FF: DESIRE I Prologue - Part 14 - Page 12

"There's a lot you don't know about me Ishita, but that's never stopped you from jumping to judgments anyway, has it? Anyway, I don't want to discuss my life with you. Can you please just kindly explain to me, tum yahaan kar kya rahi ho? What the hell are you doing in New Zealand?"

"I came here for a paediatric dental conference" Ishita explained. "Dr Batra sent me. We just got here last night and today was a rest day so I thought I would explore a bit. I was at a resort a couple of hours away and I'd heard about this place, so..." She trailed off and clapped a hand to her mouth.

"Kya hua?"

"They must be wondering what's happened to me, or at least they will tomorrow. What if they call Dr Batra? Then amma and appa will worry so much and..."

Raman tapped his phone, handing it over again to Ishita.

"That's why they have this invention called a telephone. Try it, you can leave a message at your hotel. Number hai kya? Nahin hai toh call directory assistance. Now I'm going to go and see about your room."

He stalked off as Ishita sat seething. "Aiyoo Murugan, how infuriating he is" she mumbled, fumbling in her handbag for the hotel details. "He can't do anything without making sarcastic comments."

Ishita had called both the hotel and the car hire and explained the situation by the time Raman returned.

"Come" he said, offering her a hand to get up. " I'll show you to your room."

" I can get up myself, thank you" Ishita ignored his hand and stood up from the sofa in a huff.

"Fine, whatever" he said and turned away just as Ishita made a clutch at him. The sudden movement had made her dizzy and she latched onto the only support available, him.

"Ab kyun pakad rahi hai?" he asked angrily. "You can do it yourself after all." She remained silent and he turned. The next moment he had scooped her up into his arms and was striding down the hall with her.

"No, let me down" Ishita lashed out.

"Ishita, just shut up, or I swear. Jab chal sakti nahi toh koshish kyun kar rahi ho? Can't you just accept my help here. God help me, you are the most infuriating woman ever."

Ishita thought back to all the times he had helped her - when her car broke down, when she was being harassed by those goondas on her way back from their cafe meeting. He put on a show of gruffness, but he was actually a good man at heart, she thought to herself.

Her musings were interrupted by his striding into a large and luxuriously appointed bedroom. He had already brought her shopping bag and placed it on the dressing table stool. He put her down gently on to the Queen sized bed, where a bath towel, pyjamas and dressing gown had also been placed.

"There are toiletries in the bathroom" he hold her gruffly. "And I found these PJs and gown in the linen cupboard. I'm afraid I can't help you with any other clothing needs but I couldn't help noticing that you've got that covered" he gestured towards her shopping bag, and then strode to the door.

"I"ll come back in 30 minutes or just use the room phone to call the kitchen. I'll be in there. Don't try to come walking out by yourself or exert yourself, you heard what the doctor said, so just be sensible for once, and take things slowly."

He closed the door gently and left Ishita alone with her thoughts.

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Ishita covered her face in her hands.

"Aiyoo" she mumbled. "He saw my shopping, how embarrassing Ishita!"

The shopping bag was filled with colourful lingerie and souvenir T-shirts. The lingerie had caught her eye at a little boutique at the town she had stopped off at on her way to the Lake and Ishita had not been able to resist buying a few colourful lacy sets in rainbow colours. They were flimsy and so unlike her usual practical style, and the thought of Raman Bhalla seeing them made her blush red all over.

"Murugan" she called out as she picked up the towel and slowly stood up. " Yeh kahan fasaa diya mujhe? And why?"

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Back in the kitchen, Raman Bhalla was asking himself the same question, albeit with less reference to deities and the liberal use of profanities.

He remembered her loud mother screeching about "meat eating punjabis" in one of her fights with his mother and something Mihir had once said about having to adapt to Mihika's vegetarianism.

"She must be vegetarian too" he grumbled, shoving back the packets of chicken soup he had just found in the pantry. "Ah, this will do."

He dumped the contents of the packet of minestrone soup in a saucepan, adding water. "Yaar, mein toh is madrassan ka naukar ban gaya" he grumbled. "Rescue her from freezing, make up her bed, fetch her towels and now make her dinner. So much for being a high flying CEO."

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It was thirty minutes later.

"Ishita" Raman called out as he knocked gently on the door. There was no response.

"Ishita" he called out again, a bit louder this time. There was still no reply.

Raman's mouth went dry with panic as he imagined her collapsed, all alone, unable to make him hear.

"Damn, I should have stayed with her" He pushed open the door and rushed into the room, then pulled up short.

Ishita was lying on top of the bedclothes, dressed in the oversized pyjamas he had left for her. Damp long hair was scattered over her face and she appeared to be fast asleep, her towel clutched in one hand.

He walked up to her and sat down carefully on the bed. She appeared to be fast asleep, but not unconscious as he had feared. Her breathing was even and measured and as he sat there a little snore escaped from her. Raman felt his own heartbeat return to normal as his panic subsided.

"She looks so innocent like this" he told himself "No lectures, no moralising". Almost against his will, his hand went out to touch her long tresses and he frowned. Her hair was still damp.

"Ishita" he shook her gently. "Wake up"

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Ishita felt the gentle taps on her shoulder, almost a caress.

"Mujhe sone do na Mihika" she muttered, turning her face away.

"I'm not Mihika, you mad madrassan. Wake up"

Ishita stiffened, the determinedly male voice penetrating her sleep addled mind. She opened her eyes and stared straight into the face of Raman Bhalla.

"Tum" she cried? "I mean aap, yahan ..."

"What, don't tell me you've forgotten everything and I have to explain it all over again? You were in an accident and.."

"No, Raman, I remember all that, I just meant..."

" I came to get you for dinner, and you were sleeping, but your hair is damp so I had to wake you up"

He was sitting so close to her, but he made no attempt to move away. Ishita stared mermerised at him as he touched her hair to illustrate his point.

"Mein, mein dry kar loongi, aap jao" Ishita had no idea why she suddenly felt so shy, why she could so acutely sense him and why he sat so close to her.

"I'll help you" he had grabbed her towel and now pulled her up to him, supporting her and then twisting around so that she leant against him.

Ishita sat mutely as he began to gently towel dry her hair. She did not trust her voice at this moment. The no that she wanted to shout out was drowned by the thudding of her heart, which beat in a synchrony of yes. She could smell his cologne, feel his chest through the thin fabric of his shirt and her pyjamas, feel his breath on her back . Why was his breathing so laboured too?

He let her go as suddenly as he had grabbed her, pushing her down gently on the pillows.

"I'll bring your soup here" he strode out, even as she tried to voice a refusal.

He was back a few minutes later with a cup of soup. "Drink this" he commanded holding the cup out to her. He continued to hold it as she sipped sleepily, her voice lost in a churning maelstrom of fatigue, emotions and sleep.

He took the cup away after a while, watching as she snuggled back down into the pillows. He pulled the duvet over her, turned off the lights, and then went out to shower and arrange his own dinner. From time to time he glanced in on her, listening to her breathe, worried for her although he could not explain to himself why.

Dinner over, he fetched his computer and came back to Ishita's room. And then the akdhu, arrogant, unfeeling, woman hating Raman Kumar Bhalla settled himself into the easy chair by her bed, to keep watch over his detested madrassan neighbour, all night long.

"Do you think the universe fights for souls to be together?
Some things are too strange and strong to be coincidences."
Emery Allen

Part 3A

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