hospital, hurry... please, hurry, Pratham!" beseeched Ma between her tears.

"I'm coming, Ma!" Pratham assured her, and hung up. Ganga was looking bewilderedly at him.

"What's wrong, Pratham?" she asked curiously. "Is everything all right?"

"I—I have to go," mumbled Pratham distractedly. Where was his jacket? His car keys were in the jacket...

"What? Already? But the party—"

He ignored Ganga's confused pleas and quickly found his jacket folded over a chair. He grabbed it and, blocking out Hiten and Yash's protests, rushed out of the club.

Pratham had never prayed to the gods as much as he did that night.

+++

Why did hospitals always have to be so garishly white? Pratham marched down the halls of City Hospital with his mind swimming with fear and nauseating apprehension. He dreaded reaching his destination yet he needed to get there quickly.

He grabbed the elbow of a passing nurse. "Excuse me, I'm looking for my father. His name is Mittal, he was admitted a little while ago."

The nurse nodded and pointed down the east hallway. "He's in ICU right now, sir. Are you family?"

"Yes, I'm his son," said Pratham, fighting to stay calm. His heart threatened to explode as he asked his next question. "Please, can you tell me what his condition is?"

"I'm sorry, but I don't know that information. You'll have to ask the doctor in charge. He's probably with your father right now."

The urge to find his father was overwhelming and Pratham had begun to walk away before the nurse even finished her sentence.

He kept walking down the hallway, turning corners until he finally found his family gathered in a small waiting area.

They all looked white-faced and shaky. His mother was holding Tusshar and her shoulders shook as she cried. Seeing her made Pratham's heart tighten painfully.

Gauri caught sight of him first. She too seemed terrified and pale. When she saw him, she strode up to meet him halfway. "Pratham, finally...!" she said breathlessly.

Pratham ignored her and went straight to his mother. "Ma, I'm here," he said hesitantly.

His mother whirled around as soon as she heard his voice. "Oh, Pratham!" she cried, and stared at him with red eyes. "Thank God you're here!"

She threw her arms around him and he held her. "Tell me everything," he said to Uncle Ajay.

His uncle seemed to have aged years in a few hours. "It was a car accident," the older man said hoarsely. "Your father was coming home from work, and another driver ran through a red light and crashed into him. Luckily he didn't hit the driver's side, or..." Uncle Ajay trailed off ominously.

There was a pained silence in the air, broken when an aged doctor emerged from the ICU room.

"Doctor! Doctor, how is my husband?" asked Ma weakly. "Is he any better?"

The doctor, whose nametag read GUPTA, scanned his clipboard. "All I can say is that Mr. Mittal is a very lucky man that he came out with no severe injuries," announced Dr. Gupta.

The atmosphere in the room lightened considerably at those words. Hope welled within Pratham.

"Then he's not going to—going to—" Ma was unable to finish her sentence. Dr. Gupta smiled at her.

"Your husband is safe. He's suffered a few injuries, however. Whiplash, which he will have to see a chiropractor for. A concussion and a fractured right arm. Considering what could have happened, Mrs. Mittal, these wounds are slight indeed," finished the doctor seriously.

Ma wiped at her tears. "I know. Thank you, Dr. Gupta...I can't tell you how grateful I am."

Tusshar sighed as if a great weight had been lifted off him, and Pratham hugged his little brother tightly. "Everything's okay now," he said quietly.

"We're going to keep Mr. Mittal in the hospital for a few days, for observation," Dr. Gupta continued. "He's still unconscious, but will wake soon, hopefully."

Uncle Sanjay stood up. "Everyone else can go home. I'll stay here and wait. When brother wakes up, I'll call."

Ma started to protest, but Aunt Kavita put a hand on her shoulder. "Gayatri, you need to go home and get some rest. Tusshar and Pratham too," she added. "Besides, the grandmothers and children are still at home, worried sick."

Pratham nodded. "Chachi is right, Ma. Go home. I'll stay with the uncles."

Ma relented finally, and Tusshar offered to drive her home. Swati smiled reassuringly at Pratham as she walked by, and Natasha offered a few words of comfort.

Gauri approached him hesitantly. "Pratham, I can stay here with you if—"

"Go home, Gauri," Pratham interrupted sharply. The last thing he needed was her pity. Indignation hardened in Gauri's eyes for a few seconds before she nodded understandingly and followed the rest of the family out. The only ones left in the hospital now where him and his uncles.

They waited.

+++

A couple of hours later, Pratham was at the vending machine when Uncle Sanjay came running to find him.

"He's awake!" announced his uncle, beaming happily. Pratham sighed in relief and they both hurried to ICU.

A bit nervously, Pratham entered the room. When he saw his father, his heart sank. Babuji, who always looked so confidant and powerful, now held himself as if terribly aged. It was the first time Pratham had ever since his Babuji look weak, and it frightened him.

"Pratham, my son," said Babuji softly. "Come, come here."

"Babuji," Pratham said hoarsely, and went to hug his father. "Babuji, thank God you're okay!"

Uncle Ajay smiled at the scene. "I'm going to call home and tell them you're awake, brother," he said quietly, and left the room.

Pratham sat in the chair Uncle Ajay had unoccupied. He was a little embarrassed at how emotional he'd become. But he'd always been susceptible when it came to his family.

Babuji was deeply shaken. "I can't believe how close I came to dying," he said quietly. "I never saw that car coming."

"Don't talk like that, brother!" protested Uncle Sanjay.

"You're here with us now, and that's all that matters," said Pratham, holding his father's hand.

The door opened and Dr. Gupta entered, followed by a nurse. "It's good to see you awake, Mr. Mittal," greeted the doctor.

Babuji nodded and sat up in his bed. "Doctor, I cannot express how grateful I am to you. You've saved my life. No amount of money can—"

Dr. Gupta cut him off with a wave of his hand. "Enough, Mr. Mittal. I was only doing my job."

As the doctor consulted his clipboard, the nurse spoke up. "I'm afraid visiting hours are over. All of you will have to come visit Mr. Mittal tomorrow," she said firmly.

"But Babuji just woke up!" cried Pratham indignantly.

"It's okay, Pratham," assured Babuji. "I'll be fine. You all look so tired, you need your sleep. And no doubt your mother is waiting up for you at home," he added with a smile. "Go, my son."

Pratham stared to protest again, but his fatigue was relentless. He and his uncles made plans to bring the entire family to visit Babuji early tomorrow, and then after bidding Babuji goodnight, they finally drove home.

+++

Pratham eyed his bed longingly as he entered his bedroom. Every muscle in his body ached to rest. But he knew that the minute he drifted off, nightmares would disturb him all night. Nightmares of what could have been...

Gauri stirred beneath the covers. "Pratham...?" she asked sleepily.

"Go back to sleep," Pratham ordered. She was the last person he wanted to deal with right now.

Unsurprisingly, she didn't listen to him, but sat up in bed and stared at him intensely. "How is Babuji now?" she asked nervously.

"Fine," Pratham said shortly.

Gauri fiddled with a long strand of her hair. He'd never seen her look so genuinely apprehensive before. "When can we go see him? Tomorrow?"

Pratham fixed her with a cold stare. "What right do you have to see him?" he snapped.

Anger tightened her body immediately. "What right? I'm his daughter-in-law, Pratham!" Gauri exclaimed.

"Don't pretend all of a sudden that he's the father you never had! You know he saw right through your little act," Pratham sneered. The bed that had previously looked so inviting was now a danger zone, with Gauri lying in it.

"What?" Gauri yelled furiously. "What act? What are you talking about?"

"This act you have of being the perfect Mittal daughter-in-law! This pretense of being so superior and perfect. It disgusts me when I see you lecturing Natasha and Swati, and when you go behind Ma's back all the time pretending you're her real daughter!"

Gauri scrambled to get out of bed and stand before him defensively. The effect was ruined by her nightgown, but her eyes blazed furiously. "I do not pretend to be superior and perfect, Pratham! The only pretense I put up is the one forced on by you! And where do you get off—"

She stopped suddenly, as if she'd just realized something important. "Never mind," Gauri continued in a stilted voice. "It's late. We need to sleep."

Gauri started to get into bed again, but Pratham grabbed her arm. She stared at him, nonplussed.

"What do you mean, 'never mind'?" Pratham growled. "You started this, don't leave until it's finished."

"Look, Pratham," Gauri said with maddening patience. "You've been through a lot tonight. You really need some sleep, okay? Let's not fight now. Go to bed."

Pratham's grip on her arm intensified. "Stop it, Gauri."

"Stop what, Pratham?"

"Acting like you care."

Gauri stared at him with blank brown eyes for a few seconds before pulling her arm away. She quietly slipped beneath the covers and switched off the lamp, submerging the room in darkness. "Goodnight," she said a little frostily.

Pratham shook his head as if to clear his frustration. "Goodnight."

+++