The Madras Affair
Date: 2015-09-19T18:30:00+00:00
Rights: Copyright © 2015 by Kurious Kind Media Private Limited

“A heartwarming tale of a woman who rises from the ashes of a torturous marriage to recreate her life and reclaim her self-respect. A heroine to cheer for, a hero to die for, and a story that races along to a delicious conclusion...Kudos to Sundari Venkatraman for her success in blending social relevance with a riveting tale of love and hope.”

—Usha Narayanan

SUNDARI VENKATRAMAN

Published in 2015 by Kurious Kind Media Private Limited
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© Copyright Sundari Venkatraman

Sundari Venkatraman asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this book.

This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, or actual events or locations, is purely coincidence.

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted (including but not limited to photocopying, scanning, cyclostating) or stored (including but not limited to computers, external memory devices, e-readers, websites etc) in any kind of retrieval system without the prior written permission of the publisher.

ISBN: 978-81-929975-7-5

Typeset in Palatino Linotype By Solution Graphics

Printed in Delhi

India has traditionally been the land of storytellers and a lot of us have an inherent skill of creating good plots, good stories and good narrations. With a little encouragement and support, many more authors will be widely read and attain a place in the sun.

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Take a break, read something nice, write something beautiful. Visit us at www.readomania.com and enjoy a whole new world of literature.

This one is for Pooja & Mukesh Gursingh

About the Author

Growing up on a heavy dose of fairy tales and comic books, Sundari fell in love with the 'lived happily ever after' syndrome. It was always about good triumphing over evil and a happy end.

Soon, into her teens, Sundari graduated to Mills & Boon romances. And that got her thinking—how about such breezy romances in Indian settings? Her imagination took flight and she always lived in a rosy cocoon of romance over the years.

Then came the writing—a true bolt out of the blue! While her spoken English had always been excellent—thanks to her Grandpa—she couldn't write to save her life.

All this changed suddenly one fine day in the year 2000. Sundari had just quit her job as a school admin and didn't know what to do with her life. She was saturated with simply reading books. That's when she returned home one evening after her walk, took some sheets of paper and began writing. It was like watching a movie that was running in her head—all those years of visualising a perfect Indian romance had to be put into words. The dormant romantic storyteller in her finally found its calling and The Malhotra Bride was born.

In the meanwhile, she landed a job as copy editor with Mumbai Mirror. After working there for two years, she moved to the Network 18 Group and worked with two of their websites over the next six years, as content editor.

Despite her work schedule, she continued to write novels and short stories and had them published in her blogs. She also blogs voraciously, writing on many different topics—travel, book reviews, film reviews, restaurant reviews, spirituality, alternative health and more.

Her first book Double Jeopardy—a romance novella was very well received by readers of romance. In 2014, Sundari published The Malhotra Bride (2nd Edition); Meghna; The Runaway Bridegroom; Flaming Sun Collection 1: Happily Ever Afters From India (Box Set) and Matches Made In Heaven (a collection of romantic short stories).

Sundari Venkatraman can be contacted through her website www.sundarivenkatraman.com and through www.facebook.com/AuthorSundariVenkatraman

Acknowledgements

To my husband Venkat

Thank you for putting up with my strange timings, my emotional ups and downs during my writing journey. Thank you for egging me on whenever I wanted to give up.

To my sisters—Suja, Jayu, Sabi & Lak

You are my support system. Thank you for all the encouragement. Especially Jayu and Lak—thank you for reading every little para of every version that I have written.

To my children—Vinitha & Vignesh

Thank you for encouraging me at every step of my writing journey, for being the best.

To Rubina Ramesh

Without you, my books would still be on my blog. Thank you Rubina! It's because of you that I am a published author today.

To Devika Fernando, Inderpreet Kaur Uppal, Nikita Jhanglani & Sumeetha Manikandan

Thank you for your valuable inputs after beta reading The Madras Affair.

To Nilima Mohite

Thank you for keeping me grounded during the wait for The Madras Affair to take shape. and for keeping me busy while you created my website.

To Readomania

Thank you for bringing my writing to a whole new level. Thank you Readomania for making my dream come true.

To Indrani Ganguly, Editor of The Madras Affair

Thank you for patiently reading my book so many times and doing a perfect job of editing it.

To Dipankar Mukherjee

Thank you for your patience and your vision. The Madras Affair has taken its final shape today thanks to you.

To the Almighty

Thank you for wanting to experience writing through me!

1

The TTK Auditorium in Chennai exploded with thunderous applause as Sangita Sinclair took the podium. Mike in hand, she patiently waited for the audience to settle down. The head of Penn Urimai—an NGO for battered and downtrodden women, especially housewives—Sangita had come a long way over the past decade.

The claps came to an end, finally. Sangita smiled as she caught sight of the four people in the front row, sitting towards her left. They were the last to stop applauding, her close-knit family. There was her husband, Gautam, his blue eyes glowing with pride. Sandeep, her first born, was a strapping young man of nineteen. His dark eyes were focused on his mother, while his hand held his father's in a tight grip. Gina and Sam were thirteen and ten respectively, just beginning to understand the impact of their mother's work. They were very excited being part of the award function.

“Good evening my friends!” A pin could have been heard dropping as Sangita began her speech that lasted for exactly twelve minutes. The passion in her voice struck a chord with those present, more than the words she uttered. To say that her short speech inspired many in the audience was an understatement.

A spontaneous, standing ovation greeted her as she finished speaking. Sangita accepted the large bouquet and medallion presented to her, her eyes bright with the sheen of unshed tears, her heart overflowing with gratitude towards the man who had made it all possible, the man who was her husband.

She walked down from the stage, her eyes on Gautam as he nodded his head in appreciation. Sangita went and sat next to him, surrounded by her three children.

The programme continued for another fifteen minutes before everyone rose for the National Anthem. A number of people wanted to meet Sangita. With a smile here and a nod there, she kept the talk brief, mindful of her waiting family.

A young lady approached her and shook her hand, “Hello Sangita Ma'am, I'm Aarti from a website called Women's Freedom. It would be an honour to interview you. I hope you'll be able to make time for it.”

Sangita nodded at Aarti before saying softly, “Sure.” She handed the younger woman a visiting card. “Call me tomorrow.”

“Err...ma'am, will it be alright if I send you my questions by email?” asked Aarti, checking the card to see if it mentioned an email ID.

Sangita nodded again and said, “Of course,” before taking her leave.

The five of them left the auditorium; Gautam's arm secure around Sangita's shoulders. While an innate shyness stopped Sangita from indulging in a public display of affection, it never stopped her husband from behaving exactly the way he pleased. He loved his wife and never hesitated to show it at every opportunity.

“You're simply superb, my love,” he whispered in her ear, sending goose pimples down her body. Sangita gave him a searing look that spoke volumes. Gautam's body tightened in response as he hugged her closer, giving her a brief kiss in the car park.

They got into the car to go to the Golden Dragon at Taj Coromandel, their favourite restaurant, for a noisy, family dinner. There was so much to catch up with Sandeep, who lived in Pennsylvania nowadays, a student at the state university. Gina and Sam couldn't get enough of their elder brother's attention.

It was quite late when they reached Shraddanjali, their bungalow in Besant Nagar.

Later that night, Sangita shut her laptop and turned around to see her husband still working on his. Her eyes glowed with love for him. Even after knowing him for fifteen years, she felt her heart melt every time he looked at her. Gautam seemed to sense her gaze and turned around to look at her, a smile on his face, the dimple on his right cheek prominent. “Are you done?” he asked, stretching his arms over his head.

“Hmm,” she said, walking up to him. She put her arms around his waist and rested her head on his chest. “And you?”

“With you holding me like this, you really think I wanna work?” he asked, pressing his lips to the top of her head, his arms going around her.

Sangita giggled like a little girl, snuggling closer. “Love me,” she whispered, pressing her lips to his chest, pulling at the buttons on his T-shirt. Gautam didn't need a second invitation. He lifted her in his arms and walked towards the bed.

The next day, Sangita opened her email to find a questionnaire from Aarti. She downloaded the document and perused it. Her eyes stopped at the third question. Aarti had asked, “I have noticed that NGOs that are successful are usually driven by passionate people. And that level of dedication occurs from their life experiences. Is there any particular incident from your life that inspired you to set up your NGO for downtrodden women? Especially those that don't get help from the law?”

She had a valid question there, thought Sangita. Her passion for Penn Urimai indeed stemmed from her own experiences. She got up to make herself a cup of coffee, not wanting to disturb the cook as he was preparing lunch. Walking out into the garden, Sangita sat on the grass to relish her coffee, enjoying the light warmth of the early morning sunrays in the cool weather. Her thoughts went back to her life before Gautam...

2

1995...

Sangita crooned softly to the sleeping baby in the cradle. Her face glowed with motherly love in the soft radiance from the night lamp.

Three-month-old Sandeep was fast asleep with his left thumb stuck firmly into the rosebud of his mouth, totally unaware of the turmoil in his mother's heart. He whimpered in protest as Sangita tried to remove his little thumb. He wriggled his small body into a more comfortable position, tucked his thumb resolutely into his mouth once again and went back to sleep. She smiled at her son's cherubic face. “Determined little brat,” she scolded him softly.

Sandeep had become the pivot of her very existence since even before he was born. She loved him with all the affection she was capable of. Tears dampened her chocolate-brown eyes when she thought of Sandeep's father, her husband Giridhar. She wiped a hand violently over her eyes, trying in vain to stop the flow that was soon becoming a flood.

What had she ever done to deserve such a husband? She wondered. Why had he married her when it was obvious that he didn't care for her at all? Sangita moved away from the cradle, not wanting her desperate sobs to disturb the sleeping infant.

Sometimes she wondered whether she had married a human being at all. An animal, that's what Giridhar was. But she was sure that even animals treated their own kind with more compassion.

Her wedding night came back to haunt her. Giridhar had ravaged her on that night which is such an important event in a young woman's life, especially one who had saved her virginity for her husband.

Sangita shook her head impatiently as she stared out of the balcony of their second-floor apartment. A small sliver of a moon was shining weakly down on the earth, while the stars winked at her. She wondered if they found her dilemma amusing. They were too far away to comprehend her pain. She smiled bitterly up at them, “Go on and wink all you want. Even I might find the situation funny if I were up there among you,” she whispered.

Yes, Sangita conversed with the sun, the moon, the stars and her diary. The only human being whom she spoke with animatedly couldn't reply to her words. Not yet.

While her husband had raped her body, her parents had ravished her very spirit. They were unable to understand that Giridhar was doing his best to break down her will, though without much success. Not having any close friends, Sangita had turned to her parents for support only to have the door shut on her face.

She had run back to them the morning after her horrible wedding night, only to be handed over to her evil husband as if she were an object rather than a flesh-and-blood person. “A woman's place is with her husband, Sangita. She has no respect if she stays away from him. Living with her parents or brother is fine only until she's married. But after that her place is with her spouse,” lectured her mother.

'Even if he abused her body on their wedding night?' Sangita's mind screamed. She never voiced her question. What was the use?

She put up with her husband's sexual advances while thanking the unknown Rosy who kept them to the bare minimum by her own demands on him. Pregnancy had been a refuge from his revolting touch when she lied to him that the doctor had advised her against sexual intercourse. The fool had swallowed the lie, not being interested enough to accompany her for any of the check-ups.

Sangita had been extremely grateful to God that she didn't have to suffer his touch during her pregnancy. However, that didn't stop Giridhar from lashing her with his tongue. The tantrums he threw increased day by day, more because the insults bounced off her like water off a duck's back.

But it was not long before Giridhar again ravaged her body and soul.

Sangita had been sitting on the cot that she now considered her own while Giridhar slept either in the other room or at Rosy's flat a few buildings away. Baby Sandeep was on her lap suckling at her breast. She had been caressing his dark curls while he gurgled, his chocolate-brown eyes shining up at her.

“Sweetheart, you're so handsome,” she crooned to the baby.

Sandeep removed his mouth from her teat to give her a toothless grin.

Giridhar walked in on this loving, domestic scene and rage boiled in his body. He had returned home some time back. When Sangita did not respond to his calls many times, he had followed the gurgling noises into the bedroom.

The sight that met his bloodshot eyes tightened his loins. He didn't have a great opinion about Sangita's beauty. She was but an available convenience.

But...Giridhar stared at her bared breast. It was rounder and fuller than before, the golden-brown aureole shining from Sandeep's nursing.

He was livid. This was what she'd been denying him, her husband. A menacing growl broke out from him as he walked forward, his gaze pinned on her bare breast, animal lust in his eyes.

A fine tremor shook through Sangita's slender body when she noticed her husband at the bedroom door. Totally involved with the baby, she couldn't make out what had caught his gaze. The moment she realised that he was staring at her bare breast, she jumped out of the cot to turn away, covering her body with her sari. She placed Sandeep in the cradle in a hurry and stood there shaking, hoping that her husband leave the room. She rocked the cradle gently, hoping that his father's presence wouldn't disturb the baby.

“I'm hungry.” The voice was too close for comfort.

Sangita turned her fearful gaze to him. “Dinner's ready. I'll set it on the table,” came the timid reply. She saw to her relief that Sandeep's eyes had closed in slumber and tried to make good her escape.

“Not so fast.” A hard hand clamped over her shoulder, stopping her mid-stride. The other arm circled her body, his fingers pushing her sari away to clamp over the bare breast that seemed to taunt him. He squeezed hard; revelling in its softness, not caring that Sangita's body trembled in revulsion and fear.

“Let me go,” she begged, holding her body still, fully aware that any struggle would only incite him further.

“No,” came the vehement reply as Giridhar bent down to bite the soft flesh between her neck and shoulder.

Sangita bit her lips to gag the revolt that her body wanted to scream out. She forced herself to relax. When Giridhar's hold slackened, Sangita shoved him away to run into the hall. She heard his heavy steps following her and gave in to the inevitable. At least they wouldn't be disturbing her sleeping son.

Giridhar pulled her into his arms forcefully, while clamping his lips to her breast and biting hard. Sangita winced in protest. He lifted her bodily and kicking open the door of his bedroom, threw her on the bed. He furiously ripped her clothes off.

Sangita held her arms against her chest.

“Don't tell me you feel shy,” he snarled. “What about the times when you frolicked with your bastard's father?” Sangita turned pale on hearing that. “Don't tell me that he was a better lover than me.”

Sangita crushed down the hysterical laughter that tried to gush out from her throat. Did he even know the meaning of 'lover'?

She closed her eyes tightly as Giridhar pushed her flat on the bed. “I'd better use a condom. Unless I want to catch whatever you might have got from the other guys, considering that you have the morals of an alley cat,” he said.

Sangita wasn't in a frame of mind to appreciate the humour in his statement. She just waited for him to finish what he had come for. She felt her gut wrench as she heard his groan of satisfaction. The core of her femininity burnt in pain and humiliation. She felt filthy and degraded.

She got off the bed the moment she felt her husband's body moving away. Gathering her discarded clothes she ran to the bathroom. She was violently sick.

She turned to catch a glimpse of her naked body in the full-length mirror and shuddered. She closed her eyes tightly to shut out the image of her hourglass shape. Many of her friends at college had envied her well-formed figure. She had been rather conscious of her small breasts, which had become lush and full after childbirth while the rest of her body had regained its pre-pregnancy shape.

But Sangita didn't see any of this in the mirror. She only saw a body, which tempted a man like Giridhar. She just hated it.

She turned the shower on and scrubbed herself twice with soap trying to remove the imprint of Giridhar's touch. She felt like trash everytime he touched her.

'But what about my heart and soul that he tramples on again and again?' she thought bitterly as she pulled a nightdress over her head.

Sangita came out of the grip of her morbid thoughts when she saw the flash of a shooting star in the clear sky. Her lips curled in a bitter smile. The myth was that a person's wish came true on sighting a shooting star. So what should she wish for?

'My husband dead, what else?' came the unbidden thought.

Sangita shuddered. She wasn't given to such violent thoughts normally. But that day, Giridhar had surpassed himself. She just had no escape from this marriage. Divorce was out of the question. Her parents would never agree to it. They had their heads buried firmly in the sand, not wanting to acknowledge the failure of their daughter's marriage. What would their friends and neighbours think? That counted more than their daughter's torn self-esteem.

So, the best thing would be if Giridhar died. Sangita reined in her foolish thought. 'What kind of madness was this?' She was too restless to go to sleep and sat down at the writing table to pour her pain into her diary.

It was past midnight when the doorbell rang. Sangita put her pen down, startled. That was strange. Giridhar usually carried his keys. Who could that be?

She got up reluctantly, a sense of foreboding attacking her. The bell rang again. She switched on the corridor light and opened the inner door to look through the glass window on the outer door. She saw two policemen standing outside.

“Yes?” she asked questioningly, her gaze wary, her heart thumping away anxiously.

“This is flat no.11, is that correct?” asked the younger of the two who was a constable, appearing confident that he had got the right apartment.

“Yes,” replied Sangita in a timid voice.

“Mr. Giridhar?”

She nodded, wondering whether she should inform them that he wasn't at home. Even if they were policemen, she wasn't sure that she should let them know that she was all alone at home with a small baby. It was, after all, the middle of the night.

“Well, madam,” the older of the two, who was wearing an inspector's uniform, cleared his throat. “Could you please open the outer door?” he requested, flashing his identity card. Sub-Inspector Pandian, it read.

Sangita hesitantly opened the lock and stood at the doorway, blocking the entrance.

“Well...madam, we would like to...inform you...well, there's been an accident. A man riding a motorcycle crashed into a lamppost and died on the spot.”

The constable took over. “The company identity card says that his name's Giridhar and this is his residential address...”

Sangita shivered in the cool air that blew from the open balcony. She just couldn't believe her ears. 'Giridhar dead, could it be true?'

“Are you sure?” she whispered.

The policemen were quite worried about her. SI Pandian had a married daughter of about Sangita's age. He felt extremely sorry for her.

“Here are the watch, wallet and gold chain that were found on the body. Do you recognise them?

”The chain with a gold medallion and the expensive watch flashed before Sangita's eyes. They were part of the dowry Giridhar had demanded and taken from her parents.

Her heart jumped up to block her throat while her hands and feet chilled in nervous excitement. She was free! Free from the bastard who had ruined her life for the past one and a half years. Free at last! Her mind sang with joy, her spirit soaring to the heavens. “

Madam...” the policeman was hesitant. He wasn't sure how the lady in front of him was connected to the dead man. He had presumed that she must be his wife. But her reaction was rather strange. Her eyes were glittering in the light shining down on them. “Madam,” he called out once again, “you're…”

“Sangita Giridhar, his wife,” she answered in a daze. She didn't quite know what to do or say.

SI Pandian felt a terrible sense of remorse for her. “Well, Mrs. Giridhar, we're extremely sorry to be bearing such bad tidings. Is there someone we can contact? Your parents or his or...may be some other relative?” he questioned gently.

Sangita looked at him, as if to wonder why he was interrupting her moment of elation. “Oh, yeah, okay. Will you please come in and call my parents?” she requested him, not wanting to talk to her mother just now.

The two men walked in, leaving the door ajar. By now a nosy neighbour put his head in to find out what was happening. The constable was only too happy to give him the necessary information. In a short while many people had gathered at Sangita's flat, some of whom she knew only by sight and the others not at all.

A piercing shriek tore into the night as Radha came howling to her daughter's side, followed by her husband Gopal, two sons and her daughter-in-law, Rekha. She wept loudly much to Sangita's embarrassment. She was also worried that her mother's lament would wake her sleeping son.

Radha ranted and raved at her daughter's loss, her wails seeming to go up and down like the waves of a turbulent sea. Sangita watched the drama in front of her eyes, feeling quite removed from the scene.

Sandeep slept through it all, totally oblivious to the situation.

Her brothers Raghavan and Rakesh arranged for Giridhar's body to be brought home after the post mortem. The final rites were to be performed the next afternoon. Radha bawled her guts out, screaming at and chiding her daughter for becoming a widow. Sangita sat stonily through the whole proceeding, finding comfort in her sister-in-law's arm around her.

The relatives and neighbours kept commenting at the lack of tears in Sangita's eyes.

“Must be the shock, you see. He died so suddenly. Poor man. Didn't have the luck to see his son grow up. Hmm...” sighed Pankajam Maami, Radha's neighbour.

Giridhar's parents arrived by the late morning flight, piling abuses on Sangita and their grandson, Sandeep, holding them responsible for their son's death. 'The child had brought him bad luck,' they said. No one really acknowledged or mentioned the fact that Giridhar had been stone drunk when he rammed his bike into the lamppost, causing the accident and consequently his death.

There was no change in Sangita's expression. It was expressionless as ever. Rekha was disturbed on noticing that. She took her sister-in-law to her bedroom and shut the door.

“Sangita, my dear,” she spoke gently, “are you feeling alright?”

Sangita looked up at her sister-in-law, “Manni,” her eyes were clear; totally undisturbed by the events that were taking place, “I think I'm in a kind of daze. I still can't believe that he's dead. I feel as if an extremely vicious curse has been lifted off me.” She gave her sister-in-law a small, nervous smile. Rekha had some idea about what Sangita had undergone as Giridhar's wife. They had become quite friendly when Sangita had gone to her parents' home for her delivery.

Although a mite startled by Sangita's reaction, Rekha could understand that her sister-in-law was relieved by her husband's death. She gave her a small smile and hugged Sangita as the door burst open and Radha barged in.

Radha looked at her daughter for a second with something akin to hatred on her face before crying out again. Sangita felt the whole impact of the situation over the next few days as Hindu priests walked in and out of the house, performing the last rites for the departed soul. She rather wondered how her mother could sob so consistently.

The word 'widow' which was mentioned in a whisper at the beginning grew louder by the day.

People were quite vociferous in their opinions. Someone said that Sangita should stop wearing a caste mark. Another said that she should stop wearing colourful saris and stick to only white ones, so on and so forth. With the treatment being meted out to her, it seemed as if along with her husband, Sangita had also given up her life. All that remained was perhaps just a body without soul. There could be no joy, colour or hope left for her; after all she was a widow!

The crowning glory was the suggestion given by her father's aunt who had come from the remote village of Kandamangalam in Tamil Nadu. She was insistent that Sangita's hair should be shorn off on the tenth day after the funeral.

That outdated ritual, mostly prevalent in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, stemmed from the idea that widows must avoid any kind of temptation. Hence their heads were shaved off to make them unattractive to men.

But who followed it now, at the turn of the twenty-first century? Raghavan raised his voice in protest. He was quiet by nature, always giving in to his parents' wishes. But he thought this idea was absolutely ridiculous and exceedingly unfair to his young sister.

But his parents were not only keen but also adamant. They didn't want to go against the old aunt and earn a bad name in society. Rekha was absolutely shocked and left in tears when she heard of this.

Help came from unexpected quarters.

Ganapathi was a friend of Gopal's. They went to the same temple. He was the chairman of the trust running the Trilok Hospital at Besant Nagar and was considered quite an influential member of the society.

“Gopal,” said Ganapathi softly. Sangita's father looked at him. “What are you people talking about? Sangita's so young. How can you even imagine doing such a terrible thing? She's so hauntingly beautiful. What an awful thing to do! Please remember that this custom died at least half a century ago.”

Gopal's aunt pushed him aside and spoke out. “The reason why a widow's head is shaved off is to detract men from her beauty. Even you agree that Sangita is very attractive. She shouldn't catch the attention of men towards her, you see,” she said, her gaze triumphant, confident that she had got him there.

Radha nodded her head vigorously, forgetting to wail for the first time since the death of her son-in-law. “Athai is right,” she agreed.

Vimala, Ganapathi's wife, was a warm-hearted and open-minded lady. She watched the scene in front of her, wondering whether the people surrounding her had any compassion at all for the young widow. Tears filled her eyes looking at Sangita's dark head that was bent low. How could her mother consider doing this to her own daughter? She looked at her husband beseechingly.

Ganapathi turned to Gopal and tried appealing to him once again. Raghavan joined him in his pleas. “Please Appa, whatever happened is done. We can't undo it. Giridhar's gone away for good. Let's not do this to Sangita.”

Gopal glared at his son who had dared to argue with him for probably the first time in his life. But for once Raghavan refused to budge from his stance. The argument went on for a while with Athai's and Radha's voices rising by the minute.

Ganapathi very rarely lost his temper. But he did, just then. His dark eyes glittered furiously as he looked at Gopal and Radha, ignoring the old lady hovering around very importantly. “Frustrated old bag of bones,” he muttered under his breath. The old lady was probably the same age as he. “Well, Gopal, I don't want to argue with you any further. Sangita,” he called out. “I'm sure you're aware of your legal rights. You're over eighteen. You don't have to put up with this, my dear.” Sangita moved closer to the elderly couple and Vimala put a loving arm around her.

“If it's alright with you, you can move into our home along with Sandeep, my dear. You both are welcome.”

Silence reigned in the room for a few seconds just before pandemonium broke out. Ganapathi stood back to watch the uproar he had created. Raghavan looked at him with gratitude.

Finally, Gopal and Radha were forced to see sense and give up the silly idea much to the chagrin of their disgruntled aunt. She felt cheated out of the free entertainment show she had planned at her great niece's expense. Looked like her melodramatic soap opera would have to wait for another time!

Sangita moved back to her parents' home with her son. It was like falling back into the frying pan from the fire as she continued to live a restricted life there. The only cheerful thing was the presence of Rekha.

3

Sangita completed answering the interview questions and mailed the document back to Aarti. She felt emotionally drained. Thinking about her marriage to Giridhar and life after he died wasn't easy. But Sangita had come a long way from her sordid past to her beautiful present. Her cell phone rang in the latter half of the day. Aarti said, “Sorry to bother you. Just one more question, Ma'am. How did you cope during the years after Mr. Giridhar's death?”

It looked like a day to recall her past life. Sangita smiled to herself as she went back to the exact day when she met Gautam.

2000...

Sangita and her son lived with her parents, her brothers, sister-in-law Rekha and niece Ramya.

Her father had retired from his job as branch manager of a scheduled bank. He had managed to purchase a small duplex at Adyar pitching his and Raghavan's savings. Two more bedrooms were being built on the second floor to accommodate the growing family.

Her mother Radha was very old school. Not a day went by without her lamenting over her daughter's loss. She either began in the morning, forcing Sangita to choke on her breakfast or managed to wait until she entered the house in the evening and start her tearful rendition of Sangita's life without Giridhar.

It was ironical that Sangita had been a widow for almost five years now while she had been married to Giridhar for less than two. She wasn't even sure she could recall her dead husband's face clearly, not that she complained. She had been married at nineteen, had become a mother at twenty and had been widowed three months later.

Today, she was twentyfive years old and had no complaints against her life. She had got this job at the hospital within a few months of her husband's death. Rekha had been an angel and looked after her son with Radha's help. Widow remarriage was an unheard concept in their orthodox family. Sangita had no such aspirations after her disastrous first marriage. It had left a really bad taste in her mouth.

That morning Sangita rushed into the hospital reception. It was five minutes to nine o' clock.

She had been working at the Trilok Hospital at Besant Nagar in Madras for the past four and a half years as a receptionist. Her timings were from nine in the morning till five in the evening. She was usually at her desk latest by 8.45 am. Today she was late by ten minutes.

But Sandeep had been very cranky that morning which was unusual for him. Her eyebrows puckered in a frown as she recalled the way he had clung to her sari, refusing to allow her to leave for work.

She smiled at her friend Rithika who was already at the reception.

“Sorry, Rithika, I'm late.” Sangita stated the obvious.

“Relax, Sangita. This is probably the first time in all these years. Everything's under control. No emergency so far.”

Sangita took a deep breath before settling down in the swivelling chair behind her desk.

“Hi beautiful, can you help me?” There was an American accent in the voice that asked the question.

Sangita looked up, startled to see a stranger—an exceptionally handsome one—standing in front of her desk, his face grimaced in pain. She couldn't help staring at his sharp features, unable to take her eyes off his face. Had he just called her beautiful? She instinctively got up from her chair and said, “Yes, Mr...”

“Gautam, the name's Gautam Sinclair. It's my arm. I think I've cracked a bone.” He smiled at her through his obvious pain. The bright blue eyes on the otherwise Indian face were incredible.

“Dr. Sukumar must be in. Please come along with me.” She walked with him towards the lift. “The orthopaedic ward's on the second floor.” Sangita waited with him for the lift.

They entered Dr. Sukumar's cabin. “How did you manage that, Mr. Sinclair?”

“Please call me Gautam, Ms...?” a golden eyebrow went up in query. He had not failed to notice the beautiful lady at the reception clad in a simple sari.

“I'm Sangita.” She smiled at him pleasantly, an impersonal smile. “This is it, Mr. Sinclair. The doctor should be here any minute now.” The door on the other side opened to allow Dr. Sukumar in. “Ah, there he is. Good morning, Doctor! You'll have to excuse me now, Mr. Sinclair. Please fill out the necessary forms on your way out.” Sangita waved to him before she left him in the doctor's care.

Gautam stared as the door closed behind her, his pain forgotten. He wasn't sure whether the lady had been real or a figment of his imagination. He had been floored by her beauty.

Dr. Sukumar cleared his throat to claim his new patient's attention. Gautam turned around to look at the doctor. “Hi doctor, I'm Gautam Sinclair. I had a fall and I think I've cracked my arm.” He grimaced as he lifted the said anatomy for the doctor's inspection as he put his right hand out to shake the doctor's.

“Please sit down, Mr. Sinclair, and don't move your arm.” Dr. Sukumar felt his way around Gautam's left forearm. “The ulna's cracked, I reckon, probably it gave under pressure when you tried to brace yourself. Come on, let's get an x-ray done.” Dr. Sukumar removed a disposable syringe and needle and administered an injection to Gautam's right arm. “That should take care of the pain for a few hours.”

While waiting for the x-ray report, Gautam asked the doctor about Sangita. “The lady at the reception, Ms. Sangita. Well, I wanted...”

Dr. Sukumar laughed loudly. He appeared to be in his early forties. “Oh, you feel attracted to her too. She is the original merry widow of the hospital, but a frigid bitch.”

Gautam hid his shock well as he heard the cruelty in the doctor's voice. He had got one fact clear though. Sangita was a widow.

The doctor droned on, heaping abuses on Sangita's head. His frustration originated from the fact that he had, out of great pity for the young widow, offered to bed her. She had thrown the offer back on his face, quietly and with dignity. He was a father of three with a charming wife.

Gautam switched off from the doctor's monologue, as he preferred to form his own opinions. His thoughts went back to Sangita.

He had been but a few feet behind her as she entered the hospital that morning. Despite his pain, he couldn't fail to admire her. Her hair had been in a low knot at the nape of her neck. The low cut neck of her pale mauve blouse had shown a large expanse of smooth skin, the colour of golden wheat. She was draped in a simple, white cotton sari with matching mauve-coloured motifs. She seemed almost unreal. Gautam had the strong urge to touch the bare skin on her midriff to assure himself that she was not a figment of his imagination.

He had waited for a few minutes to bring this urge under control and also to give her time to settle down at her desk. He got to see her face for the first time when she had gone around her desk and sat down.

At that moment he could well understand why some poets never tire of waxing lyrical about a woman's beauty. Her broad forehead sported a tiny, black dot for a caste mark. Her shapely, dark eyebrows seemed to be in constant movement, expressing her every thought and word. Her eyes were a gorgeous shade of brown, reminding him of molten chocolate. She had an aquiline nose and a round chin. Her mouth was small and red, the upper lip shaped like a cupid's bow and the lower one lusciously thick. His gaze moved downwards while his peripheral registered that the other lady was about to catch his attention. Immediately he spoke to Sangita, postponing further study of her alluring figure.

Dr. Sukumar studied the x-ray against the light. An assistant was preparing Gautam's bandage.

“The cast will have to remain for at least ten days. I'll prescribe some painkillers for a couple of days,” said Dr. Sukumar as he cast the bandage around his patient's forearm. “There's no reason this shouldn't heal soon. See me next Wednesday. We'll start you on physiotherapy then. You may have to come in everyday for about three weeks.”

“Sure, Doctor.” Gautam was a trifle disappointed that he'd get to visit the hospital again only next week.

“Now, about Sangita,” Dr. Sukumar went around to the same subject as his assistant left the cabin, “Wish you luck, young man. I hope you have a good time thawing her.” He laughed at his own joke, giving Gautam a broad wink, man-to-man. He didn't notice Gautam's face go tight with revulsion.

Gautam got up to leave as his cast dried. “Thank you, Dr. Sukumar, for everything. Your fees...”

“You may pay at the reception, Mr. Sinclair. Ah, I've been meaning to ask you. That's a strange combination, Gautam Sinclair—Indian name, foreign surname.”

“Well, my mother's an Indian and father American.” Gautam didn't elaborate further and left before the doctor could ask him anything more.

He stepped out of the lift and walked directly to Sangita. There were five people standing at the reception desk while she and the other girl attended to them one by one. Gautam became a little impatient as he waited for his turn.

He took out his cell phone to call the Loyola College, where he was a professor of English, to inform them that he wouldn't be coming in that day. Then he sat back on the sofa and closed his eyes to rest for a while.

Sangita watched him from behind her desk. The well-built man who had towered over her in the lift appeared strangely vulnerable, sitting on the sofa, his head against the back rest, with the bright blue, inquisitive eyes closed. Long, thick and golden-brown lashes fanned his cheeks and the pain that was visible on his face earlier, seemed gone. He looked relaxed.

Sangita felt a mild stirring of curiosity and something else she couldn't quite put a finger to. This man, Gautam, had fascinated her from the moment she set her eyes on him. What was it about him, she questioned herself as she watched him. He was almost beautiful, she thought. She tended to meet a lot of people day in and day out as the receptionist of the upper-crust hospital. But she had never given anyone a second thought, especially men. She steered clear of the species. Once bitten, twice shy!

Sangita found herself looking directly into the pair of blue eyes that had been closed in slumber a minute before. She turned red as he smiled at her, his whole face alight, blue eyes sparkling.

Gautam got up and stretched one arm before covering a yawn behind his fingers. He walked across to Sangita and grinned apologetically. “I'm sorry about that, guess I dozed off.” The rest had obviously done him good.

“That's okay. If you could fill out this form Mr. Sinclair? And the fee would be Rs. 1500, please. There'll be no extra charge for making use of the hospital sofa for a couple of hours.” Sangita kept her face straight as she glanced at the tiny watch on her wrist.

“What? A couple of hours? You must surely be joking,” Gautam looked at the clock behind her. 12.15. He wasn't wearing his watch for obvious reasons. “I don't believe this,” he shook his head in amazement. “I was out for two hours! Damn,” he swore softly. “You should've woken me up, though I noticed you're quite busy.” He looked dazed, feeling disoriented. The injection had obviously been strong and he had been working late the earlier night.

Sangita smiled at his confusion as she gave the form to him. He sat down in one of the chairs in front of her, filling the form. Sangita ran her eyes over the paper as she checked that all the necessary details had been added. She gave Gautam a receipt as he handed over the money to her.

“Well, Sangita, charmed to meet you,” he smiled widely and she noticed for the first time the tiny dimple that peeped out of his right cheek, just beside the corner of his mouth, “and now I'll have to take your leave. See you next Wednesday”. Gautam raised two fingers in a mock salute, turned and left the reception.

“Oh my God! What a guy!” exclaimed Rithika. “I'd have swooned if he'd smiled at me the way he did at you.” She always opined that Sangita was wasting her youth away without a man to share it with. And for the first time in all these years she saw her friend pay some attention to a guy.

Sangita shrugged and didn't say anything in reply. She was sure that Gautam would probably meet a dozen girls before next Wednesday and wouldn't even remember her face, let alone her name.

4

Sangita went home that evening to find Sandeep unwell. He had developed a cold and mild temperature. No wonder he had been cranky in the morning. She cuddled him for a while. Rekha brought in some warm milk for the child and coffee for Sangita.

“Thanks, Rekha Manni. I really don't know what I'd do without you.” Sangita's voice was wobbly with unshed tears and gratitude, as she looked lovingly at her brother's wife who had become her dearest friend.

“Don't be silly, Sangita. I don't need formal thanks from you. I'm sure you'd have done the same if not more if our positions were reversed.” Rekha smiled at her young sister-in-law. She felt sad that her beauty and all the love she was capable of giving were being squandered away. She sighed softly.

Radha entered the room and let out a dramatic sigh. “If only Giridhar was here! If only you didn't have to fend for yourself! Hmm...” she sighed again. “All because of our fate. What to do? My poor child! You have to suffer it all alone. My dear grandson! How sad you never saw your father's face! Hmm...” another loud sigh.

Sandeep looked at his grandmother strangely. She fascinated him, grunting and groaning alternatively over his non-existent father. One thought dominated the child's mind. He urgently required a father to set his grandmother's mind at peace. He gave her an angelic smile as if to reassure her. It was totally wasted on the cranky old lady.

Rekha met Sangita's laughing eyes for a twinkling second before lowering her own, holding back the mirth that sprang to her lips.

Sangita turned to her son and biting her lower lip to withhold a teasing smile, told him, “Will you be alright with Radha Patti for a while, darling? I'll just pop down to the kitchen with Rekha Maami and help her with dinner.”

“Yeah, okay. But will you play Scrabble with Ramya and me when you're finished?”

“Sure, Sandeep. In an hour, then,” Sangita bent down to kiss her son's forehead before leaving him in the care of his grandmother.

The two of them entered the kitchen where Sangita served herself some upma and coconut chutney. “How about you, Manni?”

“Not for me, Sangita. I had a late lunch. So tell me, how was the hospital today?”

They had got into the routine of discussing their daily activity in the evenings. “You wouldn't believe this. A guy walked in today morning. Gautam Sinclair. The name suggests half Indian, half American, doesn't it?. He wrote in the hospital form that he is a professor. He looked like he came from a rich background. You should have seen his face, Manni. Brown hair with golden streaks, very fair skin, Indian features till you catch his eyes. Electric blue. Yeah. Don't look so surprised. He had bright blue eyes and a deep American accent. To top it all, a dimple, though only on the right cheek.”

Sangita went on and on about Gautam Sinclair. Rekha encouraged her to talk by putting forth a question now and then. She was thrilled to see her sister-in-law's animated reaction to someone. She had otherwise always seen an inherent sadness in the large, doe-like eyes.

Sangita stopped talking when she saw her mother walking into the kitchen.

“Sandeep's been running a temperature since morning. Only a bad cold, I think,” Rekha covered the lapse in the conversation by changing the subject.

Radha joined in, “Yeah, poor child. He seems to be suffering from chest congestion. If only...” The two younger women switched off and started getting dinner ready.

Gautam smiled at his students the next day. They had used up the better part of an hour enquiring after his accident and signing their best wishes on his plaster cast. They just needed an excuse to avoid the lecture. He smiled at the exuberant group indulgently.

They weren't a bad lot, he thought to himself. His own days as a student were not that far behind and he had not forgotten what made them tick. He could relate to them and that made him one of the most popular professors in the college.

“And now, my dear students, let's get back to...”

They groaned as one. “Sir, please. I'm sure your doctor will be shocked to see you at work so soon after your accident. Please don't strain yourself.” This was Shyam, his voice dripping concern, his eyes brimming with mischief.

“Shyam...” Gautam never got beyond that.

“And, sir, there are barely ten minutes left before the bell, anyway. Why don't you talk to us instead of teaching, please!” That was Nandita, one of the ace students in the class.

Gautam gave in and spent the rest of the class fooling with them.

“But tomorrow,” his voice rose above the chatter; Gautam paused a minute to get their undivided attention before continuing, “tomorrow, we continue with Julius Caesar and I hope to work faster than usual to compensate for the two days we've missed. I expect you guys to fully co-operate,” he grinned at them.

“Sure, sir,” the students spoke in unison as the bell rang announcing the end of class.

The whole day passed by in this fashion. All his students refused to let him teach and he put up with it for the day. The breaks were no better, his fellow professors wanting to know what had happened.

Finally, it was time to leave. Gautam left the college to hail an auto-rickshaw. He usually rode a motorbike to work. But that was out for the next couple of weeks. He gave the driver directions and sat back in the seat.

His thoughts immediately moved to Sangita. He sighed with pleasure. He looked forward to meeting her again.

Gautam lived in Besant Nagar, not far from the hospital. He wondered how he had never seen Sangita in the area. He shrugged his wide shoulders. He probably left the area to go to work while she came into Besant Nagar to begin her day at the hospital.

His eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled to himself recalling the events of the previous day. He had been so impatient with himself after the accident. But it looked like it was destiny; the broken arm had made it possible for him to meet Sangita.

Gautam lived with his maternal grandparents in a large bungalow, Shraddanjali, on MGR Road. His mother Swetha, and father Alistair Sinclair, lived in the USA. Gautam used to visit his grandparents with his whole family once every year and had opted to settle here as he fell in love with the city of Madras, now called Chennai. His grandparents had only been too happy to have him reside with them since the past four years.

Gautam couldn't wait for Wednesday to dawn when he could find out whether Sangita was for real. He wasn't awfully bothered about his broken arm.

The next few days moved at a snail's pace. Sangita caught herself recalling the short time she had spent in Gautam Sinclair's company. His blue eyes and that tiny dimple fascinated her. She'd never met a man with a dimple before. But this was nonsense! She seemed to be thinking of the stranger more often than not.

Silly, Sangita scolded herself. Why the sudden interest in a guy after all these years? And he was probably married with a family to boot. She paled at the thought. How foolish to keep thinking of a married man! Sangita shook herself out of her reverie to continue with the filing.

Unfortunately, there had been no column in the hospital form enquiring a patient's marital status. She sighed gently. What was wrong with her? She'd been like a dog with a bone, thinking about Gautam Sinclair, throughout the week. What a waste of energy! But telling herself so didn't stop her from doing just that.

5

Wednesday morning dawned to find butterflies fluttering in Sangita's stomach. She got Sandeep ready for his preschool in an absentminded fashion. She sat down at the dining table to have breakfast with her brothers. But the hot idlis her sister-in-law served with sambhar tasted like sawdust while her throat was too choked to swallow. It felt as if her heart had risen from her chest and settled in her throat, beating so hard and fast. Her hands and feet felt chilled and with great difficulty, Sangita forced down half a cup of coffee and with an apologetic smile to Rekha, left for work.

“What's wrong with the girl?” Sangita heard her mother asking no one in particular as she slipped on her shoes and fled before she was stopped.

Sangita reached the hospital earlier than usual. She sat down to switch her computer on. She had some information to feed in and bent down to remove the relevant files. She placed them in front of her and was staring stupidly at the computer screen when her friend walked in.

“My, my, aren't we early today?” teased Rithika, looking at the clock pointedly.

“And Good Morning to you too,” answered Sangita with mild sarcasm.

Rithika gave her friend a wide smile as she settled down behind her desk. “How about a cup of coffee?”

“Not for me, thanks.” Sangita's hands trembled as she shuffled the files on her desk. The frown that was forming on Rithika's forehead vanished as she realised the reason for the other woman's nervousness. She sent up a prayer to the Almighty.

Time moved at the pace of a tortoise. Sangita kept alternating her gaze between her watch and the doorway.

Suddenly, there were three people at the desk. Sangita reddened as she caught Gautam's slow smile. Her eyes searched for the dimple and she felt thrilled to find that it hadn't disappeared since his last visit.

He waited patiently for the two girls to deal with the other patients before moving towards Sangita.

“Hi, beautiful. How are you?” His voice was an intimate purr for her ears alone.

“I'm fine, thank you. Hey, I'm not the patient. How are you?” she asked, her voice a trifle breathless.

His brilliant eyes appeared to shine brighter than ever as Gautam smiled at Sangita. “Much better, thanks. Is Dr. Sukumar in?” His eyes roved over her features searchingly, wondering whether she had thought of him half as much as he had of her.

“Yeah, he is. I will get a nurse to accompany you...”

“There's no need. I can manage, thanks. Unless you'll come with me?” A golden eyebrow went up to touch his hairline. A lock of hair had fallen forward on his broad forehead.

Sangita looked at Rithika helplessly, her brown gaze disturbed.

“Why don't you go, Sangita? We aren't awfully busy. I can attend to anyone who comes in,” she said encouragingly.

Sangita stepped out from behind her desk rather reluctantly. Gautam was absolutely safe in her thoughts, totally under her control. Gautam in person was another deal altogether. Sangita was terrified of her reaction to the laughing blue eyes and was afraid to go anywhere near him. She walked along towards the lift, giving him a wide berth.

Gautam looked sideways, studying her profile. He was so focused that he almost walked into another patient who was coming from the opposite direction.

“Gautam!” Sangita put her hand on his arm to stop him from a head-on collision. He didn't fail to notice that his name had slipped out from her lips quite comfortably.

Sangita withdrew her hand in a hurry as a shock of electric current seemed to pass through her fingertips the moment she touched Gautam's hair-roughened forearm. Her shocked eyes met his for a second before she turned away in a rush.

But that split second had been enough to recognise the fire in his gaze.

“Thanks, Sangita,” Gautam's voice was hoarse.

Sangita's hand shook as she raised it to press the button for the lift. There was no one else when they got in. While Gautam tried his utmost to catch her eye, she refused to look at him.

He raised his hand to touch a tendril of hair that had escaped the low knot at the back of her neck. He tucked it behind her ear, but was shocked to see the genuine fear in her melting brown eyes.

“Sangita.” The lift came to a halt and was opened from the outside. There was no other chance for a conversation between them as they reached Dr. Sukumar's consulting room.

The doctor was already in and Sangita left Gautam at the door.

“Mr. Sinclair,” Dr. Sukumar gushed. He walked around his desk and came forward to greet Gautam with great enthusiasm. Gautam found that quite disconcerting. Dr. Sukumar hadn't struck him as a friendly person. “How are you?”

“I'm fine, Doctor.” Gautam's voice was quiet in contrast to the doctor's exuberance.

“You never told me that you're Mr. Ganapathi's grandson. I'd have...”

The reason for the other man's effusive attitude became obvious to Gautam. “I didn't know it mattered.”

“But, Mr. Sinclair, Mr. Ganapathi is the Chairman of the Board of Trustees of this hospital.”

Gautam looked at the other man coldly, wondering why the doctor was stating something they both knew. He just nodded his head, indicating that the doctor should go on.

“You should've told me,” the doctor insisted peevishly. “We'd have given you a royal treatment.”

“There wasn't anything wrong with the way I was treated, Dr. Sukumar. Actually...”

“Aah! But that's not the same.” His greedy little eyes ran over his patient, wanting to impress him.

Gautam made a great effort to keep the disgust from his face before drawing the doctor's attention to his plaster cast. “Can we get on with removing this, Doctor? I have to be at work soon.”

“Sure, my dear friend, sure,” gushed Dr. Sukumar before removing a pair of surgical scissors and cutting the bandage himself. The patient was too precious to be relegated to an assistant.

Gautam felt relieved when the plaster was removed. He flexed his fingers, and moved his arm this way and that to check.

“Wait,” screeched Dr. Sukumar. “Let me see your arm first.” His concern was obviously artificial as he moved his fingers over his patient's arm. “Seems to be well healed; let's get an x-ray done.”

The doctor tried his best to draw the younger man into a conversation as they waited for the report. Gautam dug in his heels and refused to oblige.

When the x-ray was ready, the doctor checked it against the light. “The crack's healed perfectly. That's great! You seem to be in excellent physical condition,” he complimented.

“The physiotherapy...” reminded Gautam, a trifle desperate, not wanting to miss the opportunity to visit the hospital. “

Yeah, I was just coming to that. You may start today, if you want. The physiotherapy department is open twentyfour hours. You may come in whenever it's convenient. Please fix up a suitable timing with the reception. Haan, I've been meaning to ask you. Made any progress with the frigid widow?” he winked conspiratorially at the stony-faced Gautam.

The latter took strong objection to the doctor calling Sangita 'frigid'. But he didn't want to get into an argument with him. “I beg your pardon?” His expression wasn't at all encouraging.

But the thick-skinned doctor was oblivious to the rising temperature in the other man's attitude. “Don't you remember? The frigid widow we were talking about the other day. San...”

“I don't know what you are talkin' about,” bit out Gautam, cutting off the doctor, his low voice ominous.

The doctor finally caught on that he wasn't enamouring himself in the Chairman's grandson's eyes and beat a hasty retreat.

“Well, Mr. Sinclair,” he got up from his chair. “It's been a pleasure treating you.” He shook Gautam's hand vigorously. “Do convey my regards to your grandfather. He's an old friend of mine.” He grinned from ear-to-ear. Gautam curbed the instinct that urged him to swing a fist at the doctor's grinning face, knocking all his teeth out.

“G'bye, doctor,” he said through gritted teeth. “And thank you.” Gautam's smile didn't quite reach his eyes as he waved carelessly in the doctor's direction before leaving the room.

He didn't have the patience to wait for the lift. He took the stairs two at a time and reached the reception to find Sangita nowhere in sight. The blue eyes clouded in disappointment before Rithika caught his eye and beckoned to him. He went forward eagerly.

“How honourable are your intentions?” Rithika was forthright in her query.

Gautam's first instinct was to tell her to mind her own business. His eyes burned a fiery blue before he realised that she was concerned for her friend. He smiled at her before asking softly, “Hundred percent good enough?” His eyes searched the reception hall for Sangita.

“Just perfect! Another five minutes and she'll be here.” Rithika gave him a considering look, her brows drawn together in concentration. “Are you aware that Sangita is a widow?” Encouraged by Gautam's nod, she continued, “She has a small son.”

“I know,” replied Gautam seriously.

“You're still interested...”

“Look here,” Gautam interrupted. “I'm not sure how far I'm willing to go. But I can promise you one thing. I'll never hurt your friend.” The blue eyes looked at her openly, their gaze quite honest.

Rithika stared at him for a few seconds before concluding, “Fair enough, Mr. Sinclair. Friends?” She put her hand out. “I'm Rithika.”

“Friends!” declared Gautam with a smile. “Do call me Gautam.”

Sangita walked in just as the two were shaking hands. She felt envious of their easy camaraderie.

Gautam watched her intently as she walked to her chair. He stopped her by placing a hand on her arm. “Is there a cafeteria here, where I can get some coffee?” He searched her face for a clue to her thoughts. But her features were rigid. Her arm trembled under his touch and Gautam withdrew his hand, puzzled.

“Yeah,” came the low reply. “In the basement.”

“Will you come with me?”

“No, Mr. Sinclair. I have work to do,” came the cold reply. So it was back to Mr. Sinclair. Gautam sighed.

“Please,” the word stuck in Gautam's throat as he used it rarely. “Let me buy you coffee to celebrate the removal of my cast,” he improvised in a hurry, anxious to spend some time with her.

Rithika stared at Sangita, her eyes compelling her friend to go with him.

“Okay,” said Sangita before walking towards the staircase. Two against one wasn't fair at all, she thought. Or was it three, including herself?

Gautam followed, walking a few feet behind her, as he thought that she would prefer it that way. But he was honestly glad to walk in her wake as he could admire her unhindered.

Sangita's slim hips swung gently as she moved forward, her steps unhurried. Today, the sari was off-white with light green motifs. Gautam imagined her in a bright-coloured sari. He was so lost in his thoughts that he walked straight into Sangita, almost knocking her over. He put out both his hands to hold her steady.

They had reached the cafeteria and Sangita had stopped near a table before turning towards him. Gautam had drifted into a daydream, draping a bright, red sari around her and hadn't realised that she had stopped walking.

His hands curled around Sangita's shoulders as she looked at him with startled eyes. “I didn't hurt you, I hope?” he asked softly, glad to see no fear in her eyes.

Sangita shook her head in a daze, her voice deserting her.

“I'm glad. Then I won't apologise. I quite enjoyed bumping into you,” he smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners, his hands tightening on her slender shoulders.

He'd obviously said the wrong thing. He watched with regret as Sangita removed herself from his hold and putting some distance between them, went to sit on a chair, not able to quite hide the tinge of fear in her eyes.

The contact with her pliant body had triggered off myriad sensations in his. Gautam hadn't exactly expected Sangita to swoon at his touch, but then, he had definitely not anticipated the fear.

His eyes darkened in a flash of temper. What did she think he was—a rapist or maybe a womaniser like that sleazy Dr. Sukumar? He was bewildered. He curbed his temper with difficulty and turned to Sangita with a composed face.

“So what will it be, coffee, tea or me?” he joked.

Sangita replied, “Coffee,” in a prim voice.

“Right, coffee it is.” He walked over to the self-service counter to place the order.

Sangita watched him, her brown gaze wary. It was a relief not to be under the blue-eyed scrutiny. He seemed to be studying her face all the time, searchingly. She was worried about what her features would reveal to him and felt vulnerable. When he had walked into her, she understood that it was a genuine mistake. Only her body seemed to have a mind of its own. Her nerves had jumped at the contact. Her body had undergone a shock when it came in touch with his hard frame. He seemed to be all bones, sinew and muscle. Not a bit of fat. And her body had leaped in response.

Sangita shook her head to clear it. Something wasn't right. She was probably reading the signs wrong. Yeah, that must be it. She had mistaken her apprehension for something else. Sangita couldn't stand a man near her. She shuddered inadvertently. Never again will she endure the humiliation of being under a man's thumb.

Sangita turned to see blue eyes gazing into hers. Gautam wondered what she had been thinking as he sat down on the chair across hers after setting a cup of coffee in front of her. She was pale.

“Sangita.”

“Mmm.”

“That's a lovely name.”

“Hmm...mm.”

The coffee was mediocre and Gautam got frustrated at the attention she was giving it.

“So, talk to me.”

“What about?” Again the trepidation.

Gautam controlled his instinct to swear. He didn't want her to run away. She was like a butterfly fluttering near a flower, ready to take flight at the slightest disturbance.

“Tell me about yourself.”

Sangita shrugged. “There's nothing to say.”

“Come on, Sangita. You haven't grown up to be a mature, young woman with nothing to say about your life.” Gautam sounded earnestly interested.

Sangita felt hesitant.

“Well, I'm Sangita.” She looked at him. Gautam nodded encouragingly.

“I am twentyfive, widowed and mother of five-year-old Sandeep.” She waited for the shock to hit his face. Nothing happened.

“What? No comments?” she asked.

It was Gautam's turn to shrug. “I feel sorry for your demised husband. Unlucky chap!”

Sangita was astonished. That was a first. People always felt pity for her. She couldn't help but recall the number of times friends and relatives had expressed their commiseration that she was a young widow. She hated their look of sympathy. She felt like a hypocrite, every time. But Gautam strangely seemed sorry for her late husband.

“Why do you say that?”

“Why?” he drawled, his forefinger against his lips, his eyes thoughtful as he gave her his complete attention. “I'd think 'twas obvious. The poor fool had no luck. He had you for a wife but didn't live long enough to enjoy it. Wouldn't you call that bad luck, missing out on a life with you?” he countered.

Colour ran high on Sangita's cheeks, as she looked away, unable to meet his eyes. Gautam was obviously reading her life from a different angle.

“Well,” Gautam egged her on, “Tell me more.”

“There isn't much else to say. I live with my parents and brothers. I have a nine-to-five job at this hospital. That's it.”

Gautam looked at her with immense interest, his coffee forgotten. It had only been an excuse anyway. She fascinated him. He didn't believe that it was possible to fall in love at first sight. Otherwise, he'd have admitted that that's what had happened to him.

“Now it's your turn. You tell me about yourself.” Sangita's brown eyes widened with curiosity. “Are you really a college professor?” She asked.

“Really. Why?”

She ignored his question. “What do you teach? Math? Science?”

“English.”

“English? Oh, really!” Gautam caught the trace of amusement in her eyes.

“Something funny?” A scowl gathered on his forehead, the expression in the blue eyes turning dangerous.

Sangita didn't answer him for a while. She stared into his eyes, mesmerised by their colour.

“Sangita,” Gautam snapped his fingers in front of her face, trying to recapture her attention.

“Yeah?”

“I asked you what's so funny about my teaching English.” His tone was belligerent.

She gave him a wide grin that lit up her whole face. He saw genuine amusement on her features for the first time and found himself short of breath. “

No, not the English part of it. I...nothing.” She clamped her mouth tightly with her hand, not wanting to continue. But her eyes glowed with mirth.

“Sangita.” There was a smile in his eyes as he found her amusement infectious. He pulled at her hand and said, “So, tell me.”

Sangita shook her head. “I'm not sure you'll like it.” Her eyes shone with mischief.

“Try me.”

“Well,” Sangita met his eyes for a second before looking down. “I've this preconceived idea of how a professor looks.” Her shoulders shook with laughter as her imagination drew a picture that was in total contrast to Gautam's personality.

He stared at her red face. She couldn't seem to stop laughing though she made no sound. He had great difficulty in controlling his hands from tickling her. He didn't think she would appreciate it. He waited impatiently for her gaiety to subside.

“Well?” he prompted after she calmed down.

Sangita looked down at the table, her finger tracing a pattern on the surface, not quite able to meet the brightness of his eyes. “My idea of a professor is,” she gave him a twinkling glance before looking away, “short, round in the middle, balding pate, umm...thickrimmed glasses. You don't exactly fit the bill, do you?” She spread her hands innocently before looking up at him.

Now it was Gautam's turn to laugh. His shoulders shook as laughter rumbled forth from deep down, his blue eyes flashing at her. “You're priceless, Sangita. I hope you'll let me continue to teach. I feel quite low, unable to meet your high standards,” he quipped, the dimple standing out in his right cheek, delighting her no end.

Sangita felt a bubble of happiness burst forth within her. She couldn't remember laughing about anything since her days as a student. She'd even forgotten that she used to have a sense of humour.

She looked at the man sitting in front of her. He frightened and excited her—a deadly combination. And for a woman coming from a conservative family such as hers, especially a widow, hanging around talking and laughing like this with a stranger was quite unheard of.

Gautam sensed her withdrawal even before she pushed her chair and got up to leave.

He followed her up the stairs. “Sangita.” She turned to look up at him. She barely reached his shoulder. He judged her to be about a foot shorter than his 6-feet-3-inch frame. “I plan to begin physiotherapy today. Will four o'clock work?”

“I think so. If you'll give me a minute, I'll note down the time. Will you be coming everyday at the same time?”

“Mostly yes. In case I'm not able to make it, I can call you, right?” he asked.

“Of course.” Sangita checked a list before making a note of Gautam's name against the four o'clock slot. “Okay then, Professor, have a good day.” The trace of mischief was back in her eyes.

“You too, beautiful. See you later.” Gautam smiled at her before turning to Rithika, “Bye, my friend, and thanks.”

“Bye.” That was Rithika as she watched Gautam taking long strides towards the entrance.

“Wow!” she exclaimed, studying Sangita's face. “Don't you think he's gorgeous? Every woman's dream?”

Sangita looked at Rithika. “Yeah, I suppose so.”

“So, what did he tell you?”

Sangita shrugged. “Nothing much.” Mischief flared in her eyes once again. “Just that he's an English professor. Does he look like an English professor from any angle to you?” she asked.

“Why? Do English professors come in a fixed model?”

Sangita giggled. “I suppose not. Only I can't imagine someone less like a professor. He appears more like a corporate honcho with his confident bearing.”

“I think he'll be quite at ease, whatever he does. I can imagine him holding a whole class of naughty students enthralled by his lecture on Shakespeare's works or whatever.”

Sangita nodded at her friend's comment. “You're right. That's how he is.”

“So what did you talk about?”

“Oh, this and that. Will you believe it, Rithika? I told him that I'm a widow with a five-year-old son. Not to shock him, you know. But I thought I should warn him before he thinks I'm free...”

“But you're free, Sangita. Legally, you can get married again. What's to stop you?”

“Rithika, you must be crazy. Remarriage and me? Just forget it. First of all, my family will never agree to it. And even if they did, I don't want to go to that particular prison again.”

“But you're wasting away your youth and beauty, Sangita.” Rithika's concern was genuine.

“Who says so? I probably have a safer life not wasting what's left of it, serving a bossy male. You don't know the species like I do, Rithika.” There was a trace of bitterness in Sangita's voice.

“But Sangita,” Rithika was at her persuasive best, “just because your husband was a lowlife, it doesn't mean that all men are the same.”

“Maybe not. But they do have a tendency to treat women like doormats.

“What about Sandeep? He's also a male. Do you think he'll give his wife a better deal?”

“You bet. I'll ensure that he grows up differently.”

“So being born a male is not the issue. The trick is in the way he grows up, right?” Rithika sounded triumphant.

“Probably.”

“There you're then. Gautam is obviously a gentleman...”

“How do you know? You just saw him a couple of times. Don't be silly, Rithika. Men are chauvinists. Look at my father and brothers. They may not be as bad as Giridhar was but they do tend to look down upon us womenfolk in the family.”

“But Gautam's not like that, I can assure you.”

“It's just wishful thinking on your part.”

Rithika shrugged her shoulders, deciding not to labour the point. She had liked Gautam on sight and despite modern times, few men came forward to befriend a widow with a child. Gautam definitely had a point in his favour.

6

Gautam reached home to be greeted enthusiastically by Butterscotch. The golden Labrador leapt at his master, licking his left arm, connecting to his pain as only a pet could.

“Butterscotch, you silly mutt,” Gautam scolded affectionately. “Don't lick my arm; it hasn't been washed for days.” He went on his haunches to rub the dog's neck. Butterscotch growled with pleasure. “I'll take you for a run along the beach in the evening, I promise.” Gautam patted the dog's head before getting up to go into the house.

His grandmother Vimala opened the door to let him in. Gautam put his arms around her to cuddle her. “Hi, Patti. Look at my arm.” He lifted it for her inspection. “The plaster's gone. I'm fit as a fiddle.” He kissed her cheek. Gautam adored his grandparents.

“Thank God for that. How much ever you grow up, Gautam, you're still a naughty boy,” she admonished. She had been worried about his fracture in her typical grandmother-style. “What did the doctor say?” She asked as they walked to the dining room.

“The x-ray's clear, Patti. I've to go for physiotherapy for a few days.”

Ganapathi, Gautam's grandfather, was at the dining table with the newspaper in his hand. He lowered it to eye his grandson's cast-free arm.

“Hi, Thatha, not had breakfast yet?” asked Gautam as he walked to the washbasin to scrub his arm thoroughly.

“No, you scamp, been waiting for you. What did the doctor say?” He looked at his grandson with concern. “

Everything's okay. All healed perfectly.” Gautam went to his grandfather and showed his left arm, all scrubbed and dry now.

“You've to take physiotherapy for how long?”

“Hmm, about ten days, I think.” Gautam had underplayed the accident right from the beginning. He knew how his grandparents worried. He sat next to his grandfather and checked the food on the table. There was masala dosai with sambhar and onion chutney. “Patti,” he called to Vimala who was in the kitchen, instructing the cook regarding lunch. “Aren't you joining us?”

“Coming, my dear.” Vimala sat on Ganapathi's left, her chair facing Gautam's.

Butterscotch had followed Gautam into the house and now sat on his haunches beside him. He looked at his master, his eyes brimming with hope for a chance morsel.

Gautam smiled down at the Lab before tossing half a dosai to him. Butterscotch gobbled the whole portion at one go and continued to look at Gautam, his dark eyes unwavering.

“That's enough, Gautam,” objected Vimala. “Butterscotch is getting too fat and thoroughly spoilt. He's already had a heavy breakfast. Butter,” she fixed the dog with a glare, her heart not quite in it, “go out and take a few rounds in the garden.” Butterscotch looked at Vimala with soulful eyes, hoping to persuade her to part with another piece.

“Butter, I think you'd better get going before Patti bans lunch,” laughed Gautam. He bent down and playfully swatted the dog on his rump with the newspaper. The dog gave him an accusing stare before walking out of the house, accompanied by laughter.

Gautam got up from the table and went on to get ready for the day. He came down wearing formal clothes with a tie. He was swinging the keys to his motorbike on the index finger of his right hand. Ganapathi looked up from the tailend of his newspaper. “You don't plan to ride your bike, do you?” He asked, anxiety puckering his features.

Gautam knelt down by Ganapathi's chair. “Yeah, Thatha. It's been a tough ten days without conveyance of my own.”

“But Gautam, that Pulsar's heavy. Your arm's just healing,” objected Ganapathi.

“Thatha, your grandson's strong. My arm's fine. Don't worry.” By now Vimala was also standing beside Ganapathi, adding her silent plea.

Gautam looked at the two of them, trying to curb his smile. He almost succeeded, but his dimple gave him away. “What's this? Two strong people against one weakling just recovering from fracture. Not fair.” He grinned cheekily.

Vimala lifted her hand to box his ear.

“Gautam, no bike rides. Not for another week. Do you hear me?” She was gentle but firm.

“Patti, please.” Gautam got up to hug her close, trying to change her mind. She was tiny, barely reaching his chest, but tough to cross.

Ganapathi sat back to watch the clash of wills between his wife and grandson with a trace of mischief in his twinkling eyes.

“No, Gautam. You'll have to promise me. No bike riding for another week. Just seven days, Gautam,” this as he made a gesture of protest, “I'm not asking you to give it up for life.” She patted his cheek.

Gautam turned to look at Ganapathi who was hooting with glee. He pointed a finger at him and said, “You vile, old man, just watch it. I'll get my back on you soon.” An empty threat if there was one! He glared at Ganapathi without rancour. “And you, my dear Patti, you've too much power over my heart.” He dropped a loving kiss on her grey head. “You can get away with murder as far as I'm concerned. Ganapathi looked up from the tailend of his newspaper. “You don't plan to ride your bike, do you?” He asked, anxiety puckering his features.

Gautam knelt down by Ganapathi's chair. “Yeah, Thatha. It's been a tough ten days without conveyance of my own.”

“But Gautam, that Pulsar's heavy. Your arm's just healing,” objected Ganapathi.

“Thatha, your grandson's strong. My arm's fine. Don't worry.” By now Vimala was also standing beside Ganapathi, adding her silent plea.

Gautam looked at the two of them, trying to curb his smile. He almost succeeded, but his dimple gave him away. “What's this? Two strong people against one weakling just recovering from fracture. Not fair.” He grinned cheekily.

Vimala lifted her hand to box his ear.

“Gautam, no bike rides. Not for another week. Do you hear me?” She was gentle but firm.

“Patti, please.” Gautam got up to hug her close, trying to change her mind. She was tiny, barely reaching his chest, but tough to cross.

Ganapathi sat back to watch the clash of wills between his wife and grandson with a trace of mischief in his twinkling eyes.

“No, Gautam. You'll have to promise me. No bike riding for another week. Just seven days, Gautam,” this as he made a gesture of protest, “I'm not asking you to give it up for life.” She patted his cheek.

Gautam turned to look at Ganapathi who was hooting with glee. He pointed a finger at him and said, “You vile, old man, just watch it. I'll get my back on you soon.” An empty threat if there was one! He glared at Ganapathi without rancour. “And you, my dear Patti, you've too much power over my heart.” He dropped a loving kiss on her grey head. “You can get away with murder as far as I'm concerned. So, seven days it is, I promise.” He handed the bike keys to her, unable to cross her loving command.

“That's my darling,” smiled Vimala, her face alight with pride and joy. Her grandson of thirty years was still a child to her.

“Bye, you two. Do miss me for the day.” Gautam moved to his grandfather to kiss his baldpate. He couldn't control a grin as he recalled his conversation with Sangita.

“What's so funny?” asked Thatha, his eyes curious at the look of bliss on Gautam's face.

“Tell you some other time, you old man. Today,” he fixed a hard stare on Ganapathi's cherubic face. “I'm angry with you for you know what.” He waved at them before leaving the house for work.

Sangita's thoughts dogged him all the way to college. He pushed his thoughts away forcefully as he entered the college premises.

Gautam waited impatiently for the clock to strike 3.30 pm, when he could leave for physiotherapy. He usually stayed back for a couple of more hours to do corrections, reference work or teach students who needed special coaching. But that day, he left immediately after classes got over.

He paid off the auto-rickshaw driver to enter Trilok Hospital. Much to his disappointment, the reception area was crowded.

Sangita's eyes met his as he stood head and shoulders above the crowd. She had been on the lookout for him over the past fifteen minutes. She gave him a shy smile before gesturing him to go forward.

She gave him a piece of paper with his name on it and told him, “Eighth floor, the hall on the right. Ask for Ms. Vaijayanthi. She's the nurse in charge.”

Sangita caught the look of disappointment on Gautam's face as she turned away in a hurry to deal with the flood of people in front of her waiting to fill out forms and pay bills.

Gautam walked towards the lift and turned back to take a look at her to find Sangita staring in his direction. With a satisfied smile on his face, he waved to her cheerfully before entering the lift.

He was ready to undergo physiotherapy only because it was an opportunity to better his acquaintance with Sangita. Otherwise he was quite sure that he didn't need it. He mentally shrugged his shoulders as he realised that it was one evening wasted.

Not so it seemed. Half an hour later, Sangita entered the hall where Gautam was applying a molten wax pack to his arm, an impatient scowl on his face. The nurse Vaijayanthi, had beaten a hasty retreat once she realised that the patient was capable of managing by himself and had made it clear that he wanted to be left alone.

A beautiful smile lit Gautam's features on seeing Sangita, bringing the dimple into play much to her delight.

“Hi!” greeted Gautam while running his eyes over her from head to toe, taking his time studying her.

“Hello!” she replied in a breathless voice. The sight of his tall, handsome figure made her heart beat crazily. The dimple added speed to the erratic pace. The expression in his twinkling blue glance brought her heart to a standstill before it jerked back into action, lubdubbing away like never before. Sangita felt a sense of forbidden enchantment just looking at him. She took a couple of deep breaths to steady her nerves.

“How's it going?” She asked him softly, her eyes glowing.

Gautam shrugged. “Awright, I s'pose. Are you through for the day?” he asked.

Sangita looked at her wristwatch before replying. “Not quite yet. I finish at five.” “

Will you go out with me after that?” asked Gautam, his blue eyes compelling, “just for an hour or so. We'll have a drink somewhere and chat,” he smiled.

Sangita gave him a startled glance. Did he think she was easy game, a woman with loose morals, may be? She was confused. She realised that she couldn't blame him if he thought that. She had come looking for him. It wasn't part of her duty to run after patients. Though, she did visit people in the wards because she genuinely cared about them.

But there was absolutely no need for that in Gautam's case. She had gone to meet him just like that. She couldn't seem to keep away from him. The past week had moved by at a pace that would have made a snail proud of its speeding prowess.

When he walked in today, Sangita was terribly disappointed that she had been too busy. She and Rithika worked extra fast to complete their work. The moment she became free, Sangita walked to the lift without even pausing to think about what she was doing.

Gautam stood there watching the play of emotions on Sangita's face with interest. She looked gorgeous, he thought. “Was that a tough question?” he prompted softly.

Sangita gave herself a mental shake before responding to him, “What question?” She looked lost.

He sighed gently. “Will you go out with me after you're through here?” he repeated.

She was bewildered. Her heart screamed at her to say 'yes'. But a natural caution, a wariness of men and her parents' strict upbringing stopped her.

She shook her head. “No, Gautam.”

A frown gathered on his perfect features, “Why not?”

Now why had she ever believed that he'd let go of the matter at a simple 'no' from her? “Well,” Sangita thought on her feet, “Sandeep will be waiting for me.”

Gautam nodded amiably. “Oh yeah, how old did you say he was?”

Relieved, Sangita said, “Almost five years.”

“Who looks after him when you're at work? Do you send him to a day care?” Gautam was keen to know.

“My mother and sister-in-law manage between them. He attends kindergarten for a couple of hours every day.” Sangita was a proud mother.

“I'd like to meet Sandeep. Why don't we go pick him up and make an outing of it, all three of us?”

Her expression was comical in its horror. She shuddered as she imagined her mother's reaction. Radha would raise hell if she even had an inkling that Sangita was talking to a strange, young man.

But Gautam hadn't seemed like a stranger even when she met him for the first time. She had vibed well with him right from the beginning. But what kind of a relationship could they have? Sangita had no answer to that.

She didn't give a damn about the future. This was here, now. He was here and so was she. She didn't want the precious moment to be wasted away. But going out with him wasn't probable. Sangita wouldn't dream of lying to her parents. And they would never accept the idea.

She gave Gautam a pathetic look as he said, “Sangita, you haven't answered me.”

“Just forget it, Gautam. It's not possible.”

He was puzzled. “Why not?”

How would she tell this gentleman who was from a totally different background that her parents would suffer a heart attack if they ever heard that a man had asked their widowed daughter out on a date! Sangita quickly defended them mentally. They were just different. It did take all kinds of people to make the world.

Sangita was confused. She didn't know how to make him understand. She opted to take the easy way out.

“I've a lot of house work to catch up with, Gautam. It won't be possible,” she said, her fingers crossed behind her back.

“May be tomorrow then?” He stared at her intently, his gaze compelling her to agree.

Gautam looked at Sangita as her pearly white teeth bit into her luscious lower lip, her expression flustered. He was hard put to not kiss her, then and there.

She looked so beautiful and innocent, so...untouched. Yeah, that's what was puzzling him since the moment he saw her. She appeared untouched, this mother of a five-year-old boy. He was curious to know what kind of a relationship she had shared with her husband.

Sangita decided to come clean and explain the situation to Gautam. That'd be the best thing to do. Otherwise, he would persist in asking her out every day, while she ran out of excuses.

“Gautam,” he turned to look at her face, giving her his complete attention, dropping the pretence at applying the wax pack. He liked the way his name rolled off her tongue, the tongue which peeped out to wet her suddenly dry lips. Gautam felt his body tighten in response.

“Tell me.”

Sangita looked down at the marble floor. She didn't have the strength to meet the intensity of his gaze.

“Let's forget the idea of going out together, Gautam. It won't be possible as my parents would never approve of it.”

“But what have your parents got to do with it? It's for you and me to decide.” Gautam couldn't relate to her explanation.

“I live with my parents, Gautam, under their roof. I have to live my life by their rules. They'll never approve of my going out with a strange man.”

“You mean they'll worry that I may be a womaniser or a fraud. Is that it? Let me take you home then. I'm quite confident that I can convince them that I'm genuine.” Gautam was 'logic' personified.

Sangita didn't know whether to laugh or cry. She had no idea how to explain to Gautam that her parents were extremely orthodox. She wondered how to make him understand that she would become an object of gossip if she went out with him for an evening and consequently hurt her parents. It wasn't as if everyone in Madras lived by these rules. But her parents lived their lives that way. And she could never betray them.

She looked at Gautam pleadingly. “Please try to understand, Gautam. It's not like that. I can't go out with you.”

“Can't or won't?” There was a trace of anger in his voice.

She felt hurt by this show of temper. But then, she had given him reason for it. She felt defeated. The whole thing was a wasted exercise, anyway. They will be going their separate ways in another week. Sangita almost gasped out aloud at the emptiness that invaded her heart at this thought. She closed her eyes to hide the pain in them.

“You may think what you like, Gautam,” her voice came in a whisper.

“Your answer's final?” There was frustration and fury in Gautam's voice as he eyed her angrily. No woman had refused him quite so vehemently.

She nodded her head before turning away.

“Sangita,” Gautam's hand on her shoulder stopped her in her track. She was glad that they were alone in the hall. “Is it me? You don't want to go out with me, is that the problem?”

Sangita gave him a bitter smile. How she wished that was the issue. It had taken her just two minutes to tell Dr. Sukumar to go to hell. But Gautam was a different cup of tea. “Please, Gautam. Leave me alone,” she begged, her large eyes pleading with his.

“Okay. Let's say that I do take you at your word and leave you alone. Would that make you happy?” Gautam watched her intently, his blue eyes hard and searching.

Shock hit her, her eyes shadowing with distress as she couldn't give him an answer.

Gautam raised his hand to run a finger down her petal-soft cheek. Sangita jerked her head away from his caress.

“Sangita,” his persistent voice whispered into her ear, his breath disturbing the tendrils of hair that had escaped the knot. “Please don't deny us this chance to get to know each other. That's all I'm asking. A chance to know you better. Is that too much?”

His whispered plea was extremely persuasive. But Sangita was wary of his touch and tried to put some distance between them only to have him move closer. His nearness scrambled her brain. He took her silence for consent. “So I take it that we're going out,” he declared, feeling triumphant.

A confused frown marred Sangita's forehead as she tried to grapple with reality. She took a couple of seconds to grasp the meaning of his words. “No, Gautam.”

“No?” his anger was worse this time. His body jerked straight. He glared at her, his sparkling eyes a turbulent blue.

“Gautam, please try to understand my situation. I'm answerable to my parents as I told you earlier and I know for sure that they'll never approve. Can't we just...”

“What? Can't we just what?” Gautam didn't have to raise his voice for her to hear the ferocity in it.

Her chocolate eyes begged him not to be angry with her. “Can't we just be friends?”

He looked at her incredulously, “Friends? But we need to get to know one another for that. And you can't spare the time.” He turned away, his stance stiff with rejection.

“Gautam, please.” She placed a hand on his arm appealingly. She didn't know what she was pleading for. But she didn't want Gautam to walk away from her life.

He caught her hand on his arm and held it. His thumb rubbed gently against her palm, sending a tremor through her whole body. All the anger drained from his mind as he looked into her melting gaze.

“I s'pose we put the idea on hold for the time being,” he said. Catching the look of relief on her face, he continued, “but not forever. I intend to get to know you and your son. No force on earth can stop me now that I know that you aren't averse to the idea.” He paused to raise her hand to his lips, his blue gaze holding hers with intensity, daring her to look away. “Not your parents or any other member of your family,” he concluded. Sangita fought against the feeling of pleasure that stole through her as she tugged at her hand.

He let go of her hand to touch her cheek in a fleeting caress. Sangita's eyes automatically closed with delight. “Sleep over that, Sangita,” his voice was a soft stroke in her ear, “I'll see you tomorrow.” Gautam raised two fingers in a salute before walking out.

Sangita curbed the urge to rush after him. She wanted to squeeze out as much time with him as possible. She walked slowly to the lift. To her surprise and joy, Gautam was waiting for her there, leaning against the wall, his arms folded against his wide chest, a smile on his face. They stepped into the lift that had arrived, as if on cue.

He kept looking at Sangita, not getting enough of her. She returned his bold gaze with a shy one of her own.

“Can I call you sometime at home? Just to chat. I'm sure your parents wouldn't object to that...”

Gautam could see her smile disintegrating in front of his eyes. He wondered what he had said now. She shook her head. She felt rather stupid going on about her parents' objections. It made them sound like the villains they were not. They just thought differently.

He sighed in frustration. “Awright. Lemme give you my cell number. You call me when you can.” He lifted her left hand and taking a pen out of his shirt pocket, wrote out his mobile number across her palm. She stared at it unseeingly before raising her head to look at him. “Please, Sangita.”

She gave him a small nod before stepping out of the lift.

Sangita was distracted as she packed her bag to leave for the day. It was pure reflex that got her into the correct bus. The conductor had to call out twice to catch her attention to purchase a ticket.

It didn't require two guesses to know in which direction Sangita's thoughts lay. She seemed to have no control over the way her mind insisted on thinking about Gautam. She had made an effort to erase his image from her mind a few days ago only to realise that it was a wasted exercise. It appeared that Gautam had decided to take up permanent residence behind her eyelids.

It was too strange an experience for her. She had been engaged to Giridhar at the tender age of eighteen. Even then, when she still had her dreams intact, she hadn't been so distracted by the thoughts of her fiancé.

But Gautam seemed to take up all of her attention without any effort. She kept replaying the conversation between them at the Physio lab. A small smile lit her features. She couldn't wait to get back home to share her thoughts with her sister-in-law. Only she would see the funny side of the situation.

Sangita looked down at her left palm where Gautam had scribbled his cell number. Her smile widened. Did he seriously believe that she would call him? 'But again why not?' asked a voice inside her head.

A tiny frown formed on Sangita's forehead. All this long she had been sure that she didn't want to cross her parents' strictures. But suddenly a part of her seemed to think otherwise.

Sangita recalled the kiss he had placed on her right palm. Sudden heat rose up from her neck to redden her face. She gave a surreptitious look around her to check whether anyone had noticed. Thank God everyone was busy in their own world. What had prompted Gautam to kiss her like that? Her palm tingled at the contact with his lips. Where was the alarm that usually sprang within her when a man came too close?

She set to analyse her rebellious thoughts as the bus reached her stop. She got off and took the longer way home as she had a lot on her mind.

Why this sudden need to befriend a man, a stranger at that? She was close to both Rekha and Rithika. She had a loving son and lived within the security of a joint family. She was also clear that she would never marry again.

So, where did that leave her as far as Gautam was concerned? She couldn't believe that it was physical attraction since she knew how lacking in passion she was. She had simply hated the physical side of marriage. Sangita shuddered as she recalled the times she had had to endure sex with her husband. She paled at the thoughts crowding her mind, even after all these years.

Getting back to Gautam, she knew it wasn't physical attraction, though he was extremely appealing, physically. Sangita recalled their first meeting and remembered thinking that he was almost beautiful. It was a surprise that he was unattached.

His blue eyes shone with intelligence and along with his dimple, fascinated Sangita no end. But where was this magnetism going to land her? She was impressed by the way he had reacted when she told him of her being a widow. Even learning that she was a mother hadn't stopped him from wanting to get to know her.

But...but it was impossible for her to go out with him. He didn't even begin to understand her conventional parents. Their families and their upbringing were so different.

And what was going to happen a few weeks later after he stopped coming to the hospital? Could they continue being friends? What would her parents and relatives have to say? She could almost hear Gautam's mocking voice telling her, 'But it's your life. What do they have to do with it?'

'Very true,' said the rebellious part of her mind.

What did the same parents and relatives know about her needs? Where had they been when she had been suffering a terrible life with Giridhar? Had anyone wanted to even hear that she had been going through hell living in the same house as that demon who had called himself her husband? Her parents had wanted her to have a happy life with Giridhar. So they had presumed that she was thrilled to bits in the role of his wife. The couple of times she had tried telling them, they had brushed away her protests and put it down to her lack of maturity.

Even then, it had been her lack of maturity that was at fault. There was nothing wrong with Giridhar. No way. How could a man ever be wrong? Sangita's face twisted in a bitter smile. Her eyes burned with unshed tears.

She wouldn't cry. She had promised herself never to cry on the day God had blessed her with the death of her husband. It pleased the same parents and neighbours to think that she was too heartbroken to shed tears and Sangita never bothered to correct them considering the futility of such an effort.

Her thoughts had gone around a full circle and reached Gautam once again. She suddenly remembered his touch on her cheek. She raised a hand to trail her fingers over the spot, which still seemed to tingle. Her lips parted in a smile of forbidden pleasure. Her reflexes had persuaded her to move away immediately even though she had liked his touch; feather light and non-threatening. It seemed set on soothing her jangled nerves and had succeeded to some extent.

One thing became obvious in the whole set of frayed thoughts. She came to the conclusion that she'd definitely make an effort to befriend Gautam.

Sangita reached home to open the gate as Sandeep rushed into her arms. She hugged her son tightly before placing a loving kiss on his forehead, pushing aside the unruly locks of hair from his face.

“Hi, darling!”

“Hi, Mummy!” He gave her a toothy grin before hugging her back.

“How was school today?” Sandeep hopped, skipped and jumped holding his mother's hand, Ramya walking sedately on the other side as they went into the house.

“'Kay. Rahul and I had a fight. I won, of course.” He raised his hand to show the scrape on his knuckles.

“Sandeep, you didn't?” admonished Sangita.

“Aww, Mom, he hit me first. Ask the teacher if you want,” Sandeep defended himself.

“Yes, Sangita Athai, Rahul hit Sandeep first,” Ramya supported her cousin loyally, pausing to remove her thumb from her mouth.

“How do you know?” Sangita asked her niece.

“I was there. It happened in the inter...inter...” the word was too big for the four-year-old.

“Interval, silly,” prompted the 'big man'.

“Sandeep, how many times have I said that you shouldn't fight with the other children?” asked Sangita, looking at her son's defiant face.

“You don't want me to take a beating lying down, do you?” he asked his mother logically.

“Hmm...I suppose you had no choice. Be more careful next time.”

“Okay, Mom,” came the cheerful reply. “Can we go to the park today?” Sandeep asked in the same breath.

“Not today, sweetheart. Tomorrow, I promise. Today, mummy's too tired.” Sangita felt drained after the emotional upheaval caused by her racing thoughts.

“Shall we play Trade then?” Sandeep was persistent.

“Yeah, after I help Rekha Maami with dinner.”

7

Gautam reached home to immediately change into a pair of shorts and tank top before taking Butterscotch for a run along the beach, much to the dog's delight. The Labrador had missed his master.

Gautam untied the leash from the dog's collar, letting him roam freely along the coast chasing the tiny crabs that ran all over. “Woof, woof,” barked Butterscotch in rapture as Gautam lifted a piece of driftwood and threw it far ahead. Butterscotch ran after it, thrilled as Gautam jogged after him. Man and dog spent the next hour sprinting along the shoreline dodging the waves and returned home, tired and happy.

He went upstairs to take a shower before coming down to spend time with his grandparents.

Vimala brought a tall glass of chilled lemonade for him.

“Thanks, Patti,” he kissed her on her cheek before sprawling on the comfortable sofa, his legs stretched out in front of him.

“So, how was your day?” asked Ganapathi, changing channels on TV, not finding any show that caught his interest.

“The usual,” sighed Gautam. Ganapathi turned to look at him, startled at the brief answer. The question usually triggered forth a spate as he elaborated on the lessons he had taught that day, his students' antics and so on.

Gautam turned to catch Ganapathi's inquisitive gaze and controlled the sigh that was trying to escape his chest.

“Shall we play a round of chess, Thatha?” he asked to distract the older man. “Unless Patti is free and we can play rummy,” he looked at Vimala enquiringly.

“Not me,” replied Vimala. “At least not now, maybe later.”

“Chess it is,” said Gautam before setting up a table in front of Ganapathi's recliner and arranging the board.

“So what's bothering you, my boy?” asked Ganapathi as he helped his grandson set the board.

“Why? Nothin' Thatha,” said Gautam, avoiding his grandfather's sharp gaze.

“Well, if you don't want to tell your old Thatha...” Ganapathi drawled, looking at Gautam expectantly.

The sigh that Gautam was holding back with difficulty rose to the surface and came out in a whoosh.

The old man's eyebrows rose in question. “So, tell me, my dear grandson, who is she?”

Gautam's face puckered into a scowl. “Who's who?”

“The one who's made you preoccupied.”

Gautam shrugged. “I don' know what you're talkin' about.” He glared at his grandfather.

Ganapathi winked at his grandson. “Gautam, your Thatha had to cross thirty before he turned eighty.”

“So?”

“So, tell me who this lady is, the one who's making you sigh a dozen times a minute,” Ganapathi was tenacious.

“Thatha, let me compliment you on your fantastic and extremely wild imagination,” Gautam drawled sarcastically, hoping to sidetrack his grandfather.

The old eyes twinkled. “Thank you,” he said in a soft voice, his mischievous, dark eyes fixed on the younger man's turbulent, blue ones. Although Gautam physically resembled his father Alistair, he reminded Ganapathi so much of his adorable Swetha. Every gesture of his and every nuance of his expression was so much like his daughter.

He didn't say anything after that but Gautam could feel his questioning gaze on him as the two of them pretended to concentrate on the chessboard.

Gautam sighed yet again much to his grandfather's amusement.

“Okay,” said Gautam, pushing the coins abruptly into their plastic container. He got up to sit close to his grandfather on the arm of the recliner, his arm going around the slightly stooped shoulders. “Tell me, what do you wanna know?” he asked.

Ganapathi turned to look over his shoulder at his handsome grandson and gave him a loving smile. “Who's this girl who has taken over your mind to the point of distraction?”

“Sangita.” Ganapathi watched in awe as Gautam's blue gaze turned dreamy. “She's simply beautiful.” He looked down at Ganapathi's interested face. “I don't quite believe in love at first sight, Thatha, but...” Gautam scowled ferociously at the other man's grin, “now what's it?” he asked his naughty grandfather.

“You sound so much like your mother. Swetha uttered exactly the same words after she met your father for the first time.” Ganapathi's gaze was reminiscent as he recalled the conversation he had had with his daughter thirty-six years ago. “She was a goner right from the start,” he smiled.

“But, Thatha, this is quite different. Listen me out. I haven't fallen in love...” Gautam sounded a trifle desperate.

“No?” the salt-and-pepper eyebrows went up in gentle mockery.

Gautam got off the arm of the recliner and pushing his hands into the pockets of his shorts, stood towering over his grandfather, his legs apart. His blue eyes sparked with temper. “That's it now, you old man. I don' plan to tell you anythin'. I don' think you wanna listen to anythin' properly. You,” he poked a hard finger into Ganapathi's chest, frowning fiercely as the older man's expression turned even more mischievous, “already think you know everythin'. So be it. I am tellin' you nothin'.” His American accent became more pronounced as he rapidly lost his cool.

Ganapathi guffawed, looking up at his grandson with an adoring expression on his face. “Caught it bad, have you?”

Vimala walked in just then and looked askance at her grandson's belligerent stance and her husband's obvious amusement. She went and stood next to the younger man in silent support, her hand on his shoulder.

“Why are you troubling the poor boy so? He's had a long day at work and then the stint at physiotherapy while you have been lazing around the house all day,” Vimala's concern was genuine.

“'Xactly, Patti. I don' quite know how you manage him the whole day,” said Gautam, turning the tables on Ganapathi, now that he had his grandmother to advocate his cause.

“Vimala, you haven't taken into account the time he spent with Sangita.” Ganapathi was looking from one face to the other, trying to gauge their reactions.

Gautam's gaze promised murder while Vimala's turned curious.

“Sangita?” she first looked at Ganapathi before turning towards her pet grandson.

Gautam looked to the ceiling for guidance before giving his grandfather a killing glance, which bounced off the old man. Then he turned to his grandmother. “Patti,” he sighed, “It's a long story. I'll tell you some other time. Isn't dinner ready yet? I'm famished.”

Vimala took pity on his weary face and decided to drop the subject. “Yes dear, dinner's ready. Come along.”

That his mobile phone didn't ring that night only worsened Gautam's disposition.

The next evening found Gautam walking into Trilok Hospital with thunder on his face. He had had a terrible day, not enjoying any of his classes as he usually did. He rightly placed the blame on Sangita who tormented his thoughts while awake and his dreams when asleep.

The object of his thoughts and dreams looked up eagerly from her desk to greet him, only to be ignored royally. She was puzzled at his behaviour. Sangita tried her best to catch his eye to no avail. She was way too shy to call out to him as she didn't want to attract undue attention in the crowded reception. But more than anything else, it was the fear of rejection that stopped her.

Gautam went directly to the eighth floor to vent his fury on the physiotherapy equipment. He waited for Sangita to turn up so that he could give her a piece of his mind. Only she didn't, much to his increasing frustration. He contacted the reception through the intercom in the Physiotherapy lab. Luckily for him, Rithika answered.

“Hi, Rithika!” said Gautam, making an effort to be pleasant.

“Hi, Thunderbolt!” smiled Rithika. Gautam could sense the laughter in her voice and a slow answering smile lit his features.

“That bad, huh?”

“Worse. So tell me, want to talk to...”

“No.” Gautam's negative answer was firm. “I need your help.”

“Shoot.”

“I do appreciate a woman of few words,” complimented Gautam.

“Oh, thank you!”

“Is there a free room in the damned hospital where you know...”

“I get you.” Normally, Rithika wouldn't have even considered it. But she knew that Gautam was the Chairman's grandson and hence was ready to risk it. “Can you give me two minutes and call back?”

“Good girl. And thanks, Rithika. I owe you one.”

Gautam disconnected the line and paced impatiently up and down the hall. By now the hospital grapevine had spread the news of Gautam Sinclair's identity. Ms. Vaijayanthi opted to steer clear of the prowling tiger's path while keeping an eye open for trouble.

Gautam lifted the receiver in exactly two minutes to call reception once again.

“Hello, is that you, my friend?” asked Rithika on the other end.

“Yeah.”

“Room four-O-five is free. I've the keys ready for you. Anything else?”

“How busy are you girls?”

“Not very. I can manage without my partner for a while.”

“Great, just great.” He thanked Rithika charmingly and promising to be down in a few minutes, disconnected the line. He nodded curtly to Ms. Vaijayanthi before going down.

A startled Sangita looked up at the fuming figure that had suddenly materialised in front of her.

“Come with me.” Gautam was used to having his orders followed immediately. Sangita was mesmerised by the expression in the blue gaze and was no exception to falling in with his wishes. She stepped out from behind her desk, looking at Rithika enquiringly. The other girl gave her the 'thumbs up' and winked at Gautam behind Sangita's back. Gautam returned the wink with a tense smile. His grandfather had been right. He had indeed 'caught it bad'.

Sangita was startled to find herself in Room 405 as Gautam closed the door carefully and locked it behind him.

But neither the stormy expression on Gautam's face nor the locked door managed to create fear in Sangita. She gave him a tentative smile that he answered with a ferocious scowl.

“Gautam, what's it?” her voice was soft.

He didn't reply but stood in front of her in a threatening posture, his arms folded against his massive chest, continuing to glare at her. What did she take him for?

Sangita looked at his tense face. He was dressed in a white open-necked shirt and dark blue, fitted trousers. Even in the semiformal attire he managed to give the impression of being in command. Sangita's gaze searched his face once again. Something was eating into him. He was so obviously angry. That he might be irritated with her suddenly struck Sangita. Yeah, that was very much a possibility. He had not even said, 'Hi!' to her when he walked into the hospital. Sangita added two and two and got an exact four.

“You're angry,” she declared.

“Congratulations, my dear Sangita, on your observation skills.” The answering growl was heavily sarcastic.

She stared at him. Instead of the fear she expected, excitement bubbled up from the pit of her stomach to spread all over her body creating a mild tremor. Her eyes shone with it. Her pulse rate jumped.

“You're sulking,” she grinned. She was surprised at her own audacity. He stared at her grinning face. He had caught the subtle vibrations of excitement emanating from her and his body responded with a 'zing'. Gautam tried hard to remain angry but he was fighting a losing battle. He so wanted to shake her for ignoring him last evening.

“Not sulking, exactly,” his voice was supposed to be low and menacing. Gautam was disgusted to hear the purr of a tomcat trying to suck up to his mistress. 'Fool,' he berated himself.

She shrugged her slim shoulders. “Maybe not. But you were angry.”

He noted the past tense and realised that even she was aware that he wasn't angry any more. 'Ineffective idiot,' he muttered to himself, before getting to the point. “Why didn't you call me yesterday?” he snarled, his temper building up once again as he recollected his disappointment.

Her surprised eyes clashed with his tempestuous ones. Sangita was lost for an answer. He had given her his mobile number. But it hadn't struck her that he wanted her to call him that very evening. The number was supposed to be a reference for a vague future. She looked at him askance. “Did you expect me to?”

Small blue flames leapt from his eyes. His hands clenched into fists as he controlled a strong desire to throttle her. “Just what do you take me for?” His voice softened in inverse proportion to his rising temper. “I did give you my number, didn't I? Wouldn't that suggest that I expected your call?”

Sangita studied his face. Was it hurt at the very back of his eyes, hidden way behind the wall of temper? She gave herself a mental shake. Who was she kidding? He was a man, after all.

“Well, Gautam, I did make a note of the number. Only I didn't think...”

“Thanks for being so considerate,” he interrupted sarcastically. He stared at her in a haze of fury. What was it about this lady that made him so emotionally volatile? He had always had a temper, but he had total command over it. He prided himself on the tight lid he had over his emotions. But his control seemed to go haywire in the presence of this young woman.

“But Gautam,” Sangita said in a shocked voice, “I do have other things to do. I live in a house full of people. I've a son to look after, dinner to cook beside other minor things, which take up a lot of time. Calling you was definitely not on top of the list.”

'Liar,' her heart screamed; 'coward,' echoed her mind. She had wanted nothing more than to call him at the first instance, if only to hear his voice. But she had no guts. What if someone else at home had picked up the other line and heard her speak to a stranger? What if someone had walked in, in the middle of the conversation? Her slight body shuddered as she had visualised the consequences. Cowardice had won, hands down.

Hurt and anger splintered whatever restraint Gautam had. The previous evening, he had done nothing but think of this woman with every breath he drew and here she was, declaring that she had neither had the time nor the inclination to call him. He saw red. He rushed at her, feeling excessively violent. He pinned her between the wall and his hard frame, glaring down at her, his blue eyes flaming with rage. Only his body played traitor, the rage converting to desire as it came into contact with her soft one. His fingers bit into her shoulders as Sangita winced in pain. She looked up at him beseechingly, “Gautam.”

Her silky whisper achieved the wonder that nothing had managed to accomplish before. His animosity disappeared as he looked down at the disturbed brown gaze and his biting fingers softened into a caress.

“Sangita.” He buried his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling deeply, feeling drugged by the combination of a mild perfume and feminine body odour. His masculine frame shook as he fought for control, his lips pressed against the pulse beating wildly at her throat.

She tried to push away the panic that promised to choke her at what she perceived as physical assault. 'Gautam wouldn't hurt her,' her mind screamed. But her abused body rejected his hug violently.

Gautam was blissfully unaware of the turmoil in Sangita's mind as he had her exactly where he wanted, in his arms. His lips trailed hot, wet kisses along her jaw line, while whispering sweet nothings. His hands slid down from her shoulders to her waist to pull her closer into his embrace. She raised her hands and placed them on his chest to push him away. But her hands stilled as they felt the violent beat of his heart through the thin fabric of his shirt. Her eyes were tightly closed, partly in dread and partly from excitement. She didn't understand why she moved her head this way and that—whether to avoid Gautam's marauding lips or to accommodate them. New and terrifying sensations flooded her body.

Gautam's lips pressed against Sangita's soft cheek in an adoring kiss. It felt hot against his lips. Dr. Sukumar had called her 'frigid'. The thought flashed through his mind. He couldn't give a damn; the woman in his arms was anything but cold.

He explored every inch of Sangita's face with his lips and finally reached her rosyred ones.

He didn't know what hit him the next second as he braced himself from a fall against the cot. He wouldn't have believed that this slender woman could pack such a powerful punch. She had pushed him bodily, all 190 pounds of him, away from her. One minute he had been locked to her in a passionate embrace and the next he found himself almost floored, literally.

Sangita didn't know she had it in her either. One part of her had been blissfully enjoying his passionate kisses. But another, more cautious part of her, had been slowly simmering under the surface. That part of her had never forgotten the violation her body had undergone. The moment his lips touched hers, this part of her automatically switched on to 'self-defence' mode. This man wasn't her husband. There was no need for her to subjugate to his will. He had no power over her. He could never blackmail her emotionally. This gave Sangita the strength to wrench from him and push him with both her hands. Even she was surprised that he fell back so easily. But then, Gautam had been at his weakest, in the throes of passion, the kind he'd never felt before.

“How dare you?” her voice was a fierce whisper. Gautam forgot to be angry as he saw the hurt and agitation in her eyes that were swimming in unshed tears. He was sorry if that was what his kisses had done to her. “How dare you kiss me? You… you male animal!” Sangita's chest heaved violently as her breath came in gasps. Her upper lip was beaded with sweat and the hand that rubbed against her lips was trembling uncontrollably.

“Sangita!” He took a step towards her.

“No, don't come anywhere near me.” Her eyes rolled in fear. She had moved several steps away from him.

“Sangita,” said Gautam gently, as he would try to calm a frightened animal. “Calm down, darling. I'll ne'er hurt you,” he promised.

She shook her head vigorously, “It's but natural for a man to hurt a woman. It's automatic. I don't blame you for what you are. You are, after all, a man,” she said bitterly.

“Sangita, what's this nonsense you're talkin'? I don't understand you. I only want to kiss you and love you. I'll never hurt you,” he repeated.

“But you don't understand. I hate to be kissed. I don't like any man's touch. I'm not normal. I'm frigid.” Her voice broke on the last sentence. She couldn't remember the number of times she had been called that, first by her husband and later on by the likes of Dr. Sukumar. For a minute there she had enjoyed being in Gautam's arms and was almost convinced she was normal. Obviously not!

“Sangita,” he took another step towards her only to have her move to the furthest corner of the room. He sighed impatiently. “Sangita, stop where you are,” he ordered firmly. “Do you or don't you believe that I'll never harm you?” he asked in a pacifying tone.

Her eyes searched his face thoroughly, unsure of what to believe. She looked at his eyes for a while before nodding her head in affirmation. He could see that her body was still shaking, as if from a high fever.

“Then let me come near you, Sangita,” he requested in a pleading voice, moving towards her, one step at a time.

Gautam was terribly sorry to see her pale, pinched face and tearful eyes. He put out his hand towards her, his blue eyes compelling her to trust him.

“Let me just hold you, darling. I won't do anything you don't want me to do. Let me hug you,” he requested gently, unable to bear the pain on her face.

Sangita continued to look at Gautam's face searchingly. How she wished she could trust him. She had always suffered her pain alone. How she wished that she had someone who'd shoulder the burden of her life. She could see no light nor hope for the future. Her brothers were too involved in their own lives. She trembled as she recalled her mother's whining voice complaining on the unfairness of Giridhar's death. She shuddered violently.

“Sangita,” he curbed the urge to lift a hand to wipe the tear that had stolen down her left cheek despite the tight lid she kept over her emotions. “Come to me, darling.” Gautam opened his arms wide, standing where he was.

She looked at him pathetically, a battle raging within her. Her mind and body fought against her heart that wanted to trust him. After a vicious tug of war, her heart won as Sangita flung herself into Gautam's arms, her face buried in his chest.

His arms came around to hold her firmly as he rubbed his chin against her head. He felt a thrill of joy steal through him as he realised that she had put her trust in him after an immense struggle. His hand rubbed against her back, pacifying her.

Sangita looked at Gautam a few minutes later, her face calmer. As he bent his head to kiss her again, she pressed a hand against his lips, shaking her head. “No, Gautam.”

He sighed, impatient. “But...”

“Please.” Sangita's voice was a soft plea. Her gaze begged him to understand. “I don't want you to kiss me.”

“Why not?” A frown had gathered between his golden eyebrows.

“Because I don't like being kissed, that's why,” she told him in no uncertain terms.

Gautam felt that he knew better. “But just now you...”

“Just now was a mistake. I'm shocked at myself. I'm sorry that I misled you.” Sangita's eyes were downcast, unable to meet his intense gaze.

“Sangita.” He was insistent, his hand under her chin, forcing her head up. She looked up at him, her gaze disturbed.

His finger moved on her left cheek, tracing the soft skin as he couldn't help himself. “Will you call me today on my cell?” he asked.

“Let me see,” Sangita's reply was non-committal, “I can't promise.”

He removed his arms from around her with great reluctance. He didn't want the rest of the hospital to send out a search party for their missing receptionist. They had been holed up in the room for more than ten minutes.

She felt bereft when he let go of her. Was she mad? She wondered; or may be a glutton for punishment?

Gautam opened the locked door and let her go first. He waited for a couple of minutes before leaving the room, locking the door carefully behind him after making sure that there was no hospital staff in the vicinity.

He went to the reception where Sangita was back at her desk working diligently on her computer. Only the trace of colour on her cheeks acknowledged his presence.

Gautam decided not to bother her any more for the day and turning to Rithika, slid the key on her desk. He gave her a broad grin that split his face and said, “Thank you, my dear friend in need. What will it be? An ice-cream or...”

“You're welcome, Gautam. And thanks, I'll collect my dues when the right time comes,” Rithika smiled in reply. She was too happy to see Sangita's blushing face after their rendezvous.

“Hey, that's sounds ominous,” teased Gautam.

Rithika laughed. “Hmm. Beware!”

“Well, if you're sure,” said Gautam, looking at Sangita from the corner of his eyes. She was typing some information into her computer quite furiously, her eyes glued to the matter beside her monitor.

What's with these two? Sangita wondered. Their friendship seemed so easy and uncomplicated. While...

“Hello, Mr. Sinclair,” bellowed Dr. Sukumar as he walked into the hospital for his evening shift. He pumped the younger man's hand with enthusiasm, while Gautam's only response was a tight smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

That didn't stop the doctor. “How are you? You're looking fit,” he answered his own question. “And how is Mr. Ganapathi? You must give my regards to him,” he gushed.

Gautam pointedly looked at the hospital clock. Dr. Sukumar squirmed and said, “I'd better run. I don't want to be late for my first appointment.” It didn't even strike him that Gautam could have been looking at the clock for his own sake and not to rebuke the doctor.

Gautam's face broke into a sly smile as he watched the doctor move in a half-run towards the lift. “Egotistic fool,” he muttered under his breath. Rithika grinned at him in complete agreement.

But Sangita wasn't listening to him. Her curiosity had been tickled when Dr. Sukumar had mentioned Mr. Ganapathi's name. “Which Mr. Ganapathi was Dr. Sukumar asking you about?” she asked Gautam.

“My grandfather.”

Sangita's eyes widened in surprise. “Are we talking about the Chairman of this hospital's trust?”“The very same.”

“No wonder Dr. Sukumar was gushing all over...” Sangita clamped her hand over her wayward mouth. Her glance was apologetic. “I'm sorry. That was mean.”

“Not at all, darlin'. You got that in a nutshell,” grinned Gautam.

“I didn't know Ganapathi Uncle was your grandfather. He and my father are well acquainted. They meet at the temple almost every day. In fact, it was your grandfather who got me this job,” said Sangita.

Gautam digested this information and stored it away for future reference. “It's a small world, isn't it?” he asked, his eyes roving over her beautiful face.

She gave him a small nod before turning back to her work shyly.

“Well then, ladies, time to go. See you both soon.” He gave a mock salute to Sangita before waving to Rithika and stepping out of the hospital.

Rithika smiled in his wake before turning to her dear friend. “So?”

“So, nothing.” But her blushing face told its own story. Rithika's eyebrows rose above in an arch. “Well, he's a great guy, I suppose.”

“You suppose?” Rithika asked with teasing smile.

Sangita looked at Rithika, her eyes shining. “Alright then, he is.”

8

Sangita wasn't surprised to find that she was thinking about Gautam all the way home. She didn't seem to be doing much else these days. It looked as if it had become as natural to her as breathing. She had to call him that day, she promised herself.

She went home to find Sandeep and Ramya playing in the small garden. She thought for a minute before an idea struck her. Her heart beat hard as she opened the gate into the compound.

“Mummy,” shrieked Sandeep as he hurled himself into her arms, hugging her tightly.

“Athai,” echoed Ramya as she hugged her aunt from behind.

Sangita laughingly pulled her niece in front of her and went on her haunches to hug the two of them. She gave them each a kiss on their soft cheeks and said, “I've a surprise. Who can guess what it is?”

“Ice-cream.”

“Pepsi.”

Sangita shook her head negatively to both the answers.

“A new game?” asked Sandeep.

“Circus,” added Ramya, not to be left behind.

This also brought a shake of her head much to the children's chagrin. But they were having too much fun to give up the guessing game.

“Hmm...a new dress?” asked Ramya.

“Don't be silly,” said her macho cousin. “Who wants a new dress? I think it's something else. Mummy?” he looked at her curiously.

Sangita watched her son's eyes light up in excitement. The dark brown eyes that were so like her own, shone brightly. “You brought a daddy?” he asked, his voice an excited whisper in her ear.

Sangita was flabbergasted. Where had he got such a frivolous idea! Speaking to the kids had calmed her down after the excitement of meeting Gautam. Her heart picked up at double pace now. The picture of a blue-eyed man flashed before her mental eye. She closed her eyes briefly as if to get the image out of her head, only to find the etching getting clearer as she shut them. Sangita opened her eyes as she felt a tug on her arm and a hesitant, “Mummy?”

“Yes, darling?”

“Have you brought a daddy?” asked Sandeep, his voice louder and firmer.

“Now who's being silly, Sandeep? Your daddy died,” declared Ramya, unaware of the cruelty in her statement.

Sangita looked from one child to the other, not knowing what to say. What had come over Sandeep? Why was he asking for a daddy after all these years? Had someone mentioned something at the nursery?

Suddenly Sangita remembered that her mother tended to lament his lack of a father at regular intervals. Kids tend to pick up on adult conversations inadvertently. That's what had happened, she presumed.

“Mummy?” Sandeep looked at his mother for reassurance. He ignored his young cousin's assertion.

“No, Sandeep,” said Sangita, her voice choked. She cleared her throat rapidly and repeated, “No, Sandeep,” more firmly.

The little boy tried valiantly to hold back his tears, in vain. He buried his face against his mother's shoulder to hide the large tears that rolled down his cheeks. He didn't want Ramya to see him crying.

Sangita became extremely disturbed. She looked around helplessly, before saying, “Ramya darling, why don't you run inside and tell mummy that I'm home? I'll just come along in two minutes.”

Ramya rushed in to do her aunt's bidding. Sangita rubbed her son's back, doing her best to console him. “Sandeep,” she called to him softly.

Tear-drenched eyes looked at her accusingly. “Why didn't you bring me a daddy?” he asked his mother angrily, brushing his hand across his face.

How could she explain to the five-year-old that 'daddies' weren't available in the market? Sangita took out a handkerchief to mop his face. He pushed away to demand, “Tell me.”

“Sandeep,” Sangita spoke in a soft tone of voice, trying to pacify him. She was also careful not to make any promise that she wouldn't be able to keep. “Listen to me, darling. You know that Daddy's no more. Why the sudden question?”

Soft hiccups shook the little boy's lean frame. He was quite tall for his age. “I know...Giri Daddy died...why don't you get me another one?” he asked her very reasonably.

Sangita found herself between a rock and a hard place. She wondered how to handle this new problem that had sprung up, out of the blue.

“Sandeep, I don't know about you, but I'm very hungry. I wonder what snack Rekha Maami has prepared.” Sangita tried to distract him with the change of subject. “I'm going...”

“Poori and potato curry,” came the prompt reply. Her tactics had worked.

“Oh good.” Sangita got up from her crouching position. “I'm going to eat first and then I plan to go to Children's Park. Whoever's interested can come along.” She started walking into the house, the invitation hanging in the air.

From the corner of her eye, Sangita noted that Sandeep's eyes had brightened as he skipped along beside her, “Can I and Ramya go with you?”

“Sandeep, it's 'Ramya and I',” corrected Sangita automatically.

“'Kay, Ramya and I,” repeated Sandeep impatiently. “Can we go with you?”

Sangita looked down at her son indulgently, pretending to consider his question seriously. Sandeep eyed her eagerly, the subject of 'daddy' forgotten for the time being. “I suppose I can take you both. Why don't you run along and tell Ramya? You both change into shorts.” She looked at her watch, “We'll leave in half an hour.”

“We can go on the sliding board and swing?”

“Yeah, sure and the see-saw too,” promised his mother, ruffling his hair.

“Yippee!” Sandeep ran fast, his arms spread out, pretending to be an aeroplane.

“Hi, Sangita.” Rekha greeting her sister-in-law with a smile on her face.

“Hello, Manni,” smiled Sangita in return. “I'm planning to take these brats to Children's Park. Is that okay with you?”

“Most definitely, my dear. Amma and Appa have gone to the temple. If you take the kids away, I'll be glad to have some time to myself,” Rekha smiled her pleasure.

“Dinner?” queried Sangita.

“Poori and potato curry should be heavy enough. We might have some thayir saadham after that. What do you think?”

“Perfect,” agreed Sangita, walking into the large and airy kitchen. “I'll only have some coffee now, Manni.” She was too nervous to eat anything.

Rekha looked at her sister-in-law curiously while handing her a cup of coffee, but refrained from passing a comment.

Sangita sat on a dining chair, sipping her coffee absentmindedly. The usual chatter was missing as she mentally geared herself up to make the inevitable phone call.

Rekha hovered around, saying nothing. It was obvious that a small tug-of-war was taking place inside Sangita and Rekha didn't want to distract her.

“Thanks, Manni. I think I'll go and change.” Sangita went up the staircase to the bedroom she shared with her son. Sandeep was just pulling on a pair of socks when she entered the room. His eyes shone with excitement at the treat in store.

“I'm ready, Mummy,” he announced. Sangita smiled as she adjusted the collar of his bright yellow T-shirt before combing his hair.

“Very good boy. Run along now and wait for Mummy. I'll be down by six.”

“'Kay.” The aeroplane took off once more to share the update with his cousin.

Sangita closed the bedroom door carefully and locked it. She went to the telephone extension beside her bed and lifted the receiver, a trifle nervous. She knew Gautam's cell number by heart. She dialled quickly before she changed her mind. She never paused to ponder over the strange compulsion to call him.

Gautam was stepping out of his shower when his cell rang. His heartbeat quickened. He just knew who it was! He pulled a towel around his waist before rushing to the cell on the desk in his bedroom. A string of profanities emitted from him as the mobile stopped ringing the moment he touched it. Damn! He checked the number. It was a land line number from Adyar where Sangita lived. Should he call her back? Better not, he thought, recalling the look of fear in her eyes.

He shook his head to himself while droplets of water fell down on the floor from his dripping hair. He tugged at his towel impatiently to rub it against his golden-brown locks.

Sangita sighed in frustration. Where was Gautam? Look what happened when she gathered her wits finally and made the call! She shook her head in disappointment. She opened her cupboard to take a set of salwar kameez and matching dupatta in the palest of grey. Her movements were dejected.

Why hadn't he answered the cell? Her eyes brightened. Maybe he had been in the toilet or shower? Sangita decided to try just one more time. She felt like an addict craving for her next fix.

Gautam was pulling on a pair of shorts when his cell rang again. He almost tripped over in his hurry to reach it. “Hello?” It was the same number.

“Hello, Gautam?” Sangita's voice was a husky whisper. He sagged against the divan as his heart pounded in excitement.

“Sangita!” he growled his pleasure, his voice gruff. “It's wonderful hearing from you.”

Sangita wiped the trickle of sweat running down her face. Now that she had made the call, she didn't know what to say. The idea that had appeared sensible earlier seemed foolish now. What to tell him? She smote her forehead in frustration.

“So, tell me, darlin', what do you plan to do this evening?” he asked, giving her the perfect opening.

She took a deep breath before jumping into what felt like the boxing ring. “Gautam,” her voice was breathless as if she had just completed the two hundred metres at the Olympics, “I'm planning to take the kids to Children's Park. Could you...I mean would you...I...Gautam...” Sangita cleared her throat delicately before making another attempt at wording herself clearly. “Gautam...”

“Would you like me to meet you there?” he took the words out of her mouth. “Most definitely 'yes'; I'd love to. Just tell me the time.”

Sangita felt a frisson of pure thrill dancing along her nerves at his enthusiastic response. “I plan to leave home by six. Should reach there in ten minutes. Will you meet us near the sliding board?”

“I'll meet you there for sure.”

“See you then.”

“Bye, darling. And Sangita,” Gautam added, “Thanks for thinking of me.”

She couldn't tell him that her motives were purely selfish. “Gautam...” Sangita hesitated, wondering how exactly to word the next sentence. “Please understand that our meeting's supposed to be by chance. I didn't call you.”

Just for a second Gautam felt anger at the subterfuge. He pushed it away and decided to take things as they came. He shrugged his wide, bare shoulders. Suddenly realising that Sangita couldn't see him, he said, “Not to worry, Sangita. Your secret's safe with me. See you then.”

He pulled on the first T-shirt he could lay his hands on and turned around to comb his hair in front of the dresser. He grimaced at his reflection. He looked as ragged as one of his own students. He pulled off his clothes in a hurry and wore a pair of black jeans and a forest-green T-shirt. Pulling on a pair of socks, he thrust his feet into his sneakers. He fumbled with the shoelaces as his hands trembled. He felt as nervous as a teenager on his first date. He lifted his belt and fitted it into the loops. He stopped midway to stuff his purse, cell phone and a fresh handkerchief into the many pockets of his jeans. Opening a drawer, he removed his large silver watch and clamped it on his left wrist while rushing out of his room. He completed buckling his belt and locking his watchstrap on the way down, whistling to Butterscotch.

Ganapathi sat back on his recliner to look at his grandson who was prancing about in nervous excitement. He gave up watching his favourite soap opera on TV to devote his attention to the real-life drama unfolding in front of him.

“Are you going somewhere?”

Gautam walked closer to Ganapathi before giving him an answer. He placed both hands on the arms of the recliner, and bending down to the old man, said, “Yes, Thatha, I'm goin' out.”

“With Butterscotch?” The old eyes twinkled merrily.

“With Butterscotch.”

“Are you sure that you want to take a gooseberry along?” Ganapathi had correctly guessed that Gautam was meeting Sangita. The younger man's body language was proof enough.

“Well, this gooseberry's company for a couple more from the other side,” Gautam answered cheekily.

“Tell me about Sangita,” ordered Ganapathi.

“Thatha,” Gautam sighed exaggeratedly, “I need to leave.”

“Where do you have to go?”

“Children's Park.”

“What time?”

“Are we playing twenty questions?” asked Gautam sarcastically. “I've been on many dates before, Thatha. You've ne'er been so curious,” he protested.

“Well, those times it was obvious that your interest was passing. Now that I know how serious you are...”“You do?”

Gautam's eyebrows almost touched his hairline.

“Of course I do. I...”

“Thatha, will it be too much to expect to be left alone? Leave me in peace, please.” Gautam requested his grandfather, his eyes spitting blue fire at the wicked, old face in front of him.

Ganapathi was enjoying himself too much to give up. “But Gautam,” he protested, “I'm only trying to be of help. Tell me what time you have to meet Sangita.” Ganapathi was persistent.

“6.20,” Gautam bit out impatiently.

“There's a lot of time. Come and sit down next to me,” Ganapathi patted the sofa near him, “and have a shot of brandy to calm your nerves,” he offered solicitously.

Gautam looked at his watch before accepting his grandfather's offer. Butterscotch came and lay down at his feet, thumping his tail rhythmically. “I'll take you out in the car in a short while, fella,” he promised his pet who stared up at his master adoringly.

“Now tell me about Sangita,” commanded Ganapathi.

“You're a persistent old man, aren't you?” grumbled Gautam affectionately. “I know, I know,” this as Ganapathi went to open his mouth to say something, “you only want to help.” Gautam grinned at Ganapathi cheekily before obliging him.

“Sangita works at Trilok Hospital, in the reception. She's lovely, Thatha.” Gautam's eyes turned dreamy as he recollected Sangita's face and figure. Ganapathi snapped his fingers in front of his grandson's face to recall his attention.

“Thatha,” protested Gautam.

“Get back to the tale, you might get late otherwise,” advised Ganapathi.

“Well, she's been married before. Her husband's no more. She has a small son...”

“Is she Gopal's daughter, by any chance?” Ganapathi interrupted Gautam's narrative.

“Who's Gopal?” asked Gautam.

“Sangita's father, maybe?” countered Ganapathi, his eyes dancing.

“Very funny, Thatha. Will you get to the point?”

“Well, a few years back, I helped this girl called Sangita get a job at the hospital. Her father's a friend of mine. I meet him almost every day at the...”

Gautam snapped his fingers as memory flooded him. He remembered what Sangita had told him at the hospital earlier in the evening. She hadn't mentioned her father's name though.

He looked at Ganapathi excitedly. “Do you know her father?”

“Whose father?” teased Ganapathi.

“Thatha,” Gautam's voice was impatient. “Sangita's of course, who else's?”

“How do you know that we're talking of the same girl?” Ganapathi challenged.

Gautam repeated the conversation he had had with Sangita earlier.

“Do you really know her father, Thatha? But this is great. Is he really as strict as Sangita says? She seems petrified of her parents.”

“Worse, my dear. Gopal's a friend of mine, alright. But he and his wife Radha are terribly old-fashioned and extremely orthodox.” Ganapathi paused for a few seconds before continuing, “You don't know what the poor child underwent when her husband died in an accident.”

A scowl gathered on Gautam's forehead as he listened to his grandfather. He didn't like the idea of Sangita's suffering, even if it had been in the past. A fierce feeling of protection rose in his heart.

“They wanted to shave off her head as in the olden days. They...”

“Don't tell me.” Gautam was shocked to the core of his being. Those lovely tresses shorn off? He couldn't imagine anything worse. What were her parents? Demons? Gautam's blood boiled. “Are they crazy? Such an old ritual at the end of the twentieth century?” He shook his head in amazement.

“Try telling them that, my boy. They wanted her to go around in white clothes.” Sangita's white saris flashed before Gautam's mental eye. “Thank God for the negligible amount of influence I have over Gopal. I put my foot down at shearing off her hair. Radha, her mother, didn't speak to either me or your grandmother for months together for putting a stop to it.”

“How did you stop it, Thatha?” asked Gautam, the respect for his grandfather going up by several notches.

“It was quite simple actually. I threatened to take her away from them. They agreed in the end since the poor child was dead against it and also thanks to her brother's support. That boy Raghavan is decent and quite modern in his outlook. He wouldn't have dreamt of standing back looking helplessly at what was happening to his sister. But I don't think he could have managed to stop his parents without my interference,” said Ganapathi. He wondered at fate that had brought life around a full circle, with his grandson falling head-over-heels for Sangita.

A smile lit up Ganapathi's features. He mentally prepared himself for a full-scale battle. For so it was going to be if Gautam decided to marry Sangita. Her parents would never agree. But then, Ganapathi thrived on challenges.

He looked affectionately at his grandson who had gone rather pale under his tan. “I think you'd better leave Gautam, if you want to be on time.”

“Yes, Thatha,” replied Gautam meekly, still in shock. He wondered whether he should be grateful that Sangita's family was from South India and not the North. He put his thoughts into words. “Do you think they'd have burnt her alive on her husband's pyre if they lived in the North?” Gautam shuddered at the images his vivid imagination created.

Ganapathi got up to put an arm around his grandson's shoulders. “Relax, son. It didn't happen. Sangita's yours, if you want her, okay? Just one request from me,” Ganapathi looked at his grandson's shell-shocked face, “Don't play with her emotions, my boy. She's been to hell and back in her short lifetime.”

“Never, Thatha. I'll make her mine if she'll have me, I promise.” Gautam was intense.

“That's my grandson. Make your move gently, son. Wish you luck.”

Gautam got up from the sofa to hug Ganapathi tightly and kissed his baldpate. “Thank you, Thatha. You're an adorable old man.” He looked at the mischievous twinkle in Ganapathi's eyes and added, “At times.”

He waved to him and calling out to Butterscotch, ran down the porch steps to get into the silver-grey Honda City and zoomed away to Children's Park.

Sangita looked at her watch yet again. It was only 6.17. She gave a small sigh. She couldn't blame Gautam if she was early, could she? She watched Sandeep and Ramya racing each other to slide down the board. At least they were having a great time, she thought.

“Hi there, if it's not Sangita?” A shiver danced down her spine as she heard Gautam's familiar voice. She turned around eagerly to see him standing there, holding a golden Labrador on a leash.

“Hi Gautam, is he yours?” Her eyes lit up brightly at the sight of man and dog.

“Yeah, meet Butterscotch, man's best friend.”

“Woof.” The Lab shook himself before sitting down. He raised his fore paws gracefully in greeting.

“Is he friendly?” asked Sangita.

“Very. And he adores children,” smiled Gautam. “Are you afraid of dogs?”

“No,” Sangita shook her head vigorously.

“Shake Sangita's hand, Butterscotch.”

Dog and lady shook hands solemnly before Sangita went on her knees to hug the huge, golden body. She buried her face in the dog's neck and cuddled him. It gave her an excuse not to meet the heat of Gautam's blue gaze.

“You're so cute, you sweetheart,” she cooed in Butterscotch's ear.

“Please don't embarrass the poor guy. No self-respecting male likes being called, 'cute',” came Gautam's voice close to her ear. He was kneeling beside her. She turned to look at him. It thrilled him to see the happiness and love shining out of her eyes.

“Okay then, handsome Butterscotch.” She went back to her cuddling. Butterscotch enjoyed the hug as much as she did and growled his rapture.

“Woof, woof.”

“Lucky mutt. Never dreamed I'd be jealous of my own dog,” grumbled Gautam in a low voice.

Wild colour rushed into Sangita's cheeks and she burrowed her face further into the dog's neck, her arms tightening around him.

Butterscotch made a sound of protest. Gautam touched Sangita's shoulder. “I think Butterscotch's worried that you're choking him,” he said with a straight face, his blue eyes laughing. It was rather silly, but Gautam felt glad that Sangita and Butterscotch had hit it off instantaneously.

“Sorry,” muttered Sangita, a trifle embarrassed, getting up from her kneeling position.

Gautam stood up too. “What for?” he cocked an eyebrow. “I'm sure Butterscotch isn't, hey, fella? Are you sorry about that great big hug?” The dog shook his body delicately as he stood on all fours, wagging his tail vigorously. “See, he's quite happy.”

Gautam looked down at her bent head. Even the drab shade of grey looked good on her, he thought.

“Sangita.” She looked up to meet the intensity in Gautam's gaze.

“Doggie,” squealed Ramya, pointing at Butterscotch, breaking the spell. The children ran over to the dog, arms outstretched.

They stopped near Sangita and waited for her nod while looking at the Lab with longing in their eyes.

“Sandeep, Ramya, meet Uncle Gautam. Butterscotch belongs to him,” she introduced.

Gautam went on his knees beside the kids who looked at him in awe. He appeared so big. He gave them a wide smile before putting out a hand. “Hi, Sandeep,” he shook Sangita's son's hand before turning towards her niece, “Hi, Ramya,” and shook her hand in turn.

Ramya went to Butterscotch and hugged him adoringly. She giggled her delight as the Lab licked her face exuberantly.

Gautam was surprised to notice that Sandeep was more interested in him than in his dog. He couldn't help the feeling of deep affection that rose within him for the little boy who was the spitting image of his mother.

He raised an eyebrow in query as Sandeep continued to stare at him in fascination. Ramya and Butterscotch were running around in circles chasing each other. Squeals of rapture and loud barks filled the air. Not distracted, Sandeep continued to study the tall man standing beside his mother.

Darkness had fallen and the halogen lamps in the park were switched on. “Who are you?” came the soft question. Sandeep decided he liked the stranger. He wanted to know more about him.

“I'm Gautam, your mom's friend.” Gautam put out his hand once again.

Sandeep placed his own small one trustingly in his and indicated that he wanted the two of them to sit on the bench that was further away.

Gautam looked at Sangita, his gaze questioning. She shrugged her shoulders in resignation, while keeping an eye on Ramya and Butterscotch. She was astonished with her son's behaviour. He was always shy of strangers, especially men. This was inadvertently due to the way Sangita reacted to strange men. But here she watched in enchantment as her son led the tall man to the park bench.

Gautam lifted Sandeep on to the bench before sitting down beside him.

“Are you my daddy?” asked the childish voice innocently, unaware of the disturbance he was creating in the adult's mind.

Gautam wasn't sure that he had heard right.

“Tell me again Sandeep, please” he requested the little boy.

“Are you my daddy?” repeated Sandeep clearly.

Gautam looked at the child sitting next to him wonderng how to deal with the question. He was worried about making promises without talking to Sangita first.

“Well, Sandeep, I thought your father...”

“Oh,” interrupted Sandeep impatiently. “I'm not talking about my Giri Daddy. He died. Are you going to be my new daddy?” he asked again.

Gautam thought quickly. “Why, did your mom say that she's getting you a new daddy?” countered Gautam, completely bewildered. He looked at Sandeep who was quite tall for his age. He had a serious and no-nonsense demeanour as he scrutinised Gautam, looking him in the eye as he continued with his interview.

“No, she didn't. But my Patti keeps shouting all the time that I don't have a daddy,” he confided in Gautam. “Mummy becomes very sad when Patti says that. I don't like it when my Mummy's sad,” declared Sandeep with vehemence.

'That makes two of us,' thought Gautam. He gave Sandeep an understanding look, glad to find that their thinking was similar. He liked the boy all the more for it.

“Did you ask your Patti about having a new dad?”

Sandeep nodded his head vigorously. “I asked her. She boxed my ears and told me, 'Sandeep, don't talk nonsense'.” The little boy's face fell as he recalled the incident.

Gautam instinctively placed his arm on Sandeep's shoulder, drawing him close. After the kind of secure family background he himself had, Gautam failed to understand how a grandmother could box a five-year-old's ears.

Sandeep cuddled close to Gautam, finding comfort in the older man's hold. “I asked Mummy today.”

“What did she say?” asked Gautam, a mite worried about the child's reply.

“She said 'no',” replied Sandeep dejectedly, his eyes looking at Gautam searchingly.

Gautam looked at Sangita's son helplessly. He turned around in search of his mother. She was rolling on the ground tussling with her niece and the Labrador. Her laughter could be heard all the way here. A smile broke out on Gautam's face. He was so glad he had come over to meet them along with Butterscotch. It took him but a few seconds to get to a decision.

Gautam lifted Sandeep on to his lap and seated him comfortably.

“So, tell me young man, what do you want?” he asked Sandeep, man-to-man.

“I want a daddy for my Mummy. I don't want Patti to shout at her. I don't want Mummy to be sad.”

Gautam was in complete agreement. He nodded his head encouragingly when Sandeep stopped talking.

“Will you be my daddy, please?” Sandeep asked Gautam. “Well, Sandeep, let me put it like this. I'd love to be your dad.” He watched the chocolate-brown eyes, so like Sangita's, light up in delight. “But, you'll have to wait for some time. I need to ask your mom first and later your Patti and Thatha. You must be patient.” Sandeep nodded his head on hearing this. “Let me do my best. In the meantime, will you look after your mom for me and not say a word to anyone? Let this be our secret,” he smiled at Sandeep, who nodded his head in agreement.

Sandeep threw both his arms around Gautam's neck and hugged him tightly. He placed a noisy, wet kiss on the older man's cheek. “Thank you. I love you, Daddy,” he said with great trust.

Sangita got up from her romp on the ground. Watching the man and boy curiously, she walked towards them holding Ramya by one hand. The little girl in turn was leading Butterscotch.

“Shh,” said Gautam warningly, placing his index finger on the little boy's lips. “Not now, Sandeep, only when I tell you. Do call me uncle till then,” he insisted, much to the child's disappointment.

Sandeep nodded his head reluctantly. Gautam placed a loving kiss on his forehead as the trio reached them. It was seven-thirty. Gautam eyed Sangita. Her hair was dishevelled; her face flushed from her exertions. He thought of the past hour and smiled to himself. He had made no progress in his relationship with her. But, he had made his acquaintance with her son and had found a trusted ally in him.

Sangita looked at Gautam. “I think it's time for us to leave, Gautam.”

“I guess so. Why don't I drop you guys at home? It's on my way, anyway,” he suggested reasonably.

Panic flared in Sangita's lovely eyes. “No, Gautam.” She watched as temper blazed instantly in Gautam's gaze.

“Why not?”

“I don't think...”

“Please Athai, let's go home with Gautam Uncle and Butterscotch. Say 'yes' please,” said Ramya. She didn't want to part with the golden Labrador.

“Yeah, Mummy. Please say 'yes'. I want to go with Gautam Uncle too,” insisted Sandeep.

She was outnumbered three to one. She looked at Gautam helplessly. He seemed to be enjoying Sangita's dilemma. “Give in, Sangita. We're too many against you. And what do you stand to lose? I do promise that my car's as comfortable as an auto-rickshaw, if not more,” he said, tongue-in-cheek.

Sangita accepted defeat and followed the lot as they walked to the entrance. The children tripped along with the big, golden dog while Gautam and Sangita followed at a sedate pace.

“Sangita.” She turned to look at Gautam. “Thank you for inviting me over today. I'm thrilled to meet your son. He's so like you; very handsome too.”

She blushed in pleasure. She asked Gautam curiously, “What were the two of you talking about?”

He avoided her direct gaze. “Oh, this and that,” he answered vaguely.

Sangita wanted to pursue the subject but thought better of it. Her panic about going home in his car and facing her parents took precedence over everything.

“Gautam,” her voice was hesitant. “Shall I take the kids home in an auto-rickshaw, please?” she pleaded. “I think...”

Blue flames leapt at her as Gautam glared at Sangita. “What kind of a cad do you think I am leaving a lady with two small children in the middle of nowhere while taking off in my car all by myself?” he asked angrily.

“But Gautam, you have to realise that my parents will be extremely upset if they see us getting off your car. They'll never approve.” She looked at him beseechingly, her eyes begging him to understand.

“So, let them be upset. You can assure them that the children were insistent.”

Sangita imagined her parents' reaction. “They'll never allow children to dictate on any matter, Gautam. They will only blame me. I don't want the poor kids to land in trouble.”

He nodded as he caught on. Sandeep had told him enough about his grandmother. “Sangita, what do you think they'll do at the most? Be angry with you for a couple of days? So let them. Don't you want to go back with me?” His voice dropped to a whisper, his tone persuasive. When Sangita looked up, the blue eyes compelled her to fall in with his wishes.

Sangita let out a long sigh of defeat. “Okay,” she capitulated.

They were almost at the gates when he bent to kiss her swiftly on her cheek. “Lovely, darlin', you've made my day,” he said, a smile in his voice.

She felt pleasure course through her body as she felt his lips against her cheek and saw the happiness on his face. Maybe it would be worthwhile to face her parents' wrath after all.

Gautam opened the car with the remote, bundled the kids and Butterscotch into the back seat before opening the passenger door for Sangita. She slid in without protest. As Gautam bent down to close the door he asked softly, “Ice cream?”

Sangita looked at her watch. 7.45. What the hell! She nodded her head and said, “Okay,” giving him a shy smile.

During the drive, Sandeep and Ramya plied him with questions that Gautam answered patiently. Sangita tried to stop them a couple of times but Gautam told her not to worry and chattered away with the two eager children.

He stopped the car at a large ice-cream parlour. “Now, tell me, what's your favourite?” he asked the kids. They roared jubilantly as Sandeep demanded chocolate and Ramya, strawberry. Gautam let the children and dog out of the car and turned to open Sangita's door.

“Let me remain in the car, Gautam, please.”

Gautam looked at her. He so wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her until she forgot the very existence of her parents. His fists clenched as he controlled the urge. “What flavour?”

“Butterscotch, of course,” she smiled at him.

“Right, one butterscotch coming up for the lovely lady.” Gautam got out of the car and ordered the ice creams. He placed a small tub of vanilla ice cream in front of Butterscotch who lapped it up in a couple of minutes and wagged his tail for more.

The children giggled as Gautam scolded, “No more, you greedy fellow. Patti will have my hide if you put on any more weight.”

Silence reigned as they relished the treat while Butterscotch looked at each one of them with soulful eyes.

The children thanked Gautam endearingly before getting into the car. Gautam drove swiftly as Sangita gave him directions. They reached Sangita's home in a few minutes.

The porch light came on as the opening of car doors could be heard from inside the house in the quiet neighbourhood. The ever curious Radha stepped outside to watch in horror as her widowed daughter came out of the passenger side of the car while the children tumbled out of the back. One could sense the extreme rage in her eyes; it seemed as if molten lava would spew from them anytime.

To crown it all, Gautam got out of his seat to hug the children before saying, 'bye'. He turned to Sangita with a smile on his lips. Her face had paled at the sight of her mother standing on the porch, her jaw hanging wide open.

“Sangita.” She turned to look at him, her pinched face pathetic. Gautam folded his arms tightly against his body to prevent them from going around her. “Sweetheart, please don't panic. Remember, they can't do anything to you. Any problem, call me.”

She gave him an almost imperceptible nod before going in to face the music.

He got into the car and drove away in a rush as he realised his presence would probably make the situation worse.

9

Radha waited for Sangita and the children to enter the house before closing the door quietly, the veritable calm before the storm.

She didn't even wait for her daughter to take off her shoes before snarling, “Who was that?”

Sangita forgot that she was all of twentyfive and mother of a five-year-old. She felt like a teenager who had outstayed her curfew. She raised frightened eyes towards her mother's furious face. She bent her head down, unable to meet the ferocity in the older woman's expression.

“Answer me,” Radha gritted her teeth, her fists clenched, controlling the urge to slap her daughter. Didn't the girl have any sense at all? Imagine the scandal if any of their neighbours had caught the scene outside. Radha shuddered.

Her attitude was justifiable since hers would have been the first tongue to wag if a similar incident had happened in any one of the other houses. She felt mortified that she might be at the receiving end.

“Answer me,” she ordered threateningly, her hands biting into Sangita's slender shoulders, shaking her none too gently.

“That was Gautam Uncle, Athai's friend,” piped Ramya's voice. She thought of helping out her favourite aunt as she seemed to have lost her voice. The children could sense a full-fledged war brewing and Sandeep stood by uneasily, hating the power his grandmother wielded over his mother. He recalled Gautam's promise and did his best to calm down.

“How do you know him?” came the next question. Radha was as subtle as a bull in a china shop.

By now the other family members gathered in the corridor to find out what the commotion was all about. Rekha read the tense situation immediately and bundled the children into the kitchen.

“Why are you shouting, Radha? What's the matter? You don't want to rouse the neighbours. It's past eight o'clock,” said Gopal. He wasn't concerned about the pallor in his daughter's cheeks, the pain in her expression or her stiff stance. The neighbours' impression came first and foremost.

“You ask her.” Radha pointed a finger at Sangita. “She just came home in a car with a young man, mind you. The shameless hussy! To behave like a thevadiya! I rue the day Giridhar died. She was his responsibility then. We didn't have to worry who she spoke to or...” She went on and on, hurling abuses at her daughter.

Sangita shrank from the verbal assault. To be called a whore; that too by her own mother! She shook her head in denial. She vaguely heard her father joining her mother in the vituperative tirade, as a roaring filled her ears, effectively stopping her from hearing their nasty words.

What had she done? The way they were talking, one would think that she had slept with the man. Sangita looked at her brothers pathetically, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. They were of her generation; surely they would be more understanding?

Rakesh, the younger of her two brothers, walked away in disgust, not wanting to get involved. He was planning to marry Lata, who was from a super rich and influential family. He shuddered when he thought how she would react to this drama. It didn't even occur to him that what he thought as a drama was actually his young sister's life. But then, that's how Rakesh was, selfish and insensitive.

Raghavan looked at his sister's face, his fists clenched in frustration and anger. The family didn't know anything about a 'hug' or the healing power of a loving touch. He wanted desperately to wipe away the anguish on Sangita's face. He felt fiercely protective of her, recalling vividly the hell she had undergone in her young life.

He looked at his mother impatiently, “Amma, I think that's enough.” His soft but clear voice seemed to have some effect on Radha, if only for a short while.

“Raghavan, don't you dare encourage your flighty sister. She...”

“Amma, what has Sangita done? She just came in the car with someone she knows. What's wrong in that?”

Radha gaped at her son as if he had taken leave of his senses. “What's wrong with that?” she gasped, turning to her husband for support. A few years back she would have hit her son or screamed the place down. But today, the retired couple depended on their son's financial support. And Raghavan had an excellent job with a salary to match. That shut her up more effectively than anything else.

“How can you talk like this, Raghu?” she continued in a calmer tone. “Just imagine what Pankajam or Soundarya Maami will think if they had watched the scene outside?” A violent tremor shook Radha's body. “I'm ashamed,” she declared, “to think that a daughter of mine, a widow at that, should get out of the car of a young man, that too at night...”

Raghavan looked at the ceiling, praying for patience and perseverance. His mother was just impossible; her idle mind truly the devil's workshop.

“Amma, please stop it. It's late. What's done is done. I'm sure Sangita won't do it again. Just stop shouting at her now.” He turned towards his sister who was hovering around helplessly. “Sangita, go in. I'm sure Rekha must be waiting to have supper with you,” he said gently, confident that his wife would console his sister better than he could.

Sangita sent a grateful glance towards him before rushing inside. She could still hear her mother grumbling to her father, who answered her in monosyllables. She had had a lucky escape. Not for a moment did she imagine that she had heard the end of it. Her mother would bide her time, wait for Raghavan to go to work and start again. Thank God for her job at the hospital!

The tears that Sangita had been holding back courageously refused to stop as she met her sister-in-law's sympathetic gaze. She rushed into Rekha's open arms and cried her heart out. The promise that Sangita had made to herself after Giridhar's death to not cry was broken; she was too hurt.

Rekha had fed the children and persuaded them to watch cartoons on TV in the bedroom. She rubbed the younger girl's back soothingly offering words of consolation. The pain she felt for Sangita tore at her heart. The kids had told her about their evening. It had all been so innocent. Look at how her mother-in-law twisted it. Rekha felt thankful for her husband's interference, supporting his sister. She hated it when Radha called Sangita a 'widow', as if it was some kind of a contagious disease. Surely it was no fault of Sangita's that Giridhar had crashed his two-wheeler in a drunken stupor. And good riddance to him too!

“Hush, Sangita, that's enough, dear. Stop crying,” Rekha tried to pacify her sister-in-law. Sangita's slender body shook with sobs as she brought herself under control.

“I didn't do anything for Amma and Appa to be ashamed about, Manni. We just met Gautam at the park.” She looked at the floor, a trifle guilty. She wasn't ready to admit even to Rekha that she had invited him. “He insisted on giving us a lift and it seemed so silly to refuse. I don't have any kind of relationship with him.”

Her mother was infamous for her vitriolic tongue and lack of sensitivity. But today she had surpassed herself. Sangita's pain knew no bounds. She shut her eyes to stop the tears from flowing.

She wasn't exactly surprised at the image her mind conjured up—Gautam's smiling face, his eyes crinkling at the corners before he swept her into a bear hug, soothing away her suffering with his gentle touch. Oh, how she needed him! Sangita shuddered at the thought of her mother's reaction if she knew how Gautam couldn't seem to stop touching her and how she responded to his touch, like a well-tuned violin in the hands of an expert player.

She opened her eyes slowly and looked at Rekha. She wiped her eyes with her dupatta and said brightly, “Have you had supper, Manni?” At Rekha's negative headshake, she linked her arm through hers and said, “Let's eat. I'm hungry.”

Gautam was frustrated with the way the lovely evening had ended and called himself all kinds of a fool as he entered the gates of Shraddanjali.

His grandparents had already had dinner but were waiting eagerly for his return. Ganapathi had filled Vimala in on the details she'd missed out earlier.

They were startled to see the thunderous expression on Gautam's face. What had gone wrong? He'd been so excited when he left home in the evening.

“What's wrong, son? Sangita stood you up?” asked Ganapathi directly, unable to bear the suspense. Vimala gave her husband a frowning look, placing a hand on his arm, trying to silence him.

Gautam turned his turbulent blue gaze on Ganapathi, ready with a rude reply on his tongue. But he could see a small quiver of anxiety in the older man's face, behind the teasing demeanour.

“No, Thatha.” Gautam walked across to his grandparents. He adored them as much as they loved him. He could understand their misgivings considering the kind of family Sangita had. They had known her parents since many years and his explosive expression obviously had added to their worry.

He gave them a reassuring smile as he knelt in front of them, placing a hand each on their knees. “I met Sangita, her son Sandeep and niece Ramya.” Gautam's eyes turned hazy as he recalled the little boy's behaviour. “I've fallen for her son's charm. It's more lethal than his mother's. Do you know something?” Ganapathi and Vimala looked at him eagerly. “Sandeep wants me to be his new dad,” he said proudly. “And Patti,” he turned to Vimala, “I so want to be.”

Vimala studied her grandson's face, trying to fathom the reason for his ferocious expression a few minutes ago.

“That's wonderful to know, Gautam,” she said gently. “I'm so happy for you. But what happened, dear? You looked upset.”

His eyes clouded with remorse. “I was so stupid that I insisted on giving Sangita and the kids a lift back home.” A tight fist banged against his hard thigh as Gautam berated himself for the millionth time. He couldn't help but recall Sangita's pale face and her mother's vicious expression. “She refused me so many times and I got angry with her. She gave in when I refused to take 'no' for an answer.” Gautam's face was tense with worry.

It dawned on the older couple's faces as they read the situation correctly. They knew better than Gautam as to what must be transpiring at Sangita's home. Their grandson, who had grown up in America, had no clue to the kind of cruelty the conservative Radha and Gopal were capable of.

“I was stupid; a coward, Patti. Instead of being a support to Sangita, I ran away from the situation after landing her right in the middle of it.” He buried his face on Vimala's lap, unable to forget Sangita's haunted expression, not able to forgive himself.

Vimala ran a hand over the unruly, golden-brown locks, trying to pacify her grown-up grandson. A small smile broke out on her face as she looked at her husband. She was so glad that Gautam had fallen for Sangita. She had always had a soft spot for the young woman who carried the troubles of her small world so bravely on her slender shoulders. High time someone treated her with the respect, love and affection that she rightfully deserved.

“You did the right thing, Gautam. The situation would have aggravated if you had remained there.”

He looked up to say, “I thought so too. I finally listened to Sangita's pleas for me to leave.” He would never forget her pathetic expression until the day he died.

“Relax, Gautam. Rome wasn't built in a day. It's going to be a tough job breaking the granite walls Gopal and Radha have set up around Sangita. But we'll do it son. Patti and I will help you make her yours,” Ganapathi declared complete support.

“I want to marry her Thatha, more than anything else in the world.” The blue eyes had never been more serious. “And I want to be Sandeep's dad even more,” he stated fiercely, recalling the child's adoring gaze.

“Excellent. Now stop moping and have your dinner. Ramanna has made your favourite rasam. Get up now,” ordered Vimala.

“I don't want dinner, Patti. I don't think I can get anything past my throat,” Gautam's face was sick with worry.

“Now you're being silly, Gautam. This is but a prologue to what you're going to face in the coming weeks. You might disappear at the end of it if you don't eat every time you find Sangita upset,” reasoned Ganapathi.

That sounded ominous. He nodded his head at his grandparents. “I think I'm keeping you guys from bed. Please go to sleep. I'll have dinner and go up myself in a short while.” The elderly couple's day started at four-thirty in the morning.

“Gautam.” He looked at Vimala as she addressed him. “I can keep you company while you eat.”

“I don't think so, sweetheart,” he said, hugging her.“Bed for you. I won't be good company anyway; plan to read myself a lecture.” He smiled as he said this.

“Very good, Professor. I think you need one. Only don't be too harsh on yourself,” said Ganapathi, patting Gautam on his back.

Gautam kissed them both 'goodnight' before sitting down at the dining table obediently to have his meal. Ramanna stepped out of the kitchen to serve him. “No, Ramanna,” Gautam protested, “Please go to sleep. I can manage. I'll keep the leftovers in the fridge, okay?” He smiled at the cook who was like a member of the family.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I am,” said Gautam, sending the older man to his quarters behind the kitchen.

His mind worked furiously as he ate his meal without tasting it. How to find out how Sangita was? He wouldn't dream of calling her as he'd done enough damage for one day.

Gautam frowned, thinking furiously. He snapped his fingers as he remembered Rithika. He called the Trilok Hospital and got Rithika's phone number. He dialled her residence, his fingers crossed. Will he be landing one more young lady in trouble that evening? A woman's voice answered, “Hello?”

“May I speak to Rithika, please?”

“Sure,” came the reply. He could hear her calling out to Rithika. She had at least not thrown a fit that a strange man was calling Rithika at night. Thank God for small mercies.

“Rithika here.”

“Hi Rithika, this is Gautam.”

“Oh, hi handsome! This is a surprise. How come you're calling me at this hour?” Rithika's exuberant voice was soothing after the drama of the past few hours. A relieved smile broke out on his face.

“I hope you don't mind.”

“Not at all.”

“And your family? I haven't landed you in trouble, have I?”

“Come on, Gautam, out with it. I'm sure you have a purpose to your call. And don't worry about my parents. They're quite forward. Now what happened? Sangita...”

Gautam sighed. “But of course.” He related briefly what had happened earlier, leaving out Sandeep's request to him.

Rithika whistled. “Phew! This is simply amazing Gautam...”

“What's so amazing about Sangita getting into trouble with her...”

“Sangita landing in trouble with her parents is quite common. She's not allowed to do a lot of things, being a widow and all that. She's an anathema, a sinner...”

Gautam's blood simmered to a boil. “Is that how they see her?” his voice turned dangerously quiet.

“And worse. That bastard who was her husband...”

“What are you saying Rithika? Why are you calling him a bastard?”

“Well, I'm not sure Sangita will thank me for giving you a character sketch on Giridhar. But just take my word for it. He was a first-rate bastard! And I'm quite sure she's relieved that he's dead,” stated Rithika vehemently.

Gautam couldn't believe his ears. He had thought Sangita had been in love with her husband. If not, why had she married him? He guessed correctly that the wedding had been arranged. But Sandeep had said...

“But, Rithika, Sandeep told me that Sangita gets upset when her mother complains about his having no father.” Gautam gave voice to his thoughts, having no qualms about questioning Rithika about Sangita's life.

“You've no clue how vicious her mother can be. She cries day in and day out about the loss of her son-in-law, totally impervious to her daughter's feelings. She keeps telling Sangita's little boy how sad it is for him not to have a father and that upsets Sangita more than anything else.”

Gautam caught on. “Then Sangita's mother probably wouldn't mind her getting married again.”

“You ought to be joking. If you're thinking what I think you are, you've an extremely tough job ahead of you, Gautam. Very tough. But I suppose if there's anyone who can pull it off, it's you. And Gautam, believe me, Sangita's worth it. Though let me also warn you that she's her own worst enemy.”

“You got that right. I want to marry her. But I only hope she wouldn't hate me by the time I convince her to tie the knot.”

“Don't you worry, Gautam. Considering what happened today evening, I'm confident that Sangita's attracted to you. The Sangita I know would never have risked calling a man and fixing up to meet him somewhere. That sure is telling. She hates the male species with the exception of her brother Raghavan and her son.”

Gautam felt warmth stealing into his heart that had been frozen with guilt and uncertainty. “Thank you, Rithika. You've given me hope. Can you do me a favour? I want you to...”

“Call Sangita and find out how she is? Sure thing, hero! I'll call you back as soon as I can. Give me your number.”

Gautam gave her both his landline and cell number. “I can't thank you enough, Rithika. You're a valuable friend.”

“Not at all, Gautam. You don't know how happy you've made me. Will call you soon,” said Rithika before disconnecting and immediately dialling Sangita's home.

Raghavan picked up at the other end.

“Hello, is that Raghavan? How do you do? And how are Rekha Manni and Ramya?” asked Rithika in her usual, bold fashion.

“I'm fine and so is everyone else. It's Rithika, isn't it? And how are you?”

“Just great. Could I talk to Sangita, please?” she asked politely.

“Sure.” Rithika could hear Raghavan calling out to his sister to take the extension in her room. Both the friends waited to hear the click as Raghavan disconnected the hall extension.

“Hi, Sangita!”

“Hi!” Her voice was subdued in direct contrast to Rithika's exuberance.

“Listen, my friend from the hospital called me.” Rithika didn't want to risk mentioning Gautam's name. “He told me about your evening. He's extremely worried about you, Sangita, but was too scared to call you directly.”

Sangita almost smiled despite her agony. Gautam scared! She couldn't think of a less likely event. She couldn't help it when her heart jumped with joy that someone cared about her enough.

“Please tell him not to worry, Rithika. I'm okay,” Sangita said in a quiet voice.

“Are you sure, dear?”

“Oh, Rithika. You know how it is. My parents were—are—very angry. But that's how it's always been,” she said with a touch of bitterness. “I brought it on myself. You must be aware…”

“Yeah, I am. But, surely, Sangita, you must feel something to act so out of character. Not that I'm complaining.” There was a smile in Rithika's voice.

“I'm truly crazy, Rithika. I was, rather. It was a spell of madness, mind you. Thank God it's gone now. I know where I belong and I've wiped out any stupid feelings I had,” Sangita said firmly.

“But Sangita, that's utter nonsense. How can you...”

“Please, Rithika. I don't think I can take any more tonight. I have made up my mind. Neither you nor...anybody else can change it for me. I'm okay now. I had a good meal and am planning to sleep well. You can be rest assured on that, okay? See you tomorrow. Goodnight.” Sangita placed the phone down. She told herself repeatedly that her life belonged with her parents and she'd better keep them happy. Flashing blue eyes haunted her dreams accusing her of cowardice. She didn't care. So she was a coward. What was that compared to being called a whore by her own mother? She turned to the other side and tried to get back to sleep with great difficulty.

Gautam picked up the phone on the first ring.

“Gautam, I just spoke to Sangita,” said Rithika without preamble. “She's okay, I think. She's had dinner and is on her way to bed.”

“Oh!” It was an anti-climax. The adrenaline that had been pumping inside him slowed down as he listened.

“But you have to work harder now. She's back in her shell, Gautam. Her parents really told her off I think, though she refused to discuss it. Now it's all up to you. I really hope you plan to pursue her.” Rithika wished him goodnight before disconnecting.

Nothing would stop him now. Gautam felt Sangita's pain as if it were his own. He would marry her, Gautam promised himself. He'd give her and Sandeep the wonderful life the two of them deserved. To hell with her parents! They had no idea what they were up against.

10

But Gautam hadn't bargained for Sangita's obstinate attitude. He couldn't see that she had grown a protective shell around herself to save herself more hurt. Why couldn't she understand that he was only trying to help her?

Gautam couldn't get anywhere near her or get in a word sideways over the next three days. He tried calling her at the hospital first thing in the morning. She refused to speak to him on the pretext of being busy.

Evenings when he went for his mockery of a physiotherapy session, she was either not to be seen or handling half-a-dozen patients. She was too busy for him. She refused to meet his eyes. Gautam had never felt so frustrated in his life.

He entered the hospital at three-thirty in the afternoon on the fourth day to find Sangita sipping a cup of coffee at her desk. She hadn't expected him so early. She raised her panic-stricken gaze towards him, her coffee cup in mid-air between her desk and her lips.

Her chocolate-brown eyes clung to his face. Missing him had been a physical pain. It was alright to talk about disciplining one's thoughts, only it was impossible to control one's heart. His eyes shone with a smile of triumph. It sent her heart into a crazy somersault. She ran her eyes quickly over his tall figure. He had lost weight, she thought, shocked. Why? He'd recovered since the accident. Maybe he wasn't well. How terrible! And she hadn't known.

Gautam's blue eyes were returning her compliment as he surveyed her like a man coming across an oasis in the middle of a desert. He drank in her gorgeous but sad face. He wanted to violently strangle the people who were responsible for the haunted expression in her eyes.

“Sangita.” He walked closer to take a better look.

She determinedly turned away from him. She didn't want to fall under the spell of that compelling blue gaze yet again. She had still not recovered from the last time.

“How are you, Sangita?” asked Gautam, his voice a sexy baritone.

Her head turned of its own accord as she nodded to him before asking, “And how are you? Not been feeling well or something?” her eyes anxious.

He shrugged.

“You seem to have lost weight.”

“That's because I've been missing you awfully.”

She had no reply to that.

“I've missed you, Sangita,” he repeated. “Terribly. Why have you been giving me the cold shoulder? I know I landed you in big trouble the other day. I'm so sorry about that mess, sweetheart,” Gautam said, his tone urgent.

“That's okay, Gautam. It's water under the bridge. Just forget it ever happened,” Sangita replied in a low voice, refusing to meet his eyes. She felt like being sucked into a blue whirlpool whenever she looked at them and she didn't like the idea of losing control over her sanity or her life.

“Sangita, listen to me. Take an hour off and let's get out of here. I want to talk to you in private,” Gautam's voice was persuasive. Sangita felt herself being hypnotised by his forceful gaze again.

“No, Gautam. I don't want to go with you,” she insisted.He took both her hands in his. They felt cold and small as he held them tightly. “I know what happened last time, sweetheart. Believe me, not a moment's gone by that I haven't berated myself for my stupidity. I'm extremely sorry. I promise you that'll never happen, ever again. Please take some time off and come with me. I'll drop you back here at five. You can go home then. No one need know.”

She had missed him too. She couldn't begin to say how much. Even her mother's ranting and raving hadn't deleted Gautam's image from her mind. Why not do as he suggested? She was tempted.

Gautam could see her weakening. He gave her an outrageous wink as he blew her a kiss. “Come on, sweetheart. I'll wait outside in the car for you. See you in five minutes.”

He turned around to see Rithika walking back towards the reception. He greeted her, confident that Sangita would fall in with his wishes that he almost missed the whispered, “No” that she uttered in a soft, desperate tone.

The blue eyes swung towards her, anger igniting quickly. A golden eyebrow raised in query as he looked at Sangita's bent head. But she refused to meet his eyes. Only the thought that he would alienate her further stopped Gautam from yelling at her.

He let out a frustrated sigh. What's with the woman? He'd been almost sure that she was glad to see him after all these days.

Rithika gave him a broad smile that he returned with a scowl. Her smile widened into a grin as she greeted him, “Hi, hero!”

“Hi!” came the low growl.

Rithika took a look at Sangita's pinched face and wondered what had happened now. She was aware that Sangita had been avoiding Gautam over the past few days. “Sangita,” she touched her friend's shoulder, “relax, dear.”

Gautam continued to glare at the two girls, his body tense with the control he was exercising on his temper. He wasn't used to being said 'no' to. And now he was being thwarted by this slightly built woman.

“I don't want to relive the nightmare of the other evening, Rithika.” She pleaded with her friend to understand her predicament. “It's still not over. If I go out with him now, I don't think I can go back home.”

That was a first—Gautam being discussed as if he wasn't there. His frown deepened.

Rithika placed a placating hand on his arm. She could feel the tension rippling through him. “Will you please calm down? I'm sure Sangita will go with you in a minute. Just give her a break.”

Blue flames leapt at Rithika as Gautam shook her hand off his arm and snarled, “I don't care. Do you hear me? To hell with you and your friend!” His voice rose with each word.

“I'm sure they heard you in the physiotherapy lab. Vaijayanthi must be quaking in her shoes. As it is she gives you a wide berth when you're there. Now I'm sure she'll go on leave till you complete your session, unless of course, she gives in her resignation.” Rithika's dark eyes twinkled as her effervescent humour came to the fore.

A glimmer of a smile appeared on Gautam's face as he grimaced. He shrugged his wide shoulders in a gesture of apology and turned to look at the woman who was turning his world upside down.

She had been staring up at him, watching the play of emotions on his face. She quickly lowered her gaze as she felt his eyes on hers, much to his annoyance.

“For the last time,” he asked, “will you go with me or not?”

“No, Gautam. I can't do it,” came the soft but determined reply.

He walked out of the hospital without a word. He just needed to get out before his temper blew out of control.

Sangita brushed away the film of tears that blurred her eyesight as she watched Gautam taking long strides towards the hospital exit. His acceptance of her refusal without a word of protest seemed to spell the death knell to their relationship. She sat back on her chair, her shoulders slumped, her head buried in her hands.

Gautam sat behind the wheel of his car, starting the ignition to switch on the air conditioner. He didn't want to drive in his state of mind.

What the hell was wrong with him? He had had his share of woman friends over the past few years. But no one had ever got under his skin. Never! A pair of chocolate-brown eyes came to his mind's eye. Gautam swore, banging his fist against the steering wheel. The pain that shot through his hand cooled his temper somewhat.

His phone rang and seeing the hospital number, he took the call in a hurry only to hear Rithika's voice, to his disappointment.

“Listen hero, Sangita's gone to take permission for an hour off. Where are you? Is it possible for you to pick her up?”

Gautam's heart thumped hard as he fought valiantly to put a brake to the emotions that were threatening to go out of control. “Why the sudden change of heart?” he queried sarcastically. “She was very sure a few minutes ago that she didn' wanna go with me.” He couldn't quite keep the hurt from his voice.

“Gautam, I'll say this just once. You don't know Sangita's parents like I do. And with your American upbringing, I wonder whether you'll ever comprehend what she underwent the other day. Please try to be a bit more understanding. I...”

“Undertandin'?” exploded Gautam. “What the hell do you mean by that? How does one understand a woman who refuses to let you anywhere near her? Who refuses to give you the time of day? It's like banging my head against a brick wall. I...”

“Gautam,” Rithika's gentle voice stopped him in mid-tirade. “If you're trying to get through to Sangita, you're going about it the wrong way. Losing your temper will get you nowhere. Sangita's only faced bad temper all her life. First her overbearing parents; then her useless husband. Now you...” She let her voice trail away, allowing her words to sink into Gautam.

“Okay,” said Gautam, his voice considerably cooler. “I got your point. I'm right outside the hospital. My car's parked at the area allotted for the chairman.”

“Thanks, Gautam.” There was a smile in Rithika's voice.

“And thank you, Rithika,” said Gautam grudgingly,“I appreciate your help.”

“You're welcome, hero,” said Rithika as she turned around to see Sangita back. She gave her a 'thumbs up' encouragingly and told her where Gautam was waiting for her.

Sangita opened the passenger door in exactly five minutes and sat next to him. Gautam fastened the seat belt for her before removing her handbag from her clutches and placing it on the back seat.

“Thank you for coming, beautiful,” said Gautam in a soft voice.

Sangita gave him a small, tight smile in reply, not sure how she had landed in the passenger seat of his car. Catching sight of the dark circles under his eyes, “Why are you looking so haggard, Gautam?” she asked anxiously. “Aren't you keeping well?” She was rather paranoid considering the number of patients who came into the hospital everyday with various illnesses.

“Of course not, sweetheart; I'm perfectly fine,” he replied as he reversed the car out of the hospital parking lot. Once outside the gates, Gautam drove as if the devil was on his tail.

“Haven't you been eating properly?” asked Sangita after a while, worried about his health.

“What's this now? Don't tell me you're concerned,” he replied, a trace of anger in his tone as he recalled how she had ignored him over the past few days. They were now driving down Old Mahabalipuram Road at a terrific speed. When Sangita looked from her window, she could see the bright blue of the Bay of Bengal shimmering in the late afternoon sun. It looked gorgeous.

On hearing Gautam's reply, she turned around to gaze at his profile. “Of course I am, Gautam.” Sangita placed a hand on his arm.

The tension left Gautam's body the second he felt Sangita's gentle touch. He slowed the car on an empty stretch of road and parked under the shade of a tree.

Her heart thudded as she met the heat in Gautam's gaze. “Alone at last,” he groaned as he released their seat belts and pulled her into his arms. He crushed the breath out of her body in a tight embrace.

“Sweetheart!” Gautam pressed feverish kisses on her forehead, nose, eyelids and cheeks. His lips were everywhere, caressing every inch of her face. Sangita raised her arms to place them around his neck and clung to him. This was where she wanted to be, in his arms. It was like a haven in her love-starved life.

He placed his lips on hers in a loving caress. His tongue darted out to rub gently against her sensuous lower lip. He buried his face in her neck and pressed his lips against the pulse beating rapidly at her throat.

Time ticked away as he felt a sense of peace stealing through him while he held her in his arms. Sangita came to her senses and pulled out of his arms to sit back in her seat. She raised shy eyes to look at Gautam, his golden-brown hair dishevelled from her caresses.

Gautam watched with a smile as colour stole into her cheeks; her gaze moving away from him to watch the beach where the waves were restlessly chasing one another. They appeared as calm as she felt.

He took her hands in his and kissed them one by one. “What happened that night, Sangita? Were your parents very angry?” There was regret in Gautam's eyes as he traced a forefinger down Sangita's petal-soft cheek.

She gave a small nod without saying anything.

“I'm awfully so...”

Sangita placed a hand on his lips, giving him a weak smile. “That's okay, Gautam. You've apologised too many times already.” It was her turn to offer comfort as she ran her fingers over his hard cheek. Gautam turned his head to kiss her palm.

“Yeah, I know. But I feel so responsible. Is it a sin, Sangita, wanting to get to know you better?” Gautam hit his clenched fist against the steering wheel, his frustration mounting.

“To what end, Gautam?” asked Sangita softly. She had thought long and hard over the past three days and decided to end their budding friendship or whatever it might culminate to be. She had tried ignoring him. It would have been easier to hold back those thrashing waves, it seemed.

“Just what the hell do you mean by that?” The blue eyes that had been so softly gentle a minute ago, spat fire at her question.

“Just listen to me, Gautam. We can't continue to be friends in the kind of society I come from. Friendship needs to be nurtured and cherished and for that we'll have to spend time together, get to know each other. I know it's not possible. Please under...”

“That's utter nonsense if I've heard any. Of course we can be friends. So, it's goin' to be difficult to meet often. We'll find ways; like today, for instance. There are bound to be ways, of course, presuming the will is there, sweetheart,” he said a trifle sarcastically.

Sangita looked at him, her gaze troubled. How to make him understand the kind of humiliation she had suffered at her parents' hands? They had treated her like a pariah. It was wonderful when she was with Gautam. But after work, it had always been home for her and the place had become a nightmare to live in, what with her mother's vitriolic tongue and her father's silent treatment. Her slim body shuddered.

He watched the play of emotions on Sangita's face, his blue gaze intense and penetrating. “You haven't told me what happened that night, Sangita,” said Gautam, his tone gentle once again.

“I don't think you want to know, Gautam. Suffice to say that it was extremely unpleasant.” Her expression spoke volumes.

“Tell me anyway.”

Sangita sighed. She should've known that he'd be too persistent.

“My parents were furious that I had got out of the car of a stranger so late in the evening.” Her low voice was devoid of expression as Sangita explained the scene to Gautam as briefly as possible. He had to bend down close to catch her words.

“My mother screamed at me and shook me by the shoulders. She called me all kinds of names,” her voice trembled as she continued. “She called me a whore, Gautam.” A single tear ran down her left cheek before she could stop it. The hurt from the harsh words still shook her to the core. “Believe me, Gautam,” she placed a beseeching hand on his forearm, “I am not one. I don't sleep around. In fact, after my husband...”

“Enough!” He pulled Sangita's trembling body into his arms, his chin rubbing the top of her head, as he tucked it against his shoulder. Her slight body shook with sobs. She didn't understand the need to justify herself to him. But then, she had been free with her kisses. She couldn't blame him if he thought that she had loose morals, could she?

Only Gautam could see her innocence from a mile away. He had been surprised by that quality in a woman with a child. But it looked like her marriage was shrouded in mystery. Rithika had called her husband a 'bastard'.

How could her mother accuse her of being a whore? His blood boiled with fury. What kind of a woman was she, calling her daughter names? Couldn't she sense the pain she caused? Gautam controlled the string of epithets that rose to his tongue. He didn't think Sangita would appreciate it.

He rubbed her back in a gentle caress, doing his best to pacify her. “I believe you, sweetheart. Anyone can see how innocent you are.”Sangita raised her head to look at Gautam's face searchingly. “You believe me?” she asked, her eyes wide with wonder.

“But, of course, Sangita. I most definitely believe you,” stated Gautam reassuringly.

His reward was a broad smile that stretched from ear-to-ear. Sangita threw her arms around Gautam's neck and said, “Thank you so much. You don't know how much it means to me.”

“You're welcome, my darling,” said Gautam. He was glad to see the smile shining through her tears. He trailed a finger down her face as he asked, “Now that it's clear, what about us? I don't want to lose your friendship.”

Sangita gave a huge sigh. “I don't want to lose yours either.” She looked at him, her eyes glowing. “Let's take life as it comes, Gautam, please. I don't want to find devious means of meeting you, without my parents' knowledge. It sort of leaves a bad taste in the mouth...”

“I couldn't agree more. You're right, let's take life the way it is.” He bent down to kiss her soft cheek. “Any problem, I'm there for you, darling. Please believe that.”

“Thank you,” Sangita smiled at Gautam, her finger tracing the dimple on his cheek. “I find that quite captivating, you know. It looks cute,” she said.

“Believe me, it's broken many a heart,” said Gautam, tongue-in-cheek, his blue gaze mischievous.

Sangita stared at him, startled. She didn't know whether to take him seriously. She turned away as his look became intense. “We'd better leave, Gautam. I don't want to be late.”

“Sure thing, sweetheart,” said Gautam, starting the car before making a U-turn towards the city. “And Sangita, do believe me when I say that my heart had been quite intact until the day I met you.” Gautam didn't wait for Sangita's reply as he whistled under his breath. His mood had improved tremendously. Sangita wasn't aware that her expression had been a dead giveaway when he commented about broken hearts. She didn't know that he was completely satisfied with her reaction.

11

It was Sunday. Sangita stood on the terrace beside the branches of the flame-of-the-forest that had grown to the height of the second floor. She had had a leisurely oil bath and was drying her flowing, dark tresses under the sun. The house was situated on a by-lane and she stood there idly watching the few cars come and go. This was a weekly ritual she found extremely soothing. The rest of the family didn't miss her as they were busy watching the line-up of Sunday soap operas on TV. She felt free as the sparrow that was flying against the brilliant, blue sky. There was no hospital duty nor was there any work in the kitchen. Sunday brunch was generally ordered from a local restaurant.

Sangita hugged these mornings to herself, selfishly. She loved her couple of hours on the terrace under the sun and her favourite tree. A smile lit her features as she scanned the sky. There was not a cloud in sight. She slowly brought her gaze down to the road. A tremor shook her slender fame as she caught sight of a man across the road. Extraordinarily tall and wearing dark glasses and a cap, he leant against a lamp post and was staring at their home. Why would someone do that?

The man raised his head to look up at the terrace. Her breath caught in her throat as she felt a ripple of anticipation dancing down her spine. The indolent grace of the stranger appeared familiar. She shook her head in a daze. She was obviously hallucinating. It couldn't be Gautam. Was he so much in her thoughts that she was seeing him in strangers? 'Idiot', Sangita berated herself.

By now the man had noticed her. Just as she was about to walk away, he removed his sunglasses and raised two fingers in a mock salute.

Sangita sagged against the terrace wall as her breath left her body in a gasp. It was Gautam! She stared at him. What was he doing here? Panic welled up in her throat. It was obvious he was waiting for her. Was he mad?

He slowly crossed the street, obviously planning to talk to her. She raised a hand to stop him and ran down the stairs into the house. Was she glad everyone was watching TV! She rushed into her bedroom and shutting the door, reached for the phone to rapidly dial Gautam's cell.

The mobile rang once; twice... 'Pick up, Gautam,' willed Sangita. He took the call on the fourth ring. Sangita sank against the pillows, wiping her sweaty palm against her cotton sari.

“Hi,” Gautam's firm voice came on the line.

“Hello,” Sangita's voice was a croak. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Hello, Gautam.”

“Hi, beautiful,” came the sexy voice. “So this is how you appear on a Sunday morning, letting your hair down. I so wanted to join you. Just as I was going to climb the wall and on to your terrace...”

“Listen, you Romeo,” Sangita cut him mid-sentence. Her brain scrambled every time she heard his rough voice with that American accent. She tended to forget what she had meant to say. “Why should you want to climb over? I...”“Ah, but you've broken my heart, ma'lady. I thought...”

“Gautam, please. What are you doing on my road?”

“Your road?” There was amusement in his rich voice. “I thought it belonged to the Corporation of Madras.”

“Oh, heavens, Gautam!” Sangita's voice was impatient. “Listen to me.”

“I am, sweetheart. Listening to you. I love the way you call my name.” His voice dropped to a soft caress.

She moved the receiver away from her ear to look at it strangely. It had seemed as if he was standing right next to her, whispering in her ear. She almost felt his hot breath on her neck. Her slender body shook in response.

“Sangita, are you there?”

She pressed the receiver back to her ear and said, “Listen, Gautam. I don't know what you're playing at. I don't want my parents upset. Please go away,” her voice was beseeching.

“Funny that you always worry about your parents' reaction,” Gautam's voice had turned sarcastic. “Don't our feelings come into it?”

A startled Sangita wondered where the 'our' had sprung from. Did they have feelings for one another? She didn't answer as she sensed a subtle shift in their relationship. She wasn't sure whether she had the guts to take it forward.

“Sangita?”

“Hmm.” Her breath came out in a sigh.

“Don't tell me you didn't hear me,” he accused.

Her sense of tranquillity had shattered. “Gautam, do we...” her voice was hesitant. “Do we...have some kind of feelings in this matter?” she tried again. “Can't we talk about this tomorrow?”

“Of course we do, damn it,” his voice exploded in her ear, the forceful sound like a gunshot. “And no, this can' wait. Either you come out of your bloody jail to meet me or I'm comin' right inside this very moment to meet you, parents or no.” He completely lost his cool.

Sangita blanched. What should she do? He was capable of keeping his word. She quickly said, “Give me five minutes and I'll meet you outside. I'll call you if I'm unable to.” Her voice was breathless with alarm.

“No way, sweetheart; you'd better meet me. I'm switching off my cell phone the moment you disconnect. Either you meet me outside in five minutes or I come in. The choice is yours.”

Some choice! She thought of the gentleman she had come to know over the past couple of weeks. Was this the same guy? The man she knew was calm and quiet with laughing, blue eyes. But this one seemed like a tornado sweeping away all her protests.

“Sangita?” Gautam's voice was impatient.

“Yeah, I'm coming. Just give me a moment, please.” There was a note of desperation in her voice; though it didn't seem to influence Gautam one bit.

“Okay. I'll see you soon.” He disconnected his cell abruptly while she replaced the receiver with a trembling hand.

She was still for a few moments, not knowing what to do. Rekha! Her sister-in-law would know what to do. She rushed out of the bedroom. Only after taking a few steps did she realise that her hair was a mess.

She rushed back into the room and scooped the whole length into a loose knot at her nape with no pins to secure it. She went out once again tucking her purse under her arm and sat next to Rekha on the floor at the back of the hall from where the latter was watching TV.

“Manni.” Sangita touched her sister-in-law's arm. Rekha took one look at the younger girl's pinched features and got up in a hurry. Sangita put a finger to her lips as the two of them moved to the kitchen.

“Manni,” Sangita's voice was breathless. “Will it be alright if I go out for a while?” Her eyes pleaded with her sister-in-law. “Gautam's outside and insisting that I meet him.”

Light dawned on Rekha's face as she smiled. No wonder Sangita was in a flutter. “You go on, Sangita. I'll hold the fort here. Oh, by the way, take a shopping basket and your purse. You can buy some vegetables on your way back. I'll tell the others that you've gone to get some that I urgently need for the evening.” Rekha smiled her encouragement. The Sunday market was at quite a distance. “I'll expect you only after at least an hour.”

“Not so long, Manni and thank you so much,” Sangita hugged her, “you're an angel.”

She left the house by the back door, checking her watch. It was seven minutes since Gautam disconnected the phone. She rushed to the gate to find him standing close to it, his fingers on the handle, ready to step in. She gave an audible sigh of relief. Looked like a man of his word, the devil.

He opened the gate for her as she stepped out, shutting it behind her. Her eyes begged him to move away. He shrugged his wide shoulders before walking to the pavement across the road. He tilted his head towards the silver-grey Honda City standing a few compounds away. She walked in a half-run towards it as he followed at a leisurely gait. On hearing the click of the remote, Sangita opened the passenger door and slid into the luxurious, cushioned upholstery and closed the door shut.

The half-minute it took Gautam to reach the car seemed like hours to her worried mind. Thank God for the tinted glass. She could just imagine the uproar if the nosy Sharada Maami had seen her waiting in a stranger's car.

She took out a handkerchief to wipe the moisture that had collected on her upper lip as Gautam got into the driver's seat and started the engine before switching on the air conditioner.

“Good girl,” he grinned. Was he glad that she had fallen in with his wishes! Frankly, he had no clue what he would have done otherwise. Entering her home was an empty threat. He wouldn't dream of landing her in trouble with her parents, not again.

“Tell me, Gautam. What do you want to see me about?” Sangita asked in a rush, her eyes not quite meeting his. It had just struck her that they were alone in the closed confines of his car, once again. Her blood sizzled.

“Hmm.” He looked at her face avidly, his eyes drinking in her beauty thirstily. “I just wanted to see you. I missed you at the hospital today,” he added.

Her panicked gaze flew to his, her hand at her slender throat. What was he playing at? “You came to just see me?” asked Sangita, her temper shooting to the surface. All this tension and trouble because he wanted to see her? Her eyebrows gathered in a frown.

“Yeah.”

Sangita put her hand on her door, turning away from him. “Well, you've seen me. Bye.” She tried to open the lock.

“There's a central lock,” he stated, a smile of satisfaction lighting his features.

“Will you please open it, Gautam? I'd like to go home,” she said, her face red with anger.

“Don't be silly, Sangita. I...”

“I'm being silly?” she turned around and snapped at him. He stared at her face, fascinated by her eyes flashing with temper. “You...” she took a deep breath to steady her voice. Her breasts heaved. Gautam continued to study her, totally captivated by her volatile reaction. “You are the one creating trouble, disturbing me on a Sunday morning, getting me out without my parents' knowledge and all for what?” Her voice rose steadily, “just to see me? Look who's being silly,” she concluded.

“Do I disturb you, Sangita?” came back Gautam's soft query.

She looked at his disconcerting gaze. What could she tell him—that his eyes refused to leave her alone, whether she was awake or asleep? That his touch drove her crazy? That his soul-searing kisses had rewritten the meaning of love in her personal dictionary? That the purpose she was going to work nowadays was only to wait for him to come for his physiotherapy session? That she was dreading the day when he would stop coming to the hospital when the doctor pronounced him fit?

And he wanted to know whether he disturbed her! Sangita would have laughed out except for the seriousness of the situation. She was slowly but surely becoming addicted to him. She, a widow from an orthodox, Brahmin family, had no hope of a future with him.

“What, no come back?” came the soft question. He had been watching her face intently, the expressions chasing one after the other. He didn't exactly require a verbal answer. Gautam shifted into first gear.

“Gautam?” He turned to look at her. His instinct was to gather her in his arms and wipe the fear and worry away from her brow. But not so close to her home. He drove down the road.

“Where are we going?” Sangita asked, her voice laced with panic.

“Where do you want to go?” he countered.

“I don't want to go anywhere.” Fear choked her throat. “Take me home, please.”

“I will do just that,” he said. The car gathered speed as he slid it on to the main road.

“Gautam?”

“You wanted me to take you home, right? I'm taking you home, to my place.”

“You can't be serious.” Sangita was horrified.

“I've never been more serious in my life, ever.” Gautam concentrated on his driving till they reached a red signal.

“Please, Gautam.” Sangita placed her hand on his forearm to add weight to her pleas.

Gautam felt the coldness in her hand before placing his to cover her tiny one. He looked down at her bowed head as her slender frame shuddered.

“Do I strike fear in your heart?” he asked gently.

She looked up straight into the gorgeous blue eyes and shook her head. “Not you, Gautam. I'm not afraid of you.”

“Then what's it? Will it be so difficult to spend half an hour in my company? Can't you manage to bear the brunt of your parents' anger for our sake?” he asked in a soft voice.

Sangita nodded her head, her eyes not leaving his face. He broke into a smile as he lifted her hand to press a kiss against her palm.

The sound of horns behind them brought Gautam back to earth and he moved the car forward. Silence reigned for the few minutes it took for them to reach Shraddanjali.

Butterscotch came tearing across the garden to welcome his master, barking his excitement. Gautam got out of the car after opening Sangita's door from the inside.

“Hi, Butter, howdy-do?” He fondled the huge dog, which gave in to his ministrations with a bark of pleasure.

Sangita watched him go on his haunches to fondle the dog. She walked forward with a smile on her face at the look of rapture on Butterscotch's face. Then it was her turn to greet the Labrador.

“Hello, you sweetheart, do you remember me?” asked Sangita as she went down on her knees to hug Butterscotch close. The canine responded by licking her face exuberantly. She giggled helplessly as he smothered her face with his wet tongue. “Slow down, you fatso,” she gurgled.

Gautam watched the two of them with an adoring gaze before he guided her into the bungalow. The cook opened the door for them.

“Hello, Ramanna. This is Sangita. And Sangita, this is Ramanna. He's officially the cook.” Gautam put his arm around the man who seemed about fifty years of age. “But he's as good as a member of the family, having been here from even before I was born.”

“Namaskaram!” Sangita brought her palms together close to her chest, fingers facing up as Ramanna returned her greeting in a similar fashion.

“Ramanna, we'll be up in my suite. I'm not available if any phone calls come in, okay?”

“Yes. Shall I make coffee?”

“Maybe later.” Sangita gave a small nod as he looked at her for confirmation.

Gautam directed Sangita to the marble staircase sweeping up from the centre of the hall. “This is my grandparents' home,” he said conversationally. “I live with them. I've a suite of three rooms on the first floor.” They walked up the staircase before Gautam turned left.

Sangita looked first one way and then the other as she took in her luxurious surroundings. “Where are they?” she asked.

“Gone to the temple.”

The hall they entered was similar in size to the one on the ground floor. One whole wall—west facing—was a sheet of glass. The view into the big garden was breathtaking. She could sense Gautam's impatience as she lingered. But she dreaded the moment they would be alone.

“Sangita,” the voice was a soft command. He was desperate to get her alone; away from the constant interruptions. He so wanted to get a few minutes of her undivided attention.

They entered a sitting room which had his personality stamped all over. “Welcome to my abode,” smiled Gautam.

“You spider, I'm no fly,” she retaliated in a light vein, trying to cover up for her nervousness.

“No, definitely not a fly; more like a lady bug. Cute!” He touched an index finger to her nose before moving it to trace the shape of her lips. Sangita watched him in fascinated horror, unable to move away.

What happened next was as inevitable as night following day. Sangita gave in with a sigh as Gautam pulled her into his arms and proceeded to kiss her. His hands were everywhere. Her hair came apart from the loose knot the moment he touched it. He pulled it over her shoulder and buried his face in it.

“Sangita,” he whispered in her ear. “You are too beautiful.” His lips trailed wet kisses on her jaw line. Her hands were caught between their bodies. He pulled them impatiently around his neck and dragged her close to his hard frame. “That's better,” he sighed as he felt her soft curves pressing against his hard chest.

Sangita waited for the fear to come, in vain. In fact, she felt completely safe. 'Hey,' she reminded herself, 'it's a man holding you. No,' she thought to herself, 'this man would never hurt me.' His touch excited her and she revelled in his kisses.

Gautam was busy, his lips against her throat, his hands about her bare waist. She wanted him to kiss her some more.

“Gautam.”

“Hmm.”

“Gautam,” this time 'her' voice was louder, her hands tugging at his hair.

“What's it, darling?” Gautam raised his head to look down at her glowing face, his eyes glazed, his voice slurred with passion.

“Kiss me,” she told him firmly.

A smile of astonished delight lit up his face as he bent down to oblige her whim.

Sangita pressed her body closer to his as her fingers played with the silky brown strands at the nape of his neck, tugging at them restlessly, her lips under assault.

To his pleasant surprise, Gautam realised that he was kissing a novice.

He raised his head to look at Sangita. Her eyes were shut tightly as colour ran high on her cheekbones.

She opened her eyes to find out what had stopped him. Gautam's blue eyes looked into her brown ones. “Open your lips,” he ordered.

Sangita obliged at once to find herself knocked sideways by what followed. His tongue was relentless as he plundered every inch of her mouth with meticulous care.

She buried her face in his broad chest as they came up for air. She couldn't remember who she was, let alone where she was. She felt a sense of homecoming in Gautam's arms and she realised that she would be happy never to leave them.

She felt his body shudder against hers as he tried to bring his passion under control. She made a sound of protest as he put some distance between them.

“I know how you feel, sweetheart,” he dragged a thumb across her pouting, lower lip, reddened by his attentions. “Believe me, I feel the same. But there's only so much restraint I can exercise,” he said regretfully.

Sangita caught his meaning and instead of the blush he expected, her face paled significantly. She moved away to sag against the divan and bury her face in her hands.

Loving wasn't just kisses. More was expected of her. Sangita shuddered in revulsion. No way! She'd never allow a man to make use of her body. Never ever!

But Gautam's kisses? She delighted in them. Yeah, only the kisses. But would he remain satisfied with just that? Not a passionate man like Gautam.

“What's it, love?” He squatted on the carpet in front of the low divan and took her trembling hands in his.

Unshed tears shimmered in Sangita's eyes as she felt a sense of loss. She shook her head without uttering anything.

“Sangita.” Gautam tried to pull her into his arms. She wouldn't let him. “Damn it, Sangita,” he blew his top, “what now?”

She looked up at Gautam's eyes blazing with anger. Somehow, she didn't feel frightened. “You tell me,” she answered calmly. “Now that we're home, what's it you wanted to see me about?”

Gautam found it difficult to curb his temper and passion. How did she manage to be so cool after the passionate kisses they had shared? He had no idea that the memories of her late husband had chilled her ardour.

“Marry me.” Gautam dropped the bombshell, surprising himself. He hadn't planned on popping the question so soon. But now it was out, he realised that was exactly what he wanted to do—to make her his immediately. The woman he never wanted to part with and a son he already adored—the readymade family was what he needed right now.

“Are you crazy?” It had taken Sangita a few moments to ask the question as she had difficulty in finding the breath that had left her body in a 'whoosh'.

“Yeah,” he agreed calmly. “Yeah, I s'pose I am. About you. I wanna marry you and take care of you and Sandeep for the rest of my life.”

The picture he drew was one of bliss. She couldn't have asked for a better father for her son. And as a husband, he would be just fantastic. But Sangita had her inhibitions. She had been called 'frigid' too many times for her to accept that she might not be that in this particular guy's arms.

She couldn't do that to him. He was a passionate man and she would make him an awful wife. And what was she thinking? Gautam's wife? Had she gone crazy too? Her parents would never agree. Why, her mother would either kill her or die of embarrassment. What would the world say? A widow remarriage! Well, it was the twenty-first century, one side of her mind argued. But the neighbourhood she lived in and the family she came from had still not stepped out of the nineteenth.

Sangita shook her head hesitantly at first and then more firmly. No way would this marriage work. She'd never live down the hurt of being a disappointment to Gautam in bed. They'd end up hating each other and where would that leave Sandeep? Her slender frame shook as she came to the inevitable conclusion.

“No.” Her answer was flat, not showing any of the emotions boiling within her.

“What?” Gautam couldn't believe his ears. He had expected a lot of argument from her and was prepared to break them all down. But this flat monosyllable he couldn't swallow.

“May I know why?” Sangita heard his voice become cold through the dull ache in her head.

“Gautam.” His temper cooled down the moment he heard his name on her lips. She had a soothing way of uttering it that brought him joy.

“Yeah, darling?”

Sangita looked at him pathetically. “It would never work, Gautam. To begin with, there are my parents, then...”

“To hell with everyone,” the American accent was back again, strong. “What about you? Do you wanna marry me?”

She looked at him, hunger in her eyes. What she wouldn't give to be his wife? But, she shut her eyes in pain. She could imagine his disgust when he found out how useless she was in bed. Her resolve became firm.

“No.”

Again that flat, single syllable, with no emotion! A man had his pride. She didn't really expect him to go on his knees with a begging bowl, did she? Gautam stared at Sangita's expressionless face, her eyes closed. His brilliant eyes were dulled with pain. A long sigh wracked his body before he tried once again. “Is that your final answer?”

She nodded her head, not trusting her voice.

“Sangita,” she opened her eyes to look at Gautam's pale face. “Today was my last day at physiotherapy...”

“But you have one more week to go,” interrupted Sangita desperately.

He was gratified to see the look of loss in her eyes. He felt hope rising in him again.

“Dr. Sukumar pronounced me fit yesterday. I went in today just to try out a few more strenuous exercises to find out how fit I am.”

So that's why he had wanted to meet her. He wouldn't be visiting the hospital from the next day. She wouldn't get to see him again. The thought almost stopped her from breathing. She wanted to curl up into a ball at the corner of Gautam's divan and just die.

She looked at him, her eyes shimmering as a tear slid slowly down one pale cheek.

“So, that's it.” She put her hand out. “It's time for goodbye. It was wonderful knowing you.” Her voice broke on the last sentence as she buried her face in her hands and wept.

“Sangita,” her name was wrenched from Gautam as he rose to sit beside her on the divan, pulling her into his arms. He couldn't bear to watch her cry. “Don't, sweetheart.” He pressed her head against his shoulder, his hand rubbing her head rhythmically. “Please don't cry, you're breakin' my heart.” Gautam pressed his lips to her temple, trying his best to calm her down.

Sangita pulled herself together before raising her head from his shoulder. Gautam covered her lips in a kiss as he couldn't help himself.

“Please marry me, darling. I promise to make you very happy.”

She touched his hard jawline, unable to stop herself. “But I can never make you happy,” came the bitter reply.

“Let me be the judge of that.”

Sangita let out a shuddering sigh as she put some distance between them. Wiping her face with the end of her sari, she repeated, “No, Gautam.”

“Are you sure, Sangita?” Gautam studied her shrewdly. “We might never meet again.”

“Why not?” Sangita visibly paled. “My place of work and your home are in the same area.”

“So why didn't we ever meet before? I don't plan to break my bones again,” he insisted, taking sadistic pleasure in hurting her.

“Won't you come to see me some time?”

“And do what? Moon over you from a distance? Just forget it, will you? I'm not a teenager to get my thrill from worshipping you from afar or get my kicks out of holding your hand in the lift...”

“Stop it, Gautam. You're embarrassing me.”

“So I'm an embarrassment now,” Gautam deliberately misunderstood her as his voice turned into a nasty snarl. “So be it.”

“Please Gautam, let's be friends,” she pleaded.

“I don't need a friend. I need you, for my wife,” there was abject misery in his voice.

“You don't understand...”

“You're right,” Gautam interrupted bitterly, “I don' understan'! I can' understan' why a woman's ready to kiss me senseless one minute and reject my marriage proposal the next. I just can' understan',” he repeated.

“Gautam!” Sangita tried to stop him from saying more.

“There's no meaning to this conversation. Please take me home, to my place.”

He stared at Sangita's face as the colour receded to leave it a pale oval. “Your answer's final?”

She nodded.

“I hope you don't live to regret it.” His voice, however, suggested the exact opposite. His features were rigid as he took a stern control over his surging emotions.

Sangita got up and followed him out of his room.

Ramanna's query of “Coffee?” froze on his lips as he caught the thunderous expression on the younger man's face.

Butterscotch rushed to greet the two of them as they stepped out into the sunlight. Sangita went on her knees to bury her face in the dog's neck as fresh tears gushed out of her eyes.

“Goodbye, Butterscotch.”

“That's enough,” Gautam's voice was savage. “You don't want the mutt to love you too much, do you? Not under the circumstances.”

Sangita got up with a jerk. “Please, Gautam, stop it.

“Stop what?” he lashed out at her. “Stop needing you? Stop wanting you? Just what do you want me to stop?” He banged a clenched fist against the bonnet of the car. The pain managed to bring about a semblance of calm. “Get in,” he ordered as he got into the driver's seat and revved the engine.

He waited for his grandparents' Maruti Zen to enter the gates before roaring out of them in a cloud of exhaust, much to their surprise.

“Please drop me at the Sunday market,” said Sangita in a subdued voice.

Gautam didn't respond as he turned the car in the direction she requested.

Sangita reached home, emotionally exhausted. She was glad to find Sandeep and Ramya busy watching cartoons. She couldn't have faced her son's chirpy questions just then.

12

It was the next Sunday, exactly one week after their bitter parting. Sangita stood on her terrace trying in vain to capture the mood of serenity that she usually felt during her Sunday morning ritual.

The sun was shining brighter than ever in the blue sky while the flowers of the flame-of-the-forest bloomed a fiery red. Tiny sparrows flitted across the cloudless sky, swearing to a freedom that was a distant dream for Sangita. She was a prisoner of her own thoughts that went round and round in tight circles over only one subject, Gautam.

Wherever she started, whichever way she turned, her introspection landed her at one point—Gautam. He seemed to have taken over her life—body, mind and soul.

A huge sigh broke out from the depth of Sangita's being. How she missed him! He hadn't contacted her since the day she turned down his proposal.

However much Sangita's logical mind understood his reasons, she couldn't help feeling hurt by his total rejection of her. He'd have made such a wonderful friend.

She felt as if a limb had been amputated maiming her for life. An irreparable loss!

Would he be feeling the same way, she wondered. Being a man, probably not, argued one part of her mind. But Gautam's different, insisted the other half.

Sangita was torn. The inaction was killing her, especially on Sunday. Work had kept her busy the whole week. But she had been on a short fuse, especially when Sandeep kept on asking her about Gautam.

Her son had repeatedly nagged her, like a needle prodding a festering wound. What fascination did the man have for her son? Had Sandeep also fallen for his fatal charisma as she had? Sangita shuddered at the thought. Her mind flitted around, looking for a way out. She considered the different options as she counted on the fingers of her right hand. Marrying Gautam was out of the question though that would have been the easiest. Being friends—Sangita grimaced as she recalled his reaction to the idea—was a no-no as things stood between them.

Should she explain to him about her marriage to Giridhar and make him understand why she couldn't marry him? That would be for the best. But did she have the mental strength to bare her soul to him, recollecting the pain and humiliation of her life with Giridhar? Maybe she could convince him that she was totally unsuited for a happy, married life. She was sure he'd agree to a friendship between them once he understood the reason for her refusing his proposal. She'd never have to live with this hell of not seeing him or speaking to him.

Now that she reached the decision, she wondered how she was going to execute it. She would need—at the least—a couple of hours with Gautam. The time was about nine in the morning. Sangita thought quickly while going down the staircase to her bedroom. Now that she had reached a conclusion, she wanted to act on it immediately.

She called Rithika and created an alibi. The other woman was only too glad to back her up. Sangita took her handbag and ran down to the ground floor, a lilt in her step. Not for a moment did she think that Gautam might not be home or may refuse to meet her.

“Manni,” she caught Rekha's attention and dragged her into the kitchen. Rekha was surprised to see the sparkle in the younger woman's gaze. She was aware of the marriage proposal and Sangita's rejection of it. She felt sorry that her sister-in-law had said 'no', but could well understand the other girl's reasoning.

“I'm going out to meet Gautam.” Sangita's voice was firm. “It might take a couple of hours. I've spoken to Rithika as I'm supposed to be visiting her. Please...”

“You don't need to explain further, dear. Go on,” Rekha gave her green signal with alacrity. She knew that if anybody could help Sangita have a better life, it was Gautam Sinclair. “I hope you're going to accept his proposal,” she added.

“Manni!” Sangita was shocked. “Of course not! You know why,” she said.

Rekha looked at her enquiringly as if to ask her why she was going to meet him in that case.

Sangita looked down at the floor. “I thought I'll explain to him about Giridhar and then maybe he won't ignore me anymore. I hope we can be friends,” she said, her voice unsure.

Rekha flashed a relieved smile at her sister-in-law. From what Rekha had heard about Gautam's character, he would never let go of Sangita once he got to know what she had undergone during her marriage to Giridhar.

“Excellent,” Rekha approved Sangita's decision. “I wish you luck!”

“Thank you, Manni,” said Sangita before she stepped out of the house through the back door.

Her heart beat hard, almost suffocating her as the auto-rickshaw reached the gates of Shraddanjali. Sangita paid the driver and walked through the gate. The exuberance with which Butterscotch greeted her seemed like a wonderful omen.

She went on her knees to hug the huge Labrador who licked her enthusiastically. Laughter bubbled from her throat, catching the attention of the man standing at the first-floor window, astonished at the unexpected sight.

“Yes, darling Butterscotch, I missed you too,” she said as she caressed his golden fur lovingly. She got up as the door opened and looked shyly at Gautam's grandmother. Sangita felt tongue-tied. She walked forward, encouraged by the welcoming look on Vimala's face.

“Hello, Vimala Maami, how do you do?”

“I'm fine, my dear. Come on in. It would make me happy if you call me Patti,” she said significantly as she guided the younger woman into the hall.

Sangita's face turned a fiery red on hearing Vimala's words. Ganapathi, who was sitting on the recliner, switched off the television as he saw the unexpected visitor.

Were they glad to see Sangita! Gautam had been impossible to deal with over the past week. All his love for his grandparents hadn't persuaded him to have his food on time. And he was a man who loved to eat. They'd been sorry to see him wasting away but quite unable to do anything about it. Even Ganapathi's persistent teasing which usually irritated or alternately amused Gautam had failed to bring him out of his apathy.

It was four days since he had been to college, the job he loved and had taken up out of choice despite the low pay. After all, he had given up a high-flying career as one of the directors of Sinclair Associates, a company owned by his father Alistair, with its head office in Washington DC.

The old couple eyed Sangita gently. They could see the wear and tear on her pinched features too. “Will you have some lemonade or maybe coffee, dear?” asked Vimala.

“No, thank you. I...” Sangita hesitated. Her innate shyness wouldn't allow her to ask for Gautam outright.

“Why don't you go upstairs, Sangita?” encouraged Ganapathi with a kind smile. “You know Gautam's room. I'm sure he'd be thrilled to meet you.”

Sangita gave him a small nod before excusing herself and stepping on to the marble staircase.

Gautam turned away from the sight of Sangita hugging Butterscotch, his body wracked in pain. God! He was surely going crazy, seeing Sangita whichever way he turned. He could well comprehend why some people were desperate enough to commit suicide after a relationship failed. A lesser man would have probably done just that.

After a minute he turned again to look out of the window to see Butterscotch standing alone. He had been hallucinating! A bitter smile curled his lips. Some hope! His trembling hand sought the cigarette packet as he pulled one to light it. He dragged on it deeply, hoping it will calm him.

Gautam thought he heard a light knock on his door. He wasn't sure. He shrugged his wide shoulders within a blue T-shirt that hung lank on his frame as he had lost a lot of weight. He couldn't give a damn. He must have imagined it. Both his grandparents and Ramanna knew better than to disturb him. He had made it very clear that he wanted to be left alone in his misery. Only his threat that he'd leave for the United States had got his adoring grandparents off his back. At that moment, he didn't really care if he hurt them. He was sure that they of all people would understand that he would rather lick his wounds in private.

The knock was there again, louder.

Gautam spat out a profanity as he wrenched open the door and barked, “I thought I'd made it clear that I wanna be left alone...” The sentence trailed in mid-air as his shocked gaze met Sangita's.

She was shaken at the sight of Gautam's gaunt figure, a cigarette burning away in his right hand.

His golden-brown hair was a mess as if he had run his fingers through them again and again. There was a thick growth of beard on his cheeks and his eyes were bloodshot. He looked unkempt, to put it mildly.

She walked into the room, eyeing him warily. He looked like a caged lion, ready to pounce.

“To what do I owe the honour of this visit?” he asked sarcastically, the words slurring.

“Are you drunk, Gautam?” asked Sangita, her eyes fearful.

“And thus she greets me.” Gautam rolled his eyes towards the ceiling, indignation in his stance. “I'm fine, thank you, kind lady,” he said sarcastically.

“I asked you a question,” said Sangita doggedly. She was clear that she didn't want to deal with a drunken man.

“Believe me, I wish I were. I tried it last Sunday. It brought me no relief and I hated myself the next morning.” He paused to catch his breath. “Now tell me why you've come, Sangita? To find out if I'm alive or dead?”

The dart hit home, bull's eye. Colour suffused Sangita's face as her eyes darkened with hurt and anguish.

Gautam swore profusely as he felt like a heel when he saw her hurt with the pain he had inflicted.

“I'm sorry, Sangita. That was uncalled for.” He drew in a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh. She'd lost weight too, he thought as he studied her hungrily.

Sangita missed the spark in the blue eyes and regretted the loss of the dimple, which seemed to be gone forever.

He squashed the cigarette in the ashtray that was overflowing, his gesture violent. She watched the way his T-shirt hung on him, not fitting him anymore.

“What have you done to yourself, Gautam?” she asked with a tremor in her voice.

“What makes you think that you've the right to ask me that?” asked Gautam. He felt a deep urge to hurt her, although it affected him too. The way he'd suffered this past week, he wouldn't wish it on his worst enemy.

“Gautam, I'm sorry.”

“What for?” he snarled. “That you have such power over me; to reduce me to this level? Don't be. You've caught me at a low moment. This shouldn't last. I'm a survivor and I'll definitely get through this phase. Please don't worry your pretty head on my behalf.” Anger and frustration shook Gautam's body. He folded his arms tightly to stop them from going around the woman in front of him.

“Gautam, please listen...”

“Do I have to, Sangita? I think I heard enough last Sunday. I don't want your damned pity,” he swore. “If those two interfering busybodies had been anyone other than the grandparents I adore, believe me, I'd kill them with my bare hands.”

Sangita looked at him, bewildered. “But why?”

“Because they can't mind their own bloody business and had to call you...'

“But Gautam, they didn't call me.”“No?” Gautam looked at Sangita, confused. It didn't strike him that she could have come of her own volition. No way! Sangita was too scared of her parents. And their opinion mattered more to her than anything else.

“Of course not, Gautam. Please believe me. I came because...” Sangita hesitated. Now that she was here, her courage fled. She didn't know what to say.

Gautam stared at her intently, as if willing her to utter the words he wanted to hear. Hope fluttered weakly in his heart. She had come to meet him on her own, risking her parents' wrath, not because someone had persuaded her to.

“Because?” he asked, a glimmer of hope on his face.

“I missed you, terribly,” confessed Sangita in a low voice. Gautam had to bend a long way to catch her words.

A slow smile lit his ragged features. “Not as much as I have missed you, darlin',” he said as he smiled into her eyes.

Gautam opened his arms wide and Sangita walked into them like a homing pigeon and buried her face onto his chest.

“Oh, Gautam, what do I do with you? You look ill,” she asked, her voice anxious. Gautam wound his fingers through her hair and tugged hard. He pressed his lips to hers as her face came up. His left arm tightened around her slender form as he kissed her hungrily.

“That's because my appetite for food has been non-existent these past few days,” Gautam whispered as he nibbled at her lower lip. “I almost lost my will to stay alive, Sangita,” he stated, his voice matter-of-fact, looking down at her pale features. “Only the thought of the hurt I'd inflict on my family has managed to stop me from killing myself.”

“Gautam!” Sangita's eyes rounded in shock.

“Marry me, Sangita, please. I've never had to ask for anything in my life. But, today I'm ready to go on my knees and beg you, darlin'. Please say 'yes'. I can't live without you.” Misery wrenched Gautam as he overcame his pride to beseech her.

Her parents' reaction took a backseat as Sangita looked at Gautam's tortured face before closing her eyes tightly.

“I'll make you very unhappy, Gautam,” she said.

“That's my lookout, sweetheart. How about you? Do you fear that maybe I'll make you unhappy?” he countered.

Sangita mentally thought of the blissful life of being married to him. She would always feel cherished and wanted. As for Sandeep, he couldn't ask for a better father. But whenever she thought of sharing a bed with him, an icy shiver ran down her spine.

“No one can make me happier than you, Gautam,” declared Sangita truthfully.

Gautam buried his face in her neck, his body shaking in reaction. His lips pressed against the pulse beating wildly at her throat. Sangita felt her heart leap in response to the touch of his hair-roughened jawline.

“Then why don't you just say, 'yes' and put us out of this misery?” he growled.

“I'd like to talk to you first, Gautam.” Sangita tugged at his hair and he raised his head reluctantly to look at her.

“What about?”

“My marriage to Giridhar.”

“It doesn't make a difference to me, sweetheart. In fact, I don't want to particularly hear about it.”

“Please.”

“Okay. Go ahead and tell me if you must.”

Sangita felt a smile of pleasure tugging at her lips as she watched Gautam.

“Is something funny?” he asked suspiciously.

“Why, nothing,” she said, eyeing him innocently.

“Okay.” Gautam walked to a roomy, single sofa, plopped down on it and pulled her on his lap. Sangita snuggled close to him with a contented sigh.

“Just one thing, though,” she said hesitantly.

“Get on with it, woman. Don't try my patience,” he grunted.

Sangita smiled at him beguilingly. “Have you had any breakfast?”

Gautam glared at her. “Does it have anything to do with your first marriage?”

“No.” Sangita's eyes danced. “But maybe the second one that I'm considering,” she grinned at him cheekily.

The blue eyes caught fire as he looked down at her glowing face. Crushing her to his taut body, he kissed her forcefully, his tongue plundering the sweet depths of her mouth.

When they finally came up for air, Gautam said firmly, “I'm not hungry for food, only you.” He spoke close to her ear, his tongue tracing the shell-like curve. He blew gently, creating myriad sensations that she couldn't quite identify.

Sangita blanched on hearing this and pushed at his chest, hard. But Gautam refused to let go and held her tightly. “What happened now?” he asked, a frown marring his features.

Sangita squirmed in his hold. “That's exactly what's worrying me, Gautam.”

“What?”

“The physical side of marriage,” she blurted out.

His frown grew deeper. “But why?”

“It leaves me cold,” the words were wrung out of Sangita. She hated telling him that.

“That's utter nonsense and you know it,” said Gautam, his finger tracing the curve of her soft cheek, enjoying the feel of her silky skin.

“Gautam, listen to me,” Sangita pleaded, sure that he wasn't paying enough attention.

Her fingers traced his unshaven jaw, enjoying the rough texture against her soft palm. She raised her head to press a kiss against the shadow of the dimple that had reappeared along with his smile.

“I don't know how to tell you this. I realised it when I was married to Giridhar.” Sangita's lips drooped sadly.

Gautam looked at Sangita's sad face with adoration in his gaze. He ran his fingers through the dark silken strands of her hair, finding it difficult to keep his hands off her. “Sangita.” Gautam pressed his lips to her cheek, tracing the curve gently. “Is there a need for you to undergo this torture, my love?”

Sangita looked up at Gautam's face, her arms around his neck. “Yeah, I need to,” she said firmly. “Once you hear me out you'll realise why I can't marry you. Only I don't know where to begin.”

Gautam sighed. “Let's get something clear first. No force on earth can dissuade me from marrying you.” He looked down intently at her. “Why don't you start at the beginning and get it off your chest?” he prompted gently.

Sangita closed her eyes tightly before pressing her cheek against the broad chest in front of her. She felt so secure in Gautam's arms that she had some difficulty recalling the horror that had been her married life.

She spoke in a soft voice and Gautam bent forward to catch her words, not wanting to miss any part of her narrative. “I was barely nineteen when I was married. My parents had chosen Giridhar for my husband. He was a graduate with a secure government job and our horoscopes matched. His parents lived in Delhi and he had a small flat of his own here at Madras. His parents left the same day, as soon as the wedding was over and Giridhar and I started our life on our own in his flat...

It was their wedding night and Sangita was a bundle of nerves. The couple had dinner at the wedding hall and after the guests left, had headed to Giridhar's flat.

Her brand-new husband had said or done nothing to put Sangita at ease. He had just shown her the bedroom and left her on her own.

The large, double bed dominating the room made her nervous. The books she'd read and the advice her friends had given her hadn't quite prepared Sangita for a night in a stranger's arms.

And yes, that's what Giridhar was, a stranger. They had been engaged for more than a month. He had made no effort to get to know her then. They had barely greeted each other when they met at the wedding.

And today, he had just left her in the bedroom and gone out, she didn't know where.

Sangita took a shower and wore the brand new nightie her friends had gifted her. It was of thin cotton and quite comfortable. She sat on the bed and awaited her husband, like a lamb for a slaughter.

Giridhar staggered in at about one o'clock and seemed startled to find her awake with the light on. He seemed astonished there was somebody at home.

“Oh! I forgot you were here,” he said, his voice slurred. What a wonderful compliment to a bride on her wedding night!

Giridhar walked close to Sangita and stared at her as one would at a specimen under a microscope. She controlled the revulsion that threatened to shake her body. She looked at her husband properly for the first time.

Giridhar was of medium height with a brown complexion. Quite normal until you looked at his face. He had a narrow forehead, a mean pair of black, near-set eyes, flaring nostrils and extremely thin lips giving the impression of an insensitive person. His oily, black hair was plastered to his skull, adding to his villainous looks.

Sangita stared at him, horrified that she was married to this man. He seemed to be in constant movement as if his body wasn't quite in his control, clearly because of the alcohol he had consumed.

He continued to look at the beautiful girl who was his wife. A sneer pulled his lips towards the left side of his face.

“So,” Giridhar lifted her chin and stared at her. A sinister smile lit his face at the fear lurking in the depth of her eyes. “How does it feel being married, Mrs. Giridhar?” he asked.

Sangita tried in vain to extricate herself from his painful grip on her chin. His breath reeked of cheap liquor and she felt her stomach heaving.

What should a bride reply to this, she wondered. She didn't even know the man. She looked at him stonily, not knowing what to say, tongue-tied in the presence of this alien she was wedded to.

“Cat's got your tongue, woman?” Giridhar let go of her chin in disgust as he plopped on the bed close to her and started removing his shoes. He tossed them sloppily against the opposite wall. “My Rosy would have greeted me quite differently, you know,” he said conversationally, looking at Sangita from the corner of his eyes.

Sangita looked at him strangely. Who was he talking about? She wasn't to know that Giridhar kept Rosy in style and had no intention of letting her go even after his marriage. In fact, he had only married Sangita for the hefty dowry her parents had offered him which had gone to furnish the small flat he had gifted his mistress.

“Tell me, what's this you're wearing? A tent maybe,” he smiled widely at his own joke, suddenly reaching out for the neckline of her cotton nightie.

Sangita's eyes widened as a frisson of terror ran through her entire body. She stared at Giridhar's face, as it looked evil in the dim lighting of the table lamp. She moved away from him subtly, worried at how he might react.

Giridhar moved close to her swiftly, pinning her to the headboard, pressing his liquor-laden rough face against her neck. “Come on, baby, this is our wedding night, remember?” he laughed. “Let's have some fun.”

Sangita tried to open her mouth to voice her protest only to find Giridhar pressing his mouth roughly against hers, his large teeth biting her tender lips. She whimpered involuntarily in pain.

Giridhar raised his head to look at her. He felt a kick of pleasure course through him as he watched Sangita cower away from him in fear.

“I suppose you didn't like it,” said Giridhar in a reasonable tone. Sangita's relief was short-lived as he turned his attention away from her face to her body.

“Now, why don't you remove this tent?” said Giridhar as he got up to remove his own shirt and trousers rapidly. She turned her face away.

Sangita had a couple of married friends. Nothing they had mentioned had prepared her for the horror she was feeling. Was this how a man behaved on his wedding night? Unless maybe something was wrong with her! She was the one who was feeling a strong sense of revulsion. Nalini and Sita had confessed to a profound sense of joy in their respective husbands' arms.

She concluded that something was definitely wrong with her and not wanting to appear a freak, turned towards her groom of a few hours. The sight that met her eyes made her close them in a hurry as the blood drained out of her face.

She heard the low laughter that emanated from Giridhar as he moved towards her. He just presumed that she had closed her eyes in awe at the sight of his manhood. He pulled her on the floor and lifted the nightie off her in a single movement before she became aware of his intentions. Sangita stood shivering despite the warm weather, her arms folded tightly across her naked breasts, ashamed of her body that recoiled from the man who was her husband.

“Come on, don't act coy.” Giridhar pulled hard at her arms and kept them at her sides. He stared in fascination at her innocent breasts that had never felt the touch of a man and something seemed to break loose within him. He raised his cruel hands to crush their innocence that seemed to taunt him. Sangita's cry of pain goaded him as he pushed her bodily on to the bed and pulling off her panties, thrust himself into her. Sangita's scream rent the air which only seemed to excite her husband further.

He didn't give a second thought about her virginity or the pain she suffered as he got off her once he was sated and rolled over to the other side of the bed. He started snoring a few moments later. Sangita gritted her teeth, reluctant to give voice to her pain. Her husband had ignored her first cry of pain and she was too proud to scream again.

Gautam looked at Sangita's tight face. She sat across from him on the divan as she unfolded the horror that had been her wedding night. He felt shaken as he could see the scene clearly in his mind's eye and God, how he wished that he could get Giridhar alive for just a few moments so that he could have the pleasure of strangling him with his bare hands. Sangita continued the story of her marriage in an expressionless voice.

She went into the bathroom to dispassionately check the ravages to her body. The bruises the eye could see were nothing compared to the unseen ones. She took a cold shower and dressed herself in the hall. Sangita spent the rest of the night huddled on the sofa waiting for dawn to break.

She took her purse and closing the door quietly, left for her parents' home.

Tears rolled down her cheeks when she met her mother and father.

“What happened?” roared Gopal, sensitivity definitely not being one of his traits.

“Will you calm down, Gopal?” ordered his wife Radha. “Let me talk to the girl.”

Radha dragged her daughter none too gently into the kitchen and pushed her into a dining chair. “Now, tell me what happened,” she commanded, her voice stern. She didn't bother to comfort her daughter who was crying her heart out.

“Amma, please,” Sangita hiccupped as violent sobs shook her slender body. “Please let me stay here with you. I don't want to go back to...to Gi...” Sangita choked, not wanting to utter her husband's name.

“What?” screamed Radha. “Have you taken leave of your senses, you foolish girl? Your father and I have spent so much money and time on your marriage and barely after twentyfour hours you are back here. What nonsense is this?”

“Amma, please, please try to understand. I hate it there. I...” Sangita choked once again, not knowing how to tell her mother about the humiliation she had suffered.

“But, Sangita,” yelled her mother, “How can you make such a stupid decision so soon after the wedding? You and Giridhar barely know each other...”

“Exactly, Amma. And he, and he...” Sangita shuddered, at a loss for words.

Light dawned on Radha's face that there had been some problem in their physical relationship. She put a pacifying hand on Sangita's shoulder and said, “Don't be silly, Sangita. These things take time. Things will definitely get better by and by. Giridhar is such a good-looking man, educated and with a secure government job. You couldn't have asked for a better match. Women are born to adjust, Sangita, not to throw tantrums in the face of adversities. Men will be men, you know. You have to learn...”

Sangita closed her ears to the long lecture that followed. She had obviously not got across to her mother. She looked around desperately, searching for an escape. There was just no way. She was barely nineteen, a fresh graduate with no job to fall back on. She knew only her family and a few friends whom she wasn't very close to. Her two siblings were male and she couldn't imagine talking to them about her horrifying experiences. She felt lonely and cornered.

The telephone rang shrilly and Sangita jumped like a nervous filly. Gopal answered it and turned around to yell, “It's Mappillai on the phone, Radha. He's so worried. Ask your stupid daughter whether she came away without taking his permission?”

Sangita shrank from the accusation in her mother's gaze. “Is that so, Sangita?” she asked her daughter harshly.

“Amma, I told you...”

Radha gave her daughter a killing look before snatching the receiver from her husband.

“Mappillai,” she gushed, her tone dripping honey. “How are you?”

“I'm alright,” answered Giridhar superciliously. “Only your daughter...”

“Hee hee,” cut in his mother-in-law with a stupid smirk on her face. “She's young, you see, and also very innocent. You must give her time to adjust to you. She's a good girl,” this as she pinned her daughter with a glare.

“Okay, okay,” said Giridhar, his tone grudging as he accepted Radha's explanation. “I was quite worried you know, when I got up to find her missing.”

“I am sure she is very sorry, Mappillai. Please forgive her. Gopal and I will bring her back right now.”

“There's no need. I will come after a few hours and pick her myself,” he said, his voice suggesting what a big favour he was doing them. He suddenly felt a strong urge to visit Rosy and didn't want to be hassled by a visit from his parents-in-law.

“That's very kind of you, Mappillai. You must have lunch here. It will be our pleasure,” she insisted before disconnecting the line.

Sangita realised the futility of appealing to her mother's reason as the older woman continued to lecture her on the intricacies of a woman's role in a marriage. Sangita had to put up with her tirade till her husband's arrival.

Sangita looked at the three of them, her parents and her husband, feeling paralysed at the turn her life had taken. She vaguely heard them discuss her as an object or maybe an animal, which had passed from one set of hands into another, to be moulded and made use of as he pleased. Her opinion was never sought. Thankful for the feeling of numbness, Sangita sat through lunch huddled on her chair, pretending to eat the food on her plate. She felt abandoned.

13

The days flowed into each other. Sangita turned deaf and mute to her surroundings. She succumbed without protest whenever Giridhar decided to bed her and was careful not to exhibit the revulsion she felt. She felt undying gratitude towards the unknown Rosy, who made sure that it didn't happen too often.

Sangita was glad that Giridhar never raised his hand on her. She thanked God for small mercies. But his tongue was a scorpion's sting. He humiliated her verbally at every opportunity.

Sangita, who was innocently beautiful, lost confidence in herself. She believed Giridhar when he called her plump and ugly. He hated her innocence and purity. He felt the urge to hurt her and bring her to her knees.

Even her unreasonable parents had approved of her culinary skills. Giridhar couldn't find anything right with the meals she prepared.

“You call this sambhar?” he pushed his plate violently across the length of the dining table. “It tastes like mud.” He walked away, not looking back when the plateful of food crashed to the floor.

'How would you know the taste of mud?' Sangita didn't ask the question that rose to her lips. Oh, what was the use? She wiped the tears that rose unbidden to her eyes as she bent to clear the mess her husband had created in his wake.

Giridhar slammed the door of the flat behind him as he left for Rosy's. Sangita sighed in relief, as she looked forward to the next few hours of peace and quiet. She took each day as it came, careful not to look into the future, as she could see nothing but darkness. She never bothered to call her parents or her friends. Nobody could rescue her out of the hell she was relegated to.

Days went by when Sangita had only the milkman or the vegetable vendor to talk to. She didn't care. She merely existed, having given up on life.

She gained some amount of confidence that her troubles couldn't get worse. This faith was broken one morning when she woke up, violently sick.

She looked at her wan face in the bathroom mirror. Now what the hell was wrong with her? Sangita squared her shoulders and looked at her reflection. 'Buck up, you fool! Sickness doesn't mean anything. You're just fine.' She felt better after the pep talk and continued with her day as usual.

Sangita had taken to maintaining a diary into which she poured her thoughts, her dreams, her disappointments, her frustrations and her anger. She guarded it very secretly. It served as an excellent way to let out her feelings. She felt much better that day after writing her diary. But she again felt violently sick, first thing the next morning. Terror struck Sangita's heart. Could she be coming down with something? Flu or malaria, maybe! She was petrified. She couldn't think of one single soul who would be bothered.

Maybe she had cancer. Sangita shuddered. Her brain felt woozy. She couldn't recall one symptom of cancer from what she had read about the dreaded disease. She had to see a doctor.

Her visit to her general physician left her dazed. He had conducted some tests and congratulated her. She was pregnant! Sangita didn't know whether to laugh or to cry. She felt so unwanted, totally without an anchor and now suddenly there was this new life growing inside her.

She reached home to find that her husband had already left for work. She was fiercely glad. She sat down on the sofa with a tall glass of fresh orange juice. The thought of any solid food made her want to puke. She sat for a while thinking about the news the doctor had given her and the impact it was bound to have on her sorry existence. She finally came out of her listlessness as a big smile appeared on her face.

She was going to be a mother. A tiny life was growing within her, which was all her own. She felt fiercely protective of her unborn child. She would shower it with all the love she had in her heart. And finally, inexorably, she would have someone whom she could call her own. She had ultimately found her anchor in life, her reason to live.

Her joy knew no bounds as she went about preparing lunch. She had to eat well, the doctor had advised. The sick feeling had passed and she felt ravenously hungry as she bit into an apple, humming a tune to the small being that had taken life in her womb. She ran a gentle hand over her still flat stomach and marvelled at the wonder of nature.

Giridhar failed to recognise his wife when he came home in the evening. The radiant creature in front of him wasn't the ghost who had been living in his house over the past few months. Sangita bubbled with joy when she gave the wonderful news to him as she served him coffee. She was ready to forgive all his misgivings for the precious gift he had given her.

“You know something?” he drawled in reply, “Science has advanced so much that it's quite possible to find out who the father is. A woman can't thrust her bastard on her husband any longer.”

Sangita blanched at the verbal whiplash. She turned away as the content of his words slowly sunk into her. Her first instinct was to curl up in pain. But no! The doctor had told her that she needed to nurture her baby with a lot of love and happiness. She didn't care what Giridhar said. He was bound to judge someone as he himself was. One couldn't blame him for thinking the way he did, right out of the gutter.

Sangita was going to be cheerful for her baby's sake, even if it killed her. She owed it to her baby. She looked at Giridhar in the eye, “The doctor has advised me against having sex during the pregnancy,” she lied blatantly, her fingers crossed, confident that Giridhar wouldn't care to find out the truth.

“You were no great shakes in bed, anyway,” he shrugged as he left her alone to change and leave for Rosy's place.

Sangita was floating on cloud nine as she daydreamed about her child, crooning to it many a happy hour.

She marked the dates on a calendar while waiting for the birth of her child. She would call him Sandeep or call her Sanjana, she decided. She was fervently glad that it could be her own decision.

Her mother made a big, fat fuss over her—to impress the friends and neighbours, no doubt. Sangita was totally unaffected by the goings on around her as she felt the baby moving inside her. She was overawed by the marvel that was the life growing inside her womb. She had her diary to share it with.

She gave birth to a healthy baby boy at 12.20 in the afternoon on July 9th. She felt ecstatic holding Sandeep in her arms for the first time. He didn't resemble his father in any way and Sangita was glad to see the chocolate colour of his eyes. It was love at first sight for her!

She couldn't care less that the baby's father never came to see him at the hospital. It only gave her the confidence that Sandeep belonged only to her exclusively.

All the insults Giridhar flung at her had no effect on Sangita. She was in seventh heaven holding her little bundle of joy. The baby had given her a new lease in life.

Sandeep was almost three months old and fast asleep in his cradle when the doorbell rang. Sangita opened the door to admit two policemen who insisted that she identify the watch, ring and wallet that belonged to her husband. They had found them on the dead body of a man who had been involved in a motorcycle accident. He had crashed it drunkenly into a lamppost and died on the spot.

Sangita turned around to look at Gautam who had been listening to her patiently for the past half an hour. She smiled at him.

“That's it, Gautam. The story of my married life. I hated every moment of being Giridhar's wife. I was revolted by his touch and I never enjoyed the physical intimacies that we shared...no, not shared, he forced them on me. I detested every bit of it. I couldn't think of a way out. In the end, I just wished him dead. I never really expected my prayers to be answered so speedily. But the sense of relief at his death was tremendous. I still am not able to believe that I am free of him. But, somewhere deep down I feel that maybe I did him an injustice. I wonder how it appeared from his end. He was married to me, a frigid woman who couldn't make him happy. And he lost his life at a young age, thanks to my wishful thinking.” Sangita shuddered as she admitted to her feelings of guilt for the first time. She had carried her guilt around, buried deep under her feeling of euphoria at her husband's death. But talking about her marriage in detail for the first time to a willing listener brought it to the fore. Now it stood out as if in bright neon letters—the fact that she had willed Giridhar dead.

Gautam looked at Sangita with a mix of adoration and compassion. “Sangita, has anyone ever told you what a fool you are?” She gave him a shocked look that seemed to ask, 'Et tu, Brute?'

Gautam sat down on the divan next to her, taking her small, trembling hands in his. He ran his thumbs in a loving caress over the backs of her hands. “A fool,” he reiterated gently. “A man treats you like trash, has an extramarital relationship and you feel guilty that you may have given him a raw deal? He gets drunk and crashes his motorbike and you feel responsible for his death? You only wished him dead. If I was in your place, I might have killed him! You, my darling, are an adorable fool.”

“But Gautam, I couldn't make him happy in bed. The whole process revolted me.”

“Rubbish, that's utter nonsense and I can prove it to you,” said Gautam

Sangita gave him a sad look. “You don't know, Gautam. I just abhor physical intimacy. That's why Giridhar...”

“I don't want to hear your words of praise for that particular gentleman, if you'll please excuse me,” stated Gautam vehemently, his disgust obvious.

She giggled as a frown gathered on Gautam's handsome face. “You, silly Gautam, are jealous of Giridhar. I can't understand why. I never even liked the man. I...”

“Good. Now that we're clear about that, let's close the subject. I've heard enough for a lifetime. I'm glad for the loser's sake that he never had the misfortune to meet me.”

“Gautam.” She looked at him, rather taken aback by his vehemence.

“I mean it, Sangita. I'll not tolerate anyone who tried to hurt you or Sandeep,” he declared passionately.

She felt her heart swell with elation only to crash down when she realised that they were still left with the problem of Gautam's marriage proposal. She had yet to find a way to convince him that it wouldn't work.

“Thank you, Gautam. I'm so glad to know that I have such a loyal friend in you.”

“Sangita,” Gautam's arms tightened around her waist, “I want to be more than your friend.”

She raised her hand to caress his bearded cheek. “Please try to understand, Gautam. I...”

“No,” he protested. “You listen to me. I now know that you don't like physical intimacy. That's fine by me.” He crossed the fingers of his right hand behind her back. “I'll never force you to do anything that you don't want to, okay? Now say 'Yes'.”

“But, Gautam, you...”

“Sangita, will you marry me?” He looked intently at her, his gaze compelling and cajoling, all at once.

Sangita lowered her gaze to his shoulder level. Gautam's T-shirt hung lank on his gaunt shoulders, giving proof to the hell he had been through the past week. It seemed to mock her reluctance to wed him. Did she have a choice? Who was she fooling? She couldn't imagine a life away from him. And it was obvious to her that he was also extremely unhappy without her. Why should either of them suffer this agony?

But on the other hand, what would happen after a while, when Gautam needed her physically? He was normal even if she wasn't. And then there were her parents to consider. They would never agree to this marriage. A big sigh shook Sangita's slender frame. She felt the whole weight of the world pressing down on her slight shoulders. She buried her face against Gautam's chest, her arms around his waist, not wanting to face the future.

Gautam had been watching the conflict of emotions on her face with a smile on his face. He bent down to press a kiss on top of her head.

“Sweetheart.”

“Hmm.”

“The decision too tough for you to make?” he asked gently.

“Hmm...mm.”

“Right, then. Let me handle it. I won't propose marriage. You've no choice. Just marry me within the month.”

“What?” Sangita's head jerked away from him. She looked up at his face as if to find out whether he had gone mad. “Are you serious?”

“Never more so in my life.”

“But...”

Gautam pressed his hand against her lips. “Just listen, will you?” He waited for any further protest before lifting his hand off her mouth. “My grandparents and I will deal with your parents. I'll adopt Sandeep legally and the two of you can move in here after the wedding. I'm sure you don't have any objection to that,” he declared confidently as if he had set forth a plan for a day's picnic by the seaside.

Sangita gaped at him, her mouth wide open, at a loss for words. Gautam pressed a gentle fist under her chin to close her mouth and grinned at her cheekily. “What, no come back? Don't tell me I have finally managed to render you speechless.”

She shook her head in a daze. “I don't know. You make it sound so simple, Gautam.” She raised troubled eyes to his, “You don't want us to elope, do you? I don't want to hurt them.” Her tone was pleading.

“Of course not, sweetheart. Do you trust me to deal with everything?”

Sangita looked into his passionate gaze. He was probably the first person who had taken so much interest in her. If anyone could give her a better life, it was him; especially with his grandparents' support. She remembered the time when they had stood by her when her parents had insisted on shaving her head. What did she stand to lose?

But on the other hand, she would gain a wonderful future as Gautam's wife. A small smile lit her tense features as she nodded slowly to Gautam. “Okay,” came the whispered reply.

Gautam lifted her off the floor to swing her around a couple of times.

“Gautam,” she gasped as he put her down and kissed her. Sangita clung to him, her arms clasped tightly around his neck, standing on tiptoe. She knew that any problem with her parents would be worth the sparkle that had come back into Gautam's eyes.

“Shall we go down now to break the good news to Thatha and Patti?” he asked enthusiastically.

Sangita nodded in agreement. “But before that, do you think you can get cleaned up, Gautam?”

“Why ma'am, are you suggesting I'm dirty?” A devilish grin lit his ragged features.

“Like a tramp! I'm not suggesting it, sir, I'm stating it.” Gautam gave a startled shout of laughter at her prompt reply.

He let go of her reluctantly to step into the bedroom. Ten minutes later, he came out, clean-shaven, hair combed neatly, wearing a fresh shirt.

“Will I do?” he asked her, tongue firmly in cheek.

Sangita examined him from top to toe. A mischievous smile lit her face, making her glow. “I didn't know that the wedding was to take place right now. Look at me. I can pass of for a ragamuffin. Are you still sure you want to marry me?” she grinned, setting his blood on a slow boil.

He stepped forward and embraced her. “If you're fishing for compliments, you've come to the right pond. Well, here goes,” he held her face between the palms of his large hands, “you look beautiful, like a fresh, dewy rose bud in the early morning sunlight,” he whispered. The English professor was never short of metaphors when it came to describing her beauty. “You look gorgeous, my love,” he continued, as tears gathered in her eyes. He pressed his lips against her eyelids, one by one.

“I want to lay down a few ground rules in our marriage. It's mostly a partnership. But sometimes you've to give in to my whims.”

“What now?” she asked.

“Rule no. 1, no tears. I won't permit my wife to cry.” He smiled at the look of relief on her face.

“Okay. And rule no. 2?”

Gautam shrugged. “I'll make them as we go along.” He turned her towards the entrance to his suite, an arm around her shoulders.

“Do I get to make some rules too?”

“Reasonable ones.”

“But of course. Rule no. 1, no smoking.”

Gautam looked at her with a smile. “Agreed, on one condition. I'll kiss you every time I feel the urge to smoke.”

“Only then?” came the soft challenge.

They laughed as they went down the stairs, hand-in-hand.

14

Sandeep peeped through the bars on the side of the staircase leading to the ground level. His sleepy eyes were rounded in fear. The scene downstairs was definitely not one to be witnessed by a five-year-old. It was 11.30 pm.

Radha was screaming at her daughter. Although this had been happening recurrently over the past few weeks, she sounded exceptionally vicious that night.

Gopal sat back on the sofa watching his only daughter with something akin to hatred in his eyes.

Rekha stood at the kitchen entrance, controlling a strong urge to bang her parents-in-law's heads together, to knock some sense into them.

Raghavan stood a few feet away, calmer than the others. But even he was not prepared for the explosion that followed the announcement he had made half an hour earlier, after waiting for the kids to go to sleep.

Radha was yelling at the top of her voice, her stance violent. No one was aware of the kid who was watching the whole scene, his heart breaking for his mother.

Sangita stood in the middle of the hall, her head down, not meeting her mother's gaze. Her mother had been shouting non-stop since Raghavan told them about Gautam Sinclair's wedding proposal. Sangita didn't bother to interrupt her mother's tirade as she knew it was futile.

“I wonder what kind of a fate I have that I gave birth to you! You have brought me nothing but tears and disgrace. Why did you have to deck up so attractively to lure a man? First you had to get into trouble with Giridhar. Then your luck is so awful that he died and you became a widow at twenty. Athai correctly advised us to shave your head off. But no, you wouldn't listen. Raghu supported you and also that...that...” she ground her teeth in anger, “that old coot, Ganapathi and his bloody wife Vimala stood by you and wouldn't allow it. And see what has happened now. How dare their grandson have an eye on you, a widow? Just how dare he? Does he have any idea of the anxiety we parents undergo taking care of a young widow under our roof? I don't know why you had to go to work at that hospital in the first place! For that too I have that Ganapathi to thank. Why couldn't you have stayed at home and prayed everyday like any other widow? Taking the name of Lord Krishna and Rama would have kept you out of mischief. But no, the great widowed queen had to strut in public, attracting all the men. I was right the other day calling you a thevadiya. That's what you are. Why did you have to be born to me? What terrible deed did I do to deserve you?”

She rattled on and on, utterly insensitive to anyone's feelings. Sangita winced every time Radha abused her. She was especially hurt whenever her mother blamed Gautam or his grandparents.

But her mother was not through yet. “The whole family is cheap. One child they had. They didn't have the capability to bring her up properly. Is it enough if they have a lot of money? Is there no need for self-respect? That fool, Swetha— I wonder how many men she ran after, before trapping that American tycoon. Chee! What a family! And today,” her chest heaved, “today, a son born to that characterless woman wants to wed my daughter; my daughter who has already been married and is also a mother. I feel like hanging myself in shame. What will our relatives and friends say? What will the world think of us? Bhagavaane!” She threw her arms towards the ceiling in a melodramatic gesture, “Why am I still alive after hearing this? Why don't you take me away? My life has become hell thanks to my daughter,” she howled.

Sandeep was consumed with intense loathing towards his grandmother. He could barely understand the words she spoke. But her tone and gestures were clear enough. He felt fiercely protective towards his mother who was silently listening to hers.

Raghavan had kept quiet all this while, waiting for his mother's fury to abate. But it was almost an hour and her tantrum was still going strong. He was disappointed with Rakesh's behaviour when he had turned away in disgust on hearing the news. Rakesh had gone into his bedroom, shutting the door behind him, totally indifferent.Raghavan looked at his father, but there was no support coming from that direction either.

Radha paused for breath and Raghavan plunged in, in his gentle voice. “Amma, let's forget about the past. Sangita's only twentyfive. Don't you want her to have a happy life? There are so many families who have become modern, who get their daughters remarried if they lose their husbands. It's not as if we went around seeking a match for Sangita. These people have approached us. We should be grateful that such an opportunity has presented itself. I think...”

“What nonsense are you talking Raghu? Have you gone mad? How do you think I'll hold my head up in the society? This is utterly shameful. I never expected you to change so much.” Gopal shook his head in disbelief.

He had been sitting quietly, watching the proceedings. He kept to his corner of the sofa controlling his urge to pull his daughter's dark hair and shake her. Such was his abhorrence. He should have listened to Athai, he thought. She had so strongly advised them to cut off Sangita's hair when Giridhar died. She had foreseen this problem. And she had been absolutely correct. He looked at his daughter through a red haze. She was still wearing the pale cream sari that she had gone to work in. There wasn't a bit of make up on her face. Her father couldn't comprehend what had caught the attention of a man like Gautam Sinclair. He just glared at her while she looked down, not having the courage to look into his eyes.

Raghavan looked at his father. “But Appa, why don't you please consider Sangita's future? The way it is, I only see an arid desert. As a family, we should think about her interests.”

“That's enough! I am not here to listen to your lectures. I refuse to hear one more word on this subject. This wedding won't happen. That's it. Now let's all go to bed. We have wasted enough time labouring on a worthless point.”

Radha raised a triumphant gaze to her son's bitter face. “Go sleep over it, Raghu. When you wake up in the morning you will see the truth in what your father and I are saying.”

She looked at her daughter with disgust and turned her face away.

Sangita slowly raised her head to see her son standing on the staircase, valiantly trying to hold back his tears. He put out his arms to his mother, calling to her silently. She gave him a reassuring smile before walking up the staircase. She picked him up in her arms before going to their bedroom.

“Mummy?” came the small, questioning whisper. “Why is Patti angry with you?” His lips drooped sadly.

Sangita pulled him on to her lap and cuddled him, ruffling his hair. “Listen, Sandeep. You wanted a daddy, right? I...”

“Gautam Uncle's going to be my daddy,” declared the little boy gleefully, the past hour of misery forgotten in a jiffy.

Sangita gave her son a startled glance, unable to control the smile on her lips. “Yeah,” she said, much to her son's delight.

Sandeep threw his arms around his mother's neck and clung to her, planting a kiss on her cheek. “He told me that he'll be my daddy,” he said, excited.

Sangita moved her face away and asked in surprise, “Who said that?”

“Gautam Uncle. He told me that day that he'll be my daddy.” He clamped a hand on his mouth, his eyes dancing mischievously. “Oh-oh! It's a secret.”

She punched her son playfully on the chin while saying, “So that's what you both were discussing so seriously in the park?”

Sandeep nodded with a smile.

Sangita looked down at her little son who should have been in bed hours ago. But then she hadn't been surprised to see him at the top of the staircase. He had developed a strong, protective instinct towards her and got disturbed everytime his grandparents shouted at his mother. He would wake up at the slightest noise from angry voices.

“Bed for you, young man,” she said before lifting him onto the twin bed on the other side of the room.

“Mummy,” he protested. “I want to talk to Gautam un...no, Daddy. Pleeease!” His voice was slurring in sleep.

“Later, Sandeep, not now. Go to sleep.” She kissed him goodnight.

He was fast asleep within a few seconds. Sangita sat with him for some time before getting up to change into a nightie.

She wasn't awfully troubled by her parents' reaction. It was expected. Her mother calling her a 'whore' the other day had somehow broken the grip her parents had over her thoughts. She had believed she should never cross their wishes. But it was obvious that her happiness did not matter to them. She just didn't care anymore. After the Sunday morning with Gautam, Sangita had the conviction to face just about anything with him at her side.

A smile lit up her face as she thought of the way he had broken down all the walls she had created around her.

Sangita willed the next few weeks to rush away and looked forward to the day she would become Mrs. Sinclair.

'Sangita Sinclair.' It sounded like music to her ears. She wanted to hear Gautam's voice. She looked at the clock above her bed. 1.15. Would he be awake, she wondered. What was the harm in trying?

She quietly opened her bedroom door to check if the others were settled.

She sat on the bed and lifted the receiver with a trembling hand, quickly dialling his number before she could change her mind. He answered on the second ring and her heart soared as she heard his voice, “Hi, sweetheart!”

“Hi!” she whispered.

“I'm glad you called me. I am too distracted to work any-way; you keep interrupting my thoughts.”

Sangita turned red as she heard his soft, amused voice uttering the words. “Oh!”

“Oh indeed! So tell me, how are you?”

“Okay, I think.”

“What happened?” Gautam sat up straight as he caught the sadness in her voice.

“The usual. What else? Raghavan broke the news to my parents. And the scene the other day was a picnic compared to what happened just now.” A small sigh broke out from her before she could quite stop it.

“Oh my God! You mean Raghavan has already spoken to them? I wish I had been there with you, my darling; you didn't have to suffer this all by yourself.” Gautam's blood boiled at the way he was forced to take a back seat, his hands tied. But Ganapathi and Vimala had strictly warned him to stay away.

“But then you're with me, Gautam,” came the soothing whisper in his ear. “You're always with me. Where do you think I get the strength to not break down at my mother's tirade? I just visualise your face in front of me and become deaf to all those hurtful words.”

Gautam's eyes moistened on hearing her words. He cleared his throat before saying fiercely, “I'm glad, Sangita. Not long to go, my love. Soon you'll be my wife and all this will become a part of your past.”

“Exactly what I told myself. I spoke to Sandeep, Gautam. He's too thrilled and said that he knew all along. What have you been filling my son's head with, Gautam? He...”

“Our son, Sangita. Sandeep's my son too. I'm meeting my lawyer tomorrow to get the papers ready to legally adopt him. I can't wait for the day Sandeep becomes my son officially. But, in my heart, he was mine the day I saw him.”

“Oh, Gautam, that's perfect! You don't know what that means to me. Sandeep pines to have you as his father. I don't know how I'll ever be able to thank you enough.”

“Just shuddup, will you? I don' wanna hear a formal vote of thanks from the woman who'll be my wife in a couple of weeks' time.”

Sangita's eyes rounded in awe. “That soon?”

“Yeah, only it's two weeks too long,” came the frustrated growl much to Sangita's amusement.

She gurgled at his irritated comment.

“What's so funny?”

“Why, nothing Gautam. I think you are getting cranky from lack of sleep. You should go to bed.”

“I feel wide awake. I've a good mind to meet you right now.”

“Gautam! Don't be crazy,” there was panic in Sangita's voice. “Please...”

“I know. I know. I'll not do it, okay? I just wanted to hold you for a while and kiss you.”

Sangita took deep breaths to calm down her nerves that responded with alacrity to his soft, flirtatious voice.

“Sangita, you still there?”

“Yeah,” came the breathless reply. “I want to be in your arms too Gautam.”

“Then lemme...”

“Please, no. Not tonight. I'll meet you tomorrow.”

“When?”

“Shall we fix up something? I'll call you from the hospital.”

“Okay, fine.”

“Shall I say goodnight, then? It's quite late.”

“And you need your beauty sleep. Okay, goodnight, sweetheart.”

“Bye, Gautam. Pleasant dreams.”

“Oh, sure! Thanks,” he said with a mild sarcasm.

Sangita blushed yet again before disconnecting the line.

She couldn't stop thinking of Gautam and it was a while before sleep claimed her.

15

Sangita got ready for work. Panic and excitement vied within her, making her head spin. Gautam's smiling face wiped away the panic. One look at her son's face tripled her exhilaration.

Mother and son went down the staircase to have breakfast. Sangita was startled to see the tight expression on Rekha's face. Her eyebrows rose in silent query that Rekha answered with an equally silent shake of her head.

Sangita made some coffee for herself and handed over the mugs of Bournvita Rekha had prepared to both Sandeep and Ramya.

“I'd like to leave soon, Manni. I don't want any breakfast.”

“Just where do you think you are going?” came the menacing snarl from the kitchen doorway.

Sangita turned around to look at her father.

“To the hospital, Appa,” she answered softly.

“You won't be working there any longer. I have enough money to feed and clothe you and your brat. There's no need for you to earn any,” he said.

“But, Appa…”

“Just keep quiet. I believed you, but you broke my trust. I never expected this of you.”

“But Appa, what have I done? Why are you punishing me like this?” Sangita's voice almost broke down.

“What's left there for you to do? You have managed to bring shame to our family. Thank you very much for all the gratitude you have shown towards your mother and me for taking care of you.”

This was emotional blackmail of the highest order. She looked at Raghavan and Rekha with a bitter smile on her face.

Her father walked to the hall and sat on the sofa with Radha and Rakesh. The household was split into two factions, it seemed.

Raghavan nodded to Sangita to sit on the chair next to his.

Rekha took the children out to their school van and returned in a few minutes. She removed a plate to serve hot ven pongal and avial for Sangita.

“Not for me, Manni, I'll puke,” said Sangita in a strangled tone, a hunted expression on her face. She didn't know how to get over this latest hurdle.

Raghavan placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed it reassuringly. “I don't want you to disappear before the wedding. Do eat your breakfast. Don't worry about them; I can handle them but definitely not Gautam's wrath,” he joked.

A small glimmer of a smile appeared on Sangita's face as they finally had their breakfast.

“I'll have to call the hospital and inform them.”

“That won't be necessary, Sangita. Rakesh has already told them on your behalf that you won't be going there anymore.”

Sangita felt hurt. She had really enjoyed the job. Rithika was bound to be shocked. And she had told Gautam that she would call him from there. She turned to look at her brother.

“Not to worry, Sangita,” he patted her hand awkwardly, the gesture unfamiliar to him. “I'll be in touch with Gautam. I'm more determined than either of you that this wedding should take place. Between our parents and that slime ball of a husband you had, you've hardly had a life.”

Surprise lit Sangita's face. It was so true that if one door closed, another automatically opened. She nodded to him. “Thank you, Raghu.”

“And Sangita, don't call Gautam from the land line. Appa and Amma will definitely listen in,” he warned.

What's with one more disappointment? Sangita was used to them.

“Do you need any help in the kitchen, Manni? Otherwise I thought I'd just go back to my room.”

“That's okay, Sangita. I don't have much to do.”

Sangita nodded her head to both of them before going to her room, feeling beaten.

Barely two minutes passed after she settled on the chair near the window when the door to her bedroom swung open. She turned around in surprise to see Rakesh walk in.

“Appa told me to remove the telephone connection in this room, Sangita,” he stated without remorse.

She just shrugged in reply.

Rakesh unplugged the phone; sat down on the bed and said, “Sangita.”

She turned around to look at him, a question in her eyes.

Rakesh cleared his throat. “Look here, Sangita, I've been worried about you. I should have been in my office half an hour ago. But I thought it best to talk over this matter with you.”

Sangita continued to look at him; trying to guess whose side he was on; hers or their parents. She didn't have long to wonder.

“You have had your chance at marriage, Sangita. Amma and Appa found a wonderful husband for you.” Sangita's lips drooped on hearing this. She just waited for him to finish what he had come to say and get out of her room.

“You didn't make a great success of your marriage, I don't know why. And then, your husband died. That was no fault of ours, Sangita.”

Sangita's mind screamed, 'It was no fault of mine either.'“Today, it's my turn to get married. By a wonderful stroke of luck, Lata has consented to be my wife. You know how rich her family is. Her father is the CEO of PadmaClair Associates. They are highly respected in the society. I'm damned lucky to have landed her as my bride amidst the fierce competition. I have worked long and hard for this prize.” He paused to catch his breath. Sangita looked at him as if to ask why he was telling her all this.

“Now let me come to the point. Lata's father is planning to come home next week to speak to Amma and Appa about my wedding and fix a date. But this news of your second marriage is bound to break my chances. It's not fair, Sangita. You've had your shot at marriage. It's not my fault that it failed. Now it's my turn. Please, I beg you, don't spoil it for me.”

Sangita looked at him askance. How could her marriage to Gautam affect his to Lata's?

“They will most definitely not tolerate their son-in-law's widowed sister's second marriage. Please don't kill my chances, Sangita,” he pleaded once again.

“But Rakesh, please do understand my point of view. I'm just a year elder to you. Can you see any light in my future?” she tried to reason with him.

“I don't care,” he snarled, getting to his feet. “Amma's right. You're absolutely selfish and don't care about anyone but yourself. Raghu's mad to support you. You deserve to be stuck at home without a job.” He left the room, carrying the telephone, slamming the door behind him.

Raghavan came home that evening in a jubilant mood. His parents' long faces didn't deter him one bit. He went up the staircase to his sister's room after beckoning Rekha to join them.

Sangita looked up from her bed where she had been lying down reading Sons of Fortune by Jeffrey Archer. Raghavan gestured to Rekha to close the door behind them before placing a small paper packet in his sister's hands.

“That's from your Gautam,” he said.

She blushed. “What's it?” she asked as she pulled out a mobile phone, letting out a small shriek of delight.

“Your fiancé's attempt to be in touch with you,” smiled Raghavan.

He quickly taught her how to use the instrument and left her alone, taking his wife with him.

A smile lit Sangita's face, looking at the cell phone in her hands. She should have guessed that Gautam would definitely find a way out of the present predicament.

The cell vibrated in her hands and she quickly answered.

“Hi, sweetheart!” came the loving voice in her ear.

“Hi, Gautam. You'd never believe how glad I'm to hear your voice,” she whispered.

“I can very well guess. Just thirteen more days to go, love. Keep calm.”

“I will, Gautam; just for you.”

“I know you must've had a terrible day. I hope it was no worse than what Raghu told me.”

“Well,” Sangita hesitated before telling him briefly about Rakesh's visit to her room. She thought it best that he knew who all he had to fight.

“Which company did you say he works for?”

“PadmaClair Associates. His father-in-law to be, Mr. Padmanabhan, is the CEO. Their company functions with American collaboration. They're big shots, Gautam. Rakesh is bothered that his marriage might not work because of ours,” her voice cracked slightly while saying that. She couldn't believe that it was her own brother who had uttered these words. And he had called her selfish over and above.

“Don't you worry your pretty head about this, sweetheart. Let me take care of you.”

“Hmm.”

“Is that the amount of enthusiasm you can kick up?”

“Oh, Gautam! I miss you too much,” she cried out.

“Sangita! Patience, sweetheart. Shall I come over to meet you, maybe?”

That got exactly the reaction he sought.

“No, no, Gautam. Please don't.”

“Then will you cheer up?”

“Okay.”

“Where's that little son of ours?”

“He's downstairs playing with Ramya. Do you think it will be safe mentioning the phone to him?”

“Sandeep can keep a secret well, Sangita. Please call me when he's back. I'd like to speak to him.”

“Sure.”

“And Sangita, I met my lawyer. The adoption papers should be ready in a couple of days.”

“That's wonderful Gautam. You must have been busy, while I've been lazing around the whole day,” her voice was bitter.

“Sangita!” he cooed in her ear, “call me later?”

“Yeah, I will.”

Sandeep was thrilled with the latest gadget his mother had acquired. He insisted that she called 'his daddy' immediately.

“Daddy!” squealed Sandeep enthusiastically.

“Hi, sonny! How are you?”

“I'm fine, Daddy. When can Mummy and I come to live with you?” Sandeep came directly to the point.

“Very soon, Sandeep. In two weeks, to be exact. Would you like to go to a new school? You'll be having a new name, Sandeep Sinclair.”

“Wow! I like that name, Sandeep Sinclair. And my friends will know that you're my daddy?”

“Most definitely, my son. How's your mom?”

“She's fine, Dad. Only...” Sandeep hesitated, looking at his mother from the corner of his eyes.

“Tell daddy,” encouraged Gautam, worried.

“I don't like the clothes she wears,” burst out Sandeep, much to Sangita's shock. “She wears only white or something dull. I don't like it. Will you buy some nice clothes for her?” he asked his new daddy, his voice wobbly with tears.

Gautam felt sorry that he was so far away. “I don't like them either, Sandeep. Why don't we go shopping and buy some lovely clothes for Mummy?” Sandeep was nodding his head vigorously, making Sangita wonder what Gautam was telling him. “You tell me what your favourite colours are?”

Sandeep didn't wait for a second. “Blue, yellow,” he counted on his fingers.

“Hmm.”

“Red, pink and green. Five colours. Can we buy five dresses for Mummy?”

“Sandeep!” protested Sangita, shocked.

Gautam laughed at the other end. It thrilled him to note that although Sandeep wasn't his by blood, their thoughts ran on the same lines. Their love for Sangita created a strong bond between them. “Sure, darling. We'll buy five and more. Now will you give the phone to your mom?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Sandeep passed the cell to his mother, his eyes shining.

“Gautam, what are you guys planning now? I don't need new clothes.”

“No? You will, very soon, once Sandeep and I have burned every one of your white saris.”

“Gautam!” Sangita was taken aback. “What a waste! I hope you wouldn't do that.”

“Okay then. Let's hand them over to an NGO. No wife of mine will wear them.”

“What if I refuse to part with them?” asked Sangita, feeling a warm glow stealing through her at the possessive note.

“Then I'll just have to go on my knees and beg you, I suppose,” he said, mischief rippling in his voice.

Sangita gurgled with laughter as she imagined him on his knees, at her feet. “What a tempting thought! I think I'll keep my clothes,” she declared.

“We'll see,” he grinned. “And Sangita, my parents, brothers and sister are coming down next week. My elder brother Vikram has an American wife, Dona. They have three adorable kids. Siddarth is my twin and Sara is elder to me by a couple of years. They're thrilled to hear about our wedding and are flying down on Monday.”

Sangita was dazed. She realised that she knew nothing about him or his family except for his grandparents. She told him so.

“Yeah, I guess. No hassles, love. All in time! You can get to know everyone after the wedding and all about my life too.”

“How are your Thatha and Patti?”

“Just fantastic; enjoying themselves thoroughly organising the wedding. Sangita, we have planned a quiet wedding at the Vadapalani Temple on Friday next. I think it's for the best under the circumstances. I, for one, am not keen on a big wedding. I hope you don't mind.”

“Of course not, Gautam. Even a registered wedding would have been fine. But it's your first.”

“How do you know?” he teased.

“Gautam, have you been married before?” she asked seriously.

“Never, my darling. Never before have I felt the urge to tie myself to one woman for the rest of my life.”

“Are you sure now, Gautam?” asked Sangita, her voice a trifle anxious.

“Absolutely, love.”

16

Asha watched the tall stranger walk into the office with an air of confidence. The navy-blue suit with the light-blue shirt and matching tie that he wore seemed to make his blue eyes glow. The attire looked classier because of the dashing man who donned it.

He walked up to her with a smile on his face that almost knocked her sideways.

“Hi!” he greeted her charmingly, reading the name from the I-card she was wearing. “Ms. Asha,” he drawled, putting out his hand in a friendly gesture. “I'm Gautam Sinclair. I've an appointment with your CEO, Mr. Padmanabhan, at 9.30.”

Asha checked the appointment calendar in front of her and nodded. “Yes, Mr. Sinclair. You are early. Mr. Padmanabhan is busy. Let me check.”

“That's perfectly awright, Ms. Asha,” he grinned. He had deliberately walked in twenty minutes early. “Is Rakesh in? I'm an old buddy of his. I'd like to see him if it's possible.”

“He's in, Mr. Sinclair and free right now. Let me buzz him.” She put her hand on the intercom when a tanned hand pressed hers down, stopping her from lifting the receiver.

“There'll be no need for that, Asha. I'd like to surprise him.”

The receptionist was so captivated by the tall stranger by now that she didn't bother to question him. She waved him towards Rakesh's cabin.

Rakesh looked up from the file in front of him, his gaze startled as it alighted on the tall stranger. He got up from his chair automatically, anger burning in him at the other man's unannounced entry.

“Who the hell are you? How did you get in here?” asked Rakesh furiously, reaching for the telephone on his desk to blast the receptionist.

Gautam calmly reached over and pulled the cord out of the machine.

“You bloody son of a...”

“Mind your language, will you?” Gautam's chilled voice ordered him. “You might regret it once you know who I am,” he said angrily.

“Who the hell are you?” Rakesh repeated.

“Gautam Sinclair.”

Rakesh jumped forward from behind his desk and grabbed Gautam's suit jacket.

Gautam pulled Rakesh's hands off his jacket and dusted himself with a disdainful look at his brother-in-law to be.

“Just get out from here, will you? You can't intimidate me. I'll never allow Sangita to marry you. She's a widow, do you hear me? A widow. She'll never marry again. Get out or I'll call security,” he shouted, glaring at Gautam.

If anything, Gautam's eyes turned menacingly colder. He put out both his hands and pulled Rakesh off the floor. The younger man was shaken to find himself a couple of inches above the ground.

Gautam stared at Rakesh and bit out, “I didn't come here seeking your permission. The wedding will definitely take place. Don't even try to make Sangita unhappy.” Saying this, he shoved Rakesh away from him with more force than he had intended. Rakesh fell against his desk. Gautam removed a paper napkin from the holder on the desk and wiped his hands meticulously as if he had touched something filthy. He threw the crushed napkin directly into the dustbin behind Rakesh's chair and without giving him another glance, left the cabin, closing the door behind him.

Asha greeted him with a wide smile, charmed to set eyes on the handsome stranger once again.

“Mr. Padmanabhan is waiting for you, Mr. Sinclair. You may go in.”

“Thank you, Asha,” smiled Gautam before walking into Rakesh's future father-in-law's cabin.

Rakesh had taken only two minutes to adjust his coat and tie before rushing out into the reception area.

“Asha,” he shouted, “where's that Sinclair?”

Asha turned to look at the youngest director of the company, her nose wrinkling in disgust. She didn't much care for him though she tried her best not to show it. Rakesh tended to throw his weight around with all the employees. It was obvious that he thought he was too good for them as he was to become the big boss's son-in-law soon. Most of the people in the company disliked him.

“Mr. Gautam Sinclair?” she asked in confirmation, wondering what had set him in such a tizzy.

“Yeah,” barked Rakesh. “Where's he? And tell me, how did he come into my cabin without any warning? Why did you let him?” He looked at her angrily.

His anger bounced off the receptionist ineffectively. She had great confidence about her efficiency while Padmanabhan always appreciated and honoured his employees. This young upstart who was planning to marry the boss's daughter was no threat to her.

“Mr. Sinclair is with Mr. Padmanabhan. And he told me that he's an old friend of yours. That's why I...”

“Friend of mine?” thundered Rakesh. “Are you crazy? He says that and you just let him in?”

“Well, Mr. Rakesh, sir! I'm sorry if that was inconvenient. He had an appointment with the big boss. I thought...”

Rakesh interrupted her once again. “What? He has an appointment with Pappa?” His eyes turned cunning, wondering what Gautam Sinclair was doing with his future father-in-law. His mind worked fast, finding ways and means to thwart Gautam's plans, as he presumed that the other man should have some, considering that he had come all the way here.

He went back into his cabin, thinking hard.

“I'm also getting married. Next week,” he announced.

Padmanabhan's eyes rounded in surprise. “That soon? Who's the girl? When are Alistair and Swetha coming? What...” He paused when there was a knock on the door. “Come in,” he ordered.

An office boy brought in two mugs of coffee and placed them, one each in front of the two men.

They waited for the boy to leave before saying anything. Gautam gave a cheerful smile to his father's closest friend, before saying, “Sangita. Her name's Sangita. She's a widow with a small son. In fact, her brother Rakesh works...”

Padmanabhan snapped his fingers as it suddenly struck him. “Don't tell me you're talking about my son-in-law's sister Sangita?”

Gautam pretended to be surprised. “Your son-in-law?”

“Well, Rakesh has a widowed sister. Her name is Sangita.”

“And Sangita's brother Rakesh works here, I heard. Are you saying...”

“Exactly!” Padmanabhan interrupted him once again, visibly excited. “This is great! Alistair and I marrying our children into the same family. Congratulations, Gautam! Now Lata and you will be brother and sister by law. I can't ask for anything better.”

Gautam smiled. “Thank you, Uncle,” he said before taking a sip of coffee.

Padmanabhan picked up the intercom once again. “Let me call Rakesh over. He'll be thrilled.”

Gautam's smile widened into a grin on hearing that.

“Rakesh,” Padmanabhan spoke into the phone, “are you free for a few minutes, son? Please come to my cabin. There's someone waiting eagerly to meet you.”

Gautam rolled his eyes towards the ceiling before focusing them on his coffee.

Rakesh knocked on the door before walking in. He turned around to glare at Gautam who was sitting back in his chair, his posture totally relaxed.

He turned around to his future father-in-law and burst out, “Pappa, this...”

“I know, I know, Rakesh. He's engaged to your sister Sangita. You never told me, son. But this is the best bit of news, indeed.” Padmanabhan rubbed his hands in pleasure.

Rakesh looked at him, wondering if senility had caught up with him already. Padmanabhan spoke again before he could respond.

“I too have some terrific news for you, Rakesh. Your future brother-in-law also happens to be your boss.” Rakesh stared at him, his eyes almost popping out of his head. “Yeah, Gautam is fifty percent partner in this business,” Padmanabhan continued with a smile, totally unaware of the effect of his words on Rakesh's blood pressure.

“A silent partner, Uncle,” stressed Gautam.

At this point, a more sensitive person would have probably wished that the floor would open up and swallow him or maybe a bolt of lightning would strike him. But not Rakesh; he had the skin of a pachyderm.

He gave Gautam a surreptitious look, trying to gauge his mood. It was a wasted exercise as the latter was an excellent poker player.

Rakesh turned towards his fiancée's father, who had the look of a merry Santa Claus. Padmanabhan beamed at his future son-in-law.

“Well, Pappa...er...you don't mind?” asked Rakesh in a hesitant voice.

Padmanabhan's eyebrows came together in bewilderment. “Mind? Mind what?” he asked.

“Sangita getting married again,” answered Rakesh, an expression of extreme distaste on his face.

Gautam had a tough time exercising every ounce of his self-control from not socking his fiancée's brother full on his face. He was more pompous than Gautam had envisaged.

Padmanabhan continued to look confused. “Why should I mind Sangita getting married?” he asked. “On the other hand, I'm very happy to know that Lata and Gautam are marrying into the same family,” he declared.

“But, Pappa, Sangita is a...is a widow,” said Rakesh. He said the word 'widow' with extreme disgust as if he was uttering a profanity.

“I'm aware of that,” said Padmanabhan, still not sure what the other man was trying to establish.

Rakesh repeated, “But don't you mind? Don't you mind that your son-in-law's sister, who is a widow, is considering a second marriage?”

Comprehension dawned on the older man's face. He finally realised what Rakesh was trying to say. “Are you saying that it's wrong for Sangita to have another try at marriage?” he asked mildly.

Rakesh nodded his head vigorously, glad that his father-in-law understood what he was getting at. “Yes, Pappa, that's exactly what I am saying. My parents feel strongly about it too,” he said.

Padmanabhan turned to look at Gautam who had been listening to their altercation without contributing to it. He raised his brow at the younger man's smiling face in enquiry.

Gautam shrugged his wide shoulders and nodded his head towards Rakesh, encouraging Padmanabhan to continue the dialogue.

Padmanabhan turned to Rakesh once again. “But, Rakesh, this is the twenty-first century, after all,” his voice was mild, “Widow remarriage is quite common,” he pointed out.

Rakesh stared at his father-in-law. “But sir, all said and done,” he lowered his voice, “Sangita's what you'd call soiled goods, wouldn't...”

He never got to complete the sentence as Gautam got up from his chair forcefully while it crashed against the wall behind him. For the second time in the same number of hours, Gautam pulled Rakesh by his collar and lifted him off the floor.

“You may've forgotten that Sangita's your sister. But do remember that she's your employer's fiancée,” he spat the words from between his teeth, extreme anger in his eyes.

He dumped his brother-in-law unceremoniously and tucking his hands into his trouser pockets, turned towards Padmanabhan.

“I'm extremely sorry about the scene, Uncle. You didn't deserve that,” he said, genuine regret in his voice.

Padmanabhan looked at the angry man in front of him, the respect for his friend's son only increasing. He put out a hand to shake Gautam's. “Just forget that it happened, my boy. And don't you worry about anything. I'm looking forward to attending your wedding to Sangita.”

Gautam thanked him and without sparing a glance at Rakesh, left the CEO's cabin.

Padmanabhan looked at Rakesh and decided that his son-in-law urgently required some sense knocked into him.

Rakesh looked at Padmanabhan defiantly, not quite sure what had hit him.

“Sit down, Rakesh,” invited Padmanabhan.

Rakesh sat on the edge of the chair that was beside the one Gautam had recently vacated.

“Now, tell me, my son, what's your problem with Sangita getting married to Gautam?”

“It's not like that, Pappa. We have nothing against Gautam Sinclair. It's only that Sangita being a widow...” he hesitated, catching the scowl on the older man's face.

“Rakesh, don't you think it's high time you and your family stopped punishing Sangita for her husband's early death? Why should she pay with her wasted life for something that's not her fault?” he asked logically.

“But sir, that's her fate. She was born unlucky. She...”

“That's a load of old wives' tales you are doling out.” Padmanabhan gave an impatient sigh. “Please come into the new millennium, Rakesh,” he said, a mild sarcasm entering his voice.

Rakesh found Padmanabhan's attitude strange. He had a conservative upbringing under the shadow of his parents. He had heard them talk about other people's opinions all the time and also about the importance of holding up one's head in society. He'd never faced any major conflict in his life. He was a teenager when Giridhar died and the repercussions on Sangita's life had never really struck him. Her sorrow never bothered him. And he wasn't a man with a wide imagination. Whatever his parents said suited him just fine.

Recently, his life had turned rosy as he had been basking in his parents' approval for landing a fantastic job with an impressive pay. Over and above, he had won the best prize of all—the hand of the boss's daughter.

From the moment Gautam Sinclair's marriage proposal had been mentioned to Gopal and Radha, they had been continuously brainwashing him that his sister's marriage might jeopardise his own. And whatever they said was gospel to him.

Now he turned to look at his fiancée's father with mystified eyes. “But Pappa, what will the society say about this marriage? It may jolly well be the twenty-first century, but everyone still...”

“Who, according to you, constitutes the society, Rakesh? Do you think the old people who are your neighbours constitute the sum total of the general public? Aren't Gautam's grandparents honoured members of our society? And getting closer to home, wouldn't you call me a part of the society you live in?” the questions came at Rakesh in rapid-fire shots.

“Well sir, that's true. But my parents and I have to live among our neighbours, right?” he asked of his father-in-law, pretty confident that Lata's father would have to agree with him now.

Padmanabhan lost all patience with Rakesh and for a minute wondered whether the young man in front of him was indeed a suitable match for his daughter. He decided that a small amount of blackmail wouldn't come amiss at this juncture.

“Look here, Rakesh, let's get a couple of things clear. Gautam's a director in this company and is also fifty per cent owner. It's true that he's a silent partner and never interferes in the running of PadmaClair Associates. But again, you heard what he had to say; the bit about Sangita being your employer's fiancée.” He paused, convinced that his son-in-law was listening to every word, as the younger man's face paled. Then he continued, “If Gautam decides that he doesn't want you in our company, let me be clear that I'll not stand in his way.” He raised a hand, stopping Rakesh from bursting out in anger. “I'll abide by our partnership. This company can't exist without the support of the Sinclairs, both Gautam and his father Alistair.”

“Now, on the personal front, I'll not renege on my promise to make you my son-in-law. But,” he raised his hand once again to stop Rakesh from interrupting, “I'll allow the marriage to take place only when you have an equal or a better job. And, that, my son, I very much doubt, especially after you have managed to invite Gautam's wrath.”

Padmanabhan surreptitiously crossed his fingers as he exaggerated Gautam's reactions to the situation. Gautam had yet to allow someone to thwart him before seeking his revenge on them. But then, Rakesh didn't know that.

Padmanabhan had stopped talking. But Rakesh, who had tried to interrupt the older man twice, seemed to have lost his voice. He stared at his fiancée's father, not knowing what to say. He was well and truly cornered with no escape but to agree to Sangita's wedding. It never struck him that the marriage would take place anyway.

Not knowing whom to turn to for help, he decided to take support from his boss.

“Sir,” he said hesitantly, his eyes pleading, “you don't know my parents. They are against this marriage. How...”

“Don't you worry about that, my son. If I know Ganapathi, the marriage will take place as scheduled.”

“But Pappa,” said Rakesh, a scowl marring his brow, “Appa and Amma will never agree.”

“Why don't you sit back and watch the fun, Rakesh? It's a rare opportunity to watch the mastermind at work,” smiled Padmanabhan, recalling Ganapathi's determined and daring attitude.

17

Sangita had slipped into a fitful slumber when her phone rang.

She woke up with a start to answer it. Her eyes automatically looked towards the other cot where her son was sprawled on his stomach, fast asleep, his lips slightly parted.

A smile lit her face as she said, “Hello,” knowing fully well who was at the other end. It was one o' clock in the morning.

“Hi!” cooed the sexy voice right into her ear. “Miss me?”

“Oh yeah,” groaned Sangita, “very much. How are you?”

“Why don't you come up to your terrace and find out?”

A few seconds passed before Sangita understood what he was saying. At least she thought she did. She got out of her bed with a jerk. “What are you saying, Gautam?” she asked, her voice a stunned whisper, “are you outside the gate?”

“Why don't you come up and find out?” he asked cheerily. A pair of blue eyes bright with laughter and a dimpled cheek taunted Sangita's imagination as she raced up the staircase leading to her terrace, trying her best to be as quiet as possible.

The door was open, to her surprise. She closed it cautiously behind her, her heart beating like a drum in the quiet of the night.

And there, standing in front of her, silhouetted against the light coming from the street lamps, was her soon-to-be husband, his teeth gleaming white against the darkness of the night, as he grinned at her.

She flew into his waiting arms, not bothering to find the whys and wherefores that had led to his presence on the terrace at that time of the night.

“Gautam,” she sighed as she looked up into his face, her arms sneaking up his shoulders to twine around his neck.

“Sangita,” came the tortured acknowledgement as Gautam swooped down to capture her lips in a sizzling kiss.

Silence reigned as the two clung together, trying to make up for the past week when they hadn't set eyes on each other.

When they finally came up for air, she buried her face against his broad chest, her arms tightly wound around his waist.

Gautam pressed his lips against her ear, his tongue tracing the curves. “So tell me,” he whispered, “how are you?”

“Okay,” came the muffled reply.

He ran his hand in a caress against her head. As he moved lower, he felt her braid. “What's this?” came the low growl, “what've you done to your hair?” he asked impatiently, desperate to run his hands through it.

She raised her head to look at his frowning face, her own alight with joy. She removed her arms from his waist to pull her braid apart. Her hands trembled as she felt his lips against her throat, his tongue flicking at the pulse beating there.

“Gautam!”

“Hmm.” His lips moved to the curve of her jaw, his fingers buried in her hair which was loose now, as he framed her face in his large hands, his head dipping once again to kiss her lips.

Sangita's hands gripped his forearms. He controlled his passion with difficulty when he felt the tug on his arms as she tried hard to prise his hands from her face.

He raised his head to look at her, his hands leaving her hot face to move down her back and settle on her hips as he held her slender body against his own.

Sangita braced her hands against his chest, pushing away from him. Gautam watched the play of emotions on her face with satisfaction. Her long, thick hair came down on her shoulders to fall further along her back, touching his hands as they lay on her hips. Her eyes were shining in the faint moonlight, despite the effort she put in to frown up at him. Her lips were parted, her breath coming in short gasps as a result of the kisses they had shared.

His eyes moved lower down to see her breasts heaving with the deep breaths she was taking to bring down her pulse rate without much success.

Sangita saw his gaze moving lower and felt a jolt through her nerves as her nipples perked to attention. She was shocked at her own reaction. Her breasts throbbed as their tips hardened to push against her thin nightie.

Gautam watched her body's reaction as his own tightened in response. His left hand firmed on her hip as his right climbed up her waist on its way to cup her left breast.

Sangita guessed his intention and panicked. She caught hold of his rising hand and pressed herself against his body, frightened of herself. But the shock was worse.

Her breasts suddenly appeared to have a life of their own. Her nipples got impossibly hard as they came in contact with his firm chest. Sangita moaned softly as she lost control over her treacherous body.

Her breasts ached in desire. But she was clear that she didn't want Gautam to touch them. Images of Giridhar crushing them painfully flashed in her mind and she whimpered.

Gautam gave a frustrated sigh as he squeezed his arms around her waist. So near and yet so far! For a moment there he had been sure that Sangita was going to allow his intimate touch. But now it looked as if she had remembered her first husband. He cursed silently, not having the heart to hurt her more.

“Sweetheart, look at me,” he implored.

Sangita raised her face to look at him, her eyes glazed with a combination of fear and an undercurrent of spent passion. He ached to sweep away the memories of her marriage to Giridhar in one stroke.

But Gautam realised that he needed time and patience for that job. He looked at his fiancée tenderly; his eyes alight with adoration, his hands caressing her hair soothingly.

“Don't be afraid of me, Sangita. I'll never hurt you,” he promised.

Sangita gave a small nod. “I know.” She didn't tell him that she was more scared of her reaction than him.

Holding her tightly against his body with his left arm, Gautam reached inside his jeans' pocket to remove a jewellers' box and gave it to Sangita.

She looked at him in surprise. “Go on, open it,” ordered Gautam.

She pressed the catch and the lid sprung open to reveal the most exquisite diamond ring Sangita had ever seen. There were seven small diamonds in all, in the shape of a flower, six around and one in the centre. They shone brilliantly in the moonlight, sparkling with an inner fire.

She gasped in delight as Gautam removed it from its velvet bed to place it on the ring finger of her left hand.

“There, that's made you my fiancée, officially,” he said, a note of triumph in his voice. He lifted her hand to kiss it gently.

“Thank you, Gautam, I've never had an engagement ring before. I'm overwhelmed. It's fantastic,” whispered Sangita, joy and awe on her face.

“But of course, it's for the most beautiful woman on this earth,” he said as he stole a kiss unexpectedly.

“Gautam!” Sangita's voice was impatient. “Are you sure you're okay? Don't keep calling me beautiful. That's not true,” she said vehemently.

The blue eyes took fire as his temper flamed. “I don't lie,” he bit out.

“But,” Sangita's eyes clouded in confusion, “I'm not beautiful,” she pointed out.

“Says who?” he spat.

“Well,” she looked at him warily, a trifle worried about bringing up her first husband's name. But then he had been the only other man she had known. “Giridhar thought...”

“I don't wanna know that damn fool's opinion. Anyway, what does a louse know about a woman's beauty?” he asked sarcastically.

Sangita agreed wholeheartedly that Giridhar was a louse. But she knew she wasn't beautiful. Presentable, may be, but definitely not a beauty. Gautam was mistaken, she was sure.

It didn't occur to her that each time she looked in the mirror she recalled Giridhar abusing her body and just hated the sight of it. She was unaware of her own attractiveness.

She decided to change the subject and suddenly remembered where they were.

“Gautam,” she raised accusing eyes to his face, “How come you're here? I told you not to come. It's so dangerous. I suppose you climbed over from the front. You could have fallen down. You...”

Gautam bent down and kissed her into silence as he couldn't get a word in edgeways.

He lifted his head to look at her in mirth. “How I wish I could play Romeo to your Juliet! But sadly, I'm not a teenager anymore.” He shook his head at her. “I didn't climb over the wall. I...”

“Then how did you get here?” Sangita was even more taken aback by his reply.

Gautam laughed. “Patience, my darling. Why don't you let me tell you?” He paused before saying, “Rakesh let me into the house and I walked up to the terrace. Sorry to disappoint you but there's no romantic daredevilry there.”

“But, but...” spluttered Sangita, “Rakesh let you in?” she asked, sure she'd heard him wrong.

“Yeah, sweetheart, it was your dear younger brother who let me in.”

“But, he's so against my getting married. How could he have let you in?” she asked, puzzled.

“It's a long story. Tell you some other day. Suffice to say that he's on our side.”

“But that's wonderful, Gautam. How did you manage it?” she asked in admiration.

Glad to have made her happy, Gautam bent down to remove some papers from the backpack he had kept against the wall and gave them to Sangita.

“That's the document for Sandeep's adoption. Read it through before signing. I'll collect it tomorrow.”

“Oh!” Sangita was surprised that he had completed the paperwork so fast. “I don't need to read it. I'll sign it right now. Don't risk coming tomorrow, Gautam, please,” she requested.

“What's the risk, sweetheart? Don't you want to meet me again?” he asked.

Sangita looked at him lovingly and smiled.

The document slipped from her hands as she closed the small distance between them to hold him once again.

He pulled out of her embrace and said, “I hate to leave you, my dear, but I don't think my younger brother-in-law would be too happy losing sleep.”

“What?” shrieked Sangita, “where?” She looked around her in panic.

Gautam laughed softly. “Not here, silly. He's waiting downstairs in the hall, keeping a lookout for your parents.”

“Oh!” Sangita wondered what kind of magic Gautam had woven over Rakesh to get him to stand guard for them.

“Yeah, oh!” smiled Gautam as he turned her towards the door. He lifted the papers and handed them to Sangita. Picking his backpack, he said, “You go down first. I'll leave immediately after.”

Sangita nodded before stepping forward, bereft without his arms around her.

The same arms suddenly sneaked from behind to pull her against him once more. She tilted her head against his shoulder as he crushed her lips in a passionate kiss. Then he pushed her from him roughly and said, “Go. Now. Before I carry you away with me.”

Sangita fled.

After a few minutes, she heard the front door open and close before a motorbike's soft engine glided down the road.

18

The next day, Gautam called at about 10 o'clock to speak to Rekha. Sangita gave the cell to her sister-in-law, feeling curious.

“Hello, Rekha, this is Gautam. We've ne'er met. How do you do?” he asked cheerfully.

“I'm fine, thank you,” replied Rekha, in her soft voice. “Congratulations! I heard you're getting married on October 5th. Who's the bride? Anyone I know?” she teased, her dark eyes glittering with amusement as she eyed Sangita's blushing face.

A shout of laughter echoed down the cell phone. “Thank you! I'd like to meet you,” he said. “Today actually. I plan to take Sandeep out for lunch and shopping. Since Sangita can't leave the house, I thought...” he hesitated.

“Will 12 p.m. be okay with you? Sandeep's school van drops him at that time. That'll be at the end of the road on the left. I go to pick him and Ramya at that time.”

“That'll be perfect, Rekha. I'll meet you there. I'm quite tall...”

“That's no problem. Your fiancée has described you too many times for me not to recognise you.” If anything, Sangita's face grew redder.

“Oh!” startled at first, Gautam felt nice on hearing her words. “All complimentary, I hope,” he said, tongue-in-cheek.

“Hmm… let me see. I've known Sangita for the past five and a half years. I've never heard her speak about a man. But from the day she met you, my ears have been reeling with Gautam this, Gautam that. Not that I'm complaining...”

“Manni,” screeched Sangita before grabbing the phone from her. Rekha shook with laughter as she let go of the phone with a wink.

Gautam guessed that the cell had changed hands at Sangita's shriek.

He cleared his throat loudly. “Well,” he drawled. “I'm absolutely curious. What have you been telling Rekha?” he asked, his voice tinged with amusement.

“Why, nothing,” she said, hoping he'd drop the subject.

“Nothing? I'm devastated. Here I was thinking you'd have told her how dashing a personality I have, how the intelligence shines out of my eyes, and blah blah.” His hilarity grew with each sentence he uttered.

“Very funny,” she said, walking away from the kitchen.

Rekha waited at the kerb for the school van to arrive at five minutes to twelve. She saw the silver-grey Honda City pull up and stepped closer to get her first look at the man who had so obviously captured Sangita's heart. She watched the tall, brown-haired man step out of the driver's seat and immediately recognised him.

He locked the car and walked forward, his gait relaxed as he studied the faces of the women who were waiting there to collect the kids.

Rekha moved forward, a welcoming smile on her face, her hand outstretched.

“Hi!” Gautam smiled in return as he took her hand in his warm grip, and shook it firmly.

Rekha eyed the dimple on his right cheek and her smile widened. “One dimple on right cheek, check. You're Gautam,” she said.

Gautam grinned, his teeth white against his tanned face, shining in the afternoon sunlight. “Very glad to meet you at last. And thank you so much, Rekha, for everything.”

Rekha nodded. “You're not going to get away with just a word of thanks. I expect a special treat.”

Amusement flared in Gautam's face as he watched the mischief in the pixie-like face in front of him.

“Most definitely. A party in your honour at the...” his eyes were half closed in thought, “maybe the Southern Aromas at Residency Towers, or” he drawled, “Dakshin at Park Sheraton. You decide,” he said, very seriously.

Rekha was startled. “Hey, I was just teasing. I...” she stuttered, embarrassed.

Gautam smiled gently. “Relax, Rekha, I guessed. But I definitely owe you one.”

Rekha gave him a look of relief before turning to watch out for the school van that was turning around the corner.

That was when she noticed the other women eyeing her curiously. She mentally shrugged her shoulders. Time things were out in the open. And Rekha was definitely not one to be scared of public opinion.

The children came out from the van, their eyes searching for their respective parents. Ramya and Sandeep got off one behind the other and caught sight of Gautam standing beside Rekha.

“Gautam Uncle,” shouted Ramya, as she ran forward.

“Daddee...” squealed Sandeep as he ran faster, flinging himself into Gautam's waiting arms. Gautam was totally oblivious to the curious stares as he enveloped his brand-new son in a warm hug, kissing him on his forehead.

He lifted his head to look down at the small, intense face. A gush of fierce, protective love flowed through him.

Sandeep threw his arms around his daddy's neck and held on tightly as he planted a kiss on his rugged cheek. He was so thrilled that after all these months his parent was waiting at the bus stop to collect him.

“Hi, kiddo, howdy-do?” asked Gautam.

Sandeep nodded his head like an adult, his voice lost temporarily in his excitement. Gautam ruffled his hair before turning towards Ramya to pull her into his hug.

She shyly moved into his arms as Gautam said, “Hi, Ramya.”

“Hello, Uncle. Where's Butterscotch?” she asked.

“He's home, having his afternoon nap, the lazybones,” he laughed down at the little girl in pigtails who resembled her aunt so much.

“Oh!” there was disappointment in her voice.

“Tell you what,” said Gautam, “give me a couple of days and I'll get Butterscotch to meet you. Is that fine?” he asked, as he tugged gently at one pigtail.

Ramya gave him another shy smile as she nodded her head vigorously before turning to her mother.

“Mummy, this is Gautam Uncle,” she introduced.

“Yeah, I know, sweetie, I just met him. Do you know something?” she asked, her voice extra loud, “Gautam Uncle and Sangita Athai are getting married.”

The small group of inquisitive onlookers who hadn't left the area even though the school van had gone, gave each other startled looks, shock writ on their faces.

Gautam gently removed Sandeep's backpack and handed it over to Rekha apologetically. “Sorry I'm dumping this on you.”

“Come on, Gautam, that's okay,” said Rekha as she took the bag in one hand and took Ramya's hand in the other.

“How'd you like to go shopping with me?” asked Gautam to his son, running his fingers through his dark hair affectionately.

Rekha left the scene, confident that her nephew was in safe hands.

Sandeep's eyes lit up, his gaze fixed on the tall man beside him. “For Mummy?” he asked.

Gautam grinned as he lifted the boy into his arms, “Yeah, and for sonny, too.”

“I've eight dresses, Daddy,” said Sandeep, counting on his fingers.

Gautam laughed as he walked to the car. “Well, my son, you'll need some new clothes for the wedding and reception, right?” he asked.

“For Ramya too?” asked Sandeep innocently.

“Sure, for Ramya too,” said his father.

“Yay, wow!” yelled Sandeep.

Gautam opened the door on the driver's side and helped his son into the car.

Sandeep stared at the gear and steering wheel curiously and asked Gautam, “Will you teach me to drive?”

“Sure, sweetheart.”

“When?”

“When you're twelve years old.”

“Oh!” Sandeep was disappointed. Twelve years seemed so far away to the five-year-old.

“Now tell me,” said Gautam, shifting him to the passenger seat and seating himself in the driver's. He buckled the safety belt around the little boy. “What do you want for lunch?”

“Paratha.” Sandeep was clear. Gautam drove to the shopping hub at Pondy Bazaar and parked the car in front of Rangoli, a North-Indian speciality restaurant.

The two of them had a wonderful time eating parathas with cholé while Sandeep guzzled down a rose milkshake. His eyes shone brightly as he took in the air-conditioned atmosphere of the restaurant. Sandeep glowed with a sense of pride at having a father by his side, a novel experience for him.

Gautam helped the little boy wash and wipe his hands before the two of them left the restaurant.

Gautam parked the car at Panagal Park and the two of them walked for a few minutes. Sandeep skipped along beside the tall man jabbering nineteen to a dozen.

Gautam answered all his questions patiently, enjoying the time he was spending with Sangita's child.

They first purchased clothes for Sandeep and Ramya. Sandeep's excitement was contrasted by Gautam's calm as he helped the child choose four sets of clothes. The new formal trousers and jacket made Sandeep hoot with glee. He had never owned a pair of full-length pants before.

Buying Ramya's clothes was easier since Gautam could make decisions regarding those quite fast. Once Sandeep ensured that his father was buying something for his cousin, he lost interest in the whole matter.

Their next stop was Nalli's. Here, Sandeep sat down soberly while the salesman removed a glittering array of Kancheepuram saris. There were all the colours of the rain-bow and the shades in between. Sandeep's eyes sparkled as he watched the salesman open them one by one to display the contrasting border and pallu which were heavily embroidered in gold zari.

Father and son approved of four saris. The first was a vibrant orange with a maroon border and pallu. It had the traditional embroidery of swans or the Annapakshi border.

The second one was in peacock blue with a bright pink border and pallu with peacock motifs embroidered in gold zari.

Then there was one with a bright maroon body with a bottle green border and pallu. This was covered with the traditional golden zari checks all over.

The last was Gautam's favourite. His eyes gleamed as he imagined the sari draped over his wife-to-be. His thoughts took a further step forward as he fantasised taking it off her.

The sari was a deep shade of mauve shot with a brilliant pink resulting in a double shade. The sari shimmered and danced in the bright lights from the ceiling as the salesman turned it over and over again once he realised that the customer was almost hooked.

Gautam paid the bill without batting an eyelid. He couldn't wait to see Sangita's reaction.

But then—his face fell—that wasn't possible just yet. He looked at his watch. It was past three. He had better get Sandeep home. The child must be tired.

He looked down at Sandeep. He wasn't skipping along any more but walking sedately. Gautam transferred all the parcels to his left hand before ruffling Sandeep's head. The little boy lifted sleepy eyes to him.

“Just a while longer, Sandeep, and you'll be home.”

Sandeep gave a small nod. They reached the car. Gautam opened the door and placed the parcels on the back seat before lifting the sleepy child and placing him on the passenger seat. He got into the car and started the AC. Then he called on Sangita's mobile. Sandeep was fast asleep by now.

“Hello,” her voice was disturbed.

“Sangita, is something wrong, sweetheart? You sound upset.”

Sangita hesitated. Her mother had been ranting and raving since she had realised that Sandeep hadn't come home with Ramya and Rekha. No one had said anything but she had correctly guessed that the child's disappearance had something to do with Gautam.

“Just the usual,” she made light of the matter. “Tell me, where are you guys?”

Gautam couldn't glean much from her tone of voice. Her mother, he guessed. The charm seemed to have gone out of the afternoon.

“We're at T. Nagar,” he said in a quiet voice. “Sandeep's fast asleep. I'm just bringing him home. Do you think you or Rekha can come and take him from outside your gate?”

Sangita thought on her feet. She had been worrying about the scene that would unfold if Gautam brought Sandeep to their door. She decided fast.

“Gautam, can you do me a favour, please? Will it be possible for you to take Sandeep to your place? I'll ask Raghu to pick him up in the evening. That is,” she hesitated, “if I'm not imposing on you,” she finished, her voice uncertain.

“Don't be silly, sweetheart. He's my son too, or have you forgotten? Now don't you dare think it's an imposition. Of course Sandeep can come home with me. In fact, Thatha and Patti will only be too happy to spoil him rotten. Let Raghu pick him up any time. Or I can bring him over later.”

“No, Gautam, that won't be necessary. Raghu will bring him back. And Gautam...”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Thank you so much,” Sangita's voice wobbled with emotion. This was the first time she felt that there was someone to share the responsibility of her son.

“Just shuddup, will you? I've a good mind to come over and seal your lips with mine till you're ready to withdraw your thanks,” he threatened softly, visualising her blushing face in his mind's eye.

“Now that's an interesting thought,” her voice was suddenly mischievous. “So when do you plan to execute your threat? You can't come tonight. Not after whisking Sandeep away for the afternoon,” she gurgled.

“Are you challenging me, ma'am? Do you want to wait and see? I'll come over…”

Sangita panicked. “No, Gautam, please. Not tonight. Please don't come tonight.”

Gautam smiled as he leaned back into the driver's seat. “I won't come if you promise not to thank me every time I do something for you. Do I have your word?” he asked.

“And miss out on the wonderful remedy you have for that? No way,” she flirted shyly.

Gautam's soft laughter warmed her heart and chased goose pimples down her spinal cord. Sangita shivered in response. How she wished that he wasn't so far away.

“I hope you ne'er stop thanking me, ever,” he said. “Now I'll have to switch the phone off, sweetheart. Sandeep's fast asleep. I'd better get him home. See you soon, love.”

“Bye, Gautam and take care,” said Sangita.

19

Sandeep woke up on the couch in Gautam's sitting room. He got up, rubbing his eyes, curious about his strange surroundings.

Gautam had been working on his computer when he heard his son waking up. It was past five.

“Good evening, darling. Did you sleep well?” he asked, opening his arms wide to hug the little boy.

Sandeep went willingly into his father's arms. Gautam lifted him and carried him to the bathroom. He then helped him wash his eyes and towelled him dry.

“Hungry?”

Sandeep nodded, unusually sober. He had started missing his mother, now that she was home every day when he returned from his kindergarten.

They went down to the dining room where Gautam toasted a few slices of bread on which he lavishly spread butter and mixed fruit jam. Sandeep ate them greedily while Ramanna brought him a mug of Bournvita.

“Ramanna, this is my son Sandeep,” he introduced.

Ramanna was aware of the developments in the family and hence showed no surprise as he happily shook the small hand.

“And Sandeep, this is Ramanna Thatha. He cooks yummy food for us.”

Sandeep gave him a shy smile. “Will Ramanna Thatha make food when Mummy and I come to live here?” he asked.

Gautam smiled as he said, “Yes, darling, he will.”

The child gave the old man another smile just as he heard a bark outside.

“Butterscotch!” his eyes shone in delight. He finished his snack and rubbed his hands on the towel Gautam gave him before running out to greet the Labrador.

The kid and dog frolicked in the lawn for the next hour. Sandeep's exuberant laughter cheered up the atmosphere and warmed the hearts of the old couple who stepped out of the car that had brought them back from the temple.

Gautam was sitting on the top step that led down to the lawn, his posture relaxed, sipping a mug of coffee. His lips were tilted in a wide smile as he watched the antics of Sandeep and Butterscotch as they gambolled on the damp grass.

Soon Ganapathi and Vimala joined Gautam.

“That's Sangita's son,” declared Ganapathi without a shade of doubt in his voice.

“And mine too.” There was a possessive note in Gautam's voice as he looked at his grandfather's twinkling eyes. He took Vimala's hand in his as he said, “That's Sandeep, Patti, my son.

”Vimala smiled tenderly at Gautam. She was relieved to see her grandson so happy. The dark days seemed to have gone forever.

“Daddy,” Sandeep came running over. He felt a sudden urge to speak to his mother. But seeing the elderly couple, he hesitated. His exposure to grandparents hadn't exactly been very joyful.

“Sandeep,” Gautam gestured to his son to come closer. “These are my Thatha and Patti. Your Kollu Thatha and Kollu Patti, okay?”

Sandeep eyed his new relatives warily, equating them with his own grandparents.

Vimala put out her arms to him. “Come here, darling. Let me hug you.” She held him close and lifted his chin to study his face. “You look so much like your mummy, Sandeep. So handsome too,” she smiled.

A small smile lit up Sandeep's face. He liked his Kollu Patti's warm hug. And she obviously knew his mother.

“You know my Mummy?” he put his thoughts into words.

“Of course, my dear. I knew her even before you were born.”

“Oh!” Sandeep's eyes rounded in surprise. He settled comfortably on Vimala's lap much to her delight and turned towards Ganapathi.

Ganapathi put out his hand to shake the boy's. “Hello, Sandeep. How would you like to come live in this house with all of us?” There was a tender smile in Ganapathi's eyes.

“Will you beat me? I'll be a good boy, I promise. I'll not break anything. Please don't beat me,” he said pathetically. Gopal had a tendency to raise his hand at the least excuse. When they had just one TV, Gopal and Radha always insisted on watching soap operas while the kids were keen to see cartoons. Gopal never hesitated to give Sandeep or Ramya a tight slap if they insisted on watching their favourite channel. And that was just one example of his cruel nature.

Ganapathi had a difficult time holding the smile that threatened to disappear from his face. “Of course not, little one. I'll never beat you,” he promised solemnly, holding his temper in check. He lifted a hand to comb the little boy's hair away from his forehead.

“And you, Kollu Patti,” Sandeep looked at Vimala seriously, “you'll not box my ears?”

Vimala controlled her tears valiantly, dragging the child into a fierce hug. “Never, my darling,” she promised.

Sandeep pulled back to look at the two of them. “I like you,” he declared. Then he turned to Gautam, “Daddy, can I talk to Mummy?”

“Sure, son.” Gautam didn't bother to correct his language. All that would come later. He had to first recover from the shock that a five-year-old child got beaten by his grandfather. His eyes were spitting flames as they met Vimala's.

Gautam pulled out his phone from his pocket, dialled Sangita's number, and handed it over to Sandeep.

Sandeep ran down to sit on the grass beside Butterscotch who was lying there, tongue hanging out, cooling down after the game. Sandeep wanted his mother to hear the Lab bark. The canine obliged him with great delight.

Ganapathi placed a comforting hand over his favourite grandson's forearm. The muscles were bunched up in tension. “Relax, my boy. Not long now,” he said soothingly.

Gautam's tension reduced some. He looked at his grandfather. “Why don't you and Patti open a school on parenting and grandparenting?” he asked.

Vimala gave him a tremulous smile in reply. She was shaken by Sandeep's words. She wowed then and there to make him forget his unhappy times.

Raghavan arrived at Shraddanjali at seven o' clock. Sandeep had finished his dinner, thanked Ramanna and complimented him on his cooking.

Raghavan greeted the grandparents and apologised to Gautam about the delay.

Gautam smiled at his brother-in-law to be. “Not at all, Raghu. If it was in my hands, I wouldn't send him back at all,” he said, careful not to let Sandeep understand him.

Raghavan gave Gautam a startled look before smiling in agreement. He drank the coffee that Ramanna served before getting up to take their leave.

“Give me a minute,” said Gautam before running up to his room to get the matching blouse pieces for Sangita's saris along with Sandeep's and Ramya's clothes.

He gave the parcel to Raghavan and requested him to give it to Sangita.

“Sure, Gautam.”

Raghavan and Sandeep left in a flurry of goodbyes and the little boy chattered all the way home to his uncle about his shopping spree.

Radha wanted to blast her grandson for going away with Gautam. She was standing near the entrance, wondering what was keeping him, unaware that her own son had gone to pick up his nephew.

Her face grew red as she saw Sandeep getting out of his uncle's car.

“Where were you all this long?” she snarled as her hand rose to box his ear.

Sandeep moved out of her reach. “I went to my great grandparents' house,” he declared. “I'm going to live there with Mummy very soon. They have promised not to beat me or box my ears. So you don't touch me, okay? I hate you,” he said vehemently, before running up the staircase as fast as he could, leaving a fuming Radha speechless.

Rekha greeted her husband, her eyes twinkling with mirth at Sandeep's words, keeping an otherwise straight face.

Raghavan gave her a small smile in return before handing her the packet from Gautam, indicating with his eyes that it was meant for Sangita.

Rekha gave him a small nod. They didn't utter a single word, not wanting to trigger off the time bomb that was ticking away in the hall.

20

The date was October 1, the time 9.45 pm. Ganapathi, Vimala and Gautam were waiting at the lounge of Anna International Airport. They were waiting to receive Alistair Sinclair and the rest of his family who were arriving from Washington DC.

Gautam was striding around restlessly while his grandparents were seated calmly, talking to each other. He was the first one to catch sight of his father, his tall frame with blonde-grey hair towering over his mother, Swetha, who he held by the elbow.

A grin split Gautam's face as he caught sight of the rest of the family behind them. He moved forward to hug his parents fondly.

Alistair caught sight of his parents-in-law and went over to greet them with wife in tow. Vikram, who was the eldest and older than Gautam by three years, caught him in a bear hug.

“Congrats, buddy! You do look like the cat's that got the canary. Where's the bride-to-be?” he looked behind Gautam searchingly.

His brother shrugged his wide shoulders and said, “Thanks, boss. You'll get to meet Sangita in a couple of days.” He bent down to kiss Dona's soft cheek as she grinned at him.

“Hey brother-in-law, where've you hidden her?”

Gautam winked at her. “Well,” he drawled cheekily, “I wanted to hide her from my lecherous brothers. Do you blame me?”

Dona rolled her eyes in acknowledgement. “I know watcha mean.”

Gautam turned around as he felt a small fist punching his muscular arm. “Sara! My darling sis!” he hugged her close. “As gorgeous as ever.” He kissed her on top of her tawny head.

“Congrats bro! Where's my sis to be?” she asked.

Gautam's face felt stiff keeping up the pretence. He'd never needed to be false with his family before. “Sangita's family is conservative, Sara. They weren't too keen on letting her out with me so late at night,” he said.

Sara's eyebrows almost disappeared behind the fringe of hair lying on her forehead. Her eyes seemed to ask, 'and when has that ever bothered you before, my dear bro?' But she didn't saying anything and let it go at that.

Gautam felt a sharp slap on his back and turned around to greet the baby of the family. Siddarth, his almost identical twin, was younger to him by seven minutes.

“Sid!” The brothers hugged each other. The Sinclair family was a close-knit one. And the twins had been inseparable until Gautam decided to settle in India.

Siddarth felt a slight desperation in his twin's hold and placing his hands on Gautam's shoulders, moved away to look at his face. Both men were exactly the same height and had identical hair and skin colour. Only Siddharth's eyes were jet black like their mother's.

Sid studied his twin's face and deduced that all wasn't hunky dory. Gautam guessed his intentions even before he opened his mouth and stopped him from saying anything, giving an imperceptible shake of his head.

He felt a tug on his shorts and looked down to see his adorable nephew and niece staring up at him.

Dominic was six and Vera two and a half. Gautam went on his knees to hug them close. He was rewarded with a loud, wet kiss from Vera while Dom exclaimed, “Yuck, that's sissy,” as he shook his uncle's hand like a grown up.

Gautam was meeting them almost after nine months. He said, “But you guys have become so tall. How's little Sheena?” He turned around to look at one-year-old Sheena who was fast asleep in her pram, her thumb tucked securely into her mouth.

His immediate emotion was one of envy. He wished to have a daughter with Sangita! He shook his head to clear it of these thoughts as he helped his brothers collect their luggage.

He went to his mother who had been looking out for him. A bright smile lit her petite features. Gautam placed an arm around her shoulders and said, “So, Mom, how's it coming back to Madras after two years?”

“It's been that long, hasn't it? Time seems to be flying. Now you tell me, where've you hidden my new daughter? I was so looking forward to meeting her. And where's this grandson of mine? I hear he's about the same age as Dom here.”

“All in good time, Mummy dear. Let's get us all home first.”

They reached Shraddanjali in half an hour.

The kids were fed and put to bed while the others relaxed over coffee after the sumptuous dinner lovingly prepared by Ramanna.

Ganapathi updated the family of the actual circumstances in his typical, blunt fashion.

“Well, Alistair, the situation's like this. Sangita's parents are dead set against the wedding. They are very old fashioned and feel that their widowed daughter should never remarry. Given half the chance, they would like to have Gautam arrested and behind bars, only the law's not in their favour.”

There was surprise on everyone's face except Siddarth's who had come to know about the situation from his twin a short while back.

“But Pappa, didn't you try talking to these people personally?” asked Alistair. He knew how determined his father-in-law could be when required.

“Do you think I haven't? Last evening, Vimala and I went to meet Sangita's parents. They behaved abominably.” Ganapathi told them briefly of his unsuccessful visit.

At about 5.30 in the evening, Vimala and Ganapathi knocked at the door of Sangita's residence.

The door was opened by Rekha who invited them in and showed them the sofa. Gopal was already seated there while Radha stepped out from the kitchen. Sangita sat on the top step of the staircase, feeling too nervous to come down.

Aware of the impending visit, Rekha had shut the kids in her room in front of the TV. Raghavan and Rakesh weren't home yet.

Gopal raised his head from the Ananda Vikatan he had been reading and looked at the guests without so much as a smile on his face.

“Do sit down. Rekha,” he called to his daughter-in-law, “bring some coffee.”

Rekha went into the kitchen to follow his order, one ear cocked to the happenings in the drawing room.

“So, Ganapathi, how are you?” asked Gopal, extra polite.

“I'm fine, Gopal. How are you and Radha?”

“We are okay, I suppose. Anyway, as fine as an old couple with disobedient children and especially a young, widowed daughter,” he said bitterly.

Radha sat back to allow her husband to do the talking after giving Vimala a curt nod.

“Well, how's Sangita?” asked Ganapathi, taking the bull directly by the horns.

“As if you don't know,” snarled Gopal. “I'm sure that fellow who's your grandson must be keeping you updated. He's turned my foolish daughter's head with so many false promises. This stupid girl also has no sense of shame. Thinks she can marry once again. I'm not able to show my face out in the streets. People are laughing at me.” His voice had steadily risen while Rekha waited in the kitchen for the right moment to make her entry with the coffee.

Ganapathi looked at Gopal calmly. “Listen to me, Gopal,” he began in a placating voice, “Sangita's so young and beautiful. Don't you think it's very unfair wasting her life...”

Radha couldn't sit quiet any longer and jumped to her feet to interrupt him rudely. “This is exactly what we had always feared. Her beauty attracting men like bees to honey. Do you remember?” she pointed her right index finger accusingly at Ganapathi, “Do you remember how much Gopal and I tried to have her head shaved after Giridhar's death? In fact, Athai was so insistent. But you,” her finger shook in fury as she glared at him, her eyes spitting venom, “you argued against it and stopped it. And now, your own grandson has the audacity to ask for her hand in marriage!” Her chest heaved with the effort it cost her not to scream the place down. “And he's half American; not even a Brahmin. Just what do you people think of yourselves? Interfering in our family affairs! We aren't standing at your doorstep begging for alms. We're leading a respectable life here and now you're trying to wreak havoc. Just how dare you?” she shouted, her stance agitated.

Vimala turned to look at Sangita who stood up in protest. She gently shook her head, stopping the words that trembled on the younger woman's lips. Sangita raised a shaking hand to wipe the perspiration that had beaded on her forehead and upper lip. She couldn't help wondering what would happen to her life.

Gautam's face rose in her mind, bringing a sense of calm. She sat down once again on the top step, while her parents did their level best to tear her future to shreds.

Ganapathi raised both hands in a gesture of peace. “Look here, Gopal, Radha. Sangita's so young. Can you imagine her life over the next fifty years or so? I...”

“Aahaa! What sympathy! It's the kind a fox feels for a sheep. Why do you care? Sangita's none of your business. She's our daughter and will lead her life the way we choose,” yelled Radha.

“But please try to understand, Radha. Gautam loves her. He'll take care...”

“Just stop it, will you Ganapathi?” said Gopal. “I think we have had enough of this nonsense. I don't believe in this so-called love. If that's the name you want to give for the lust your grandson has for Sangita, it's your lookout. But you'd better warn him to take his libido and go elsewhere to look for a wife. We'll never agree to this wedding.”

“But, Gopal...” Ganapathi sat there for another hour putting up with the insults meted out by Sangita's parents, trying his best to persuade them to his way of thinking. All in vain! They stood adamant in their stance.

Both Ganapathi and Vimala got up to leave, their shoulders stooped wearily, disgusted with the other couple. Rekha stood at the kitchen entrance, horror-struck, not having found the right moment to serve the guests with coffee. The situation had been too fraught with drama.

Sangita had come down to the last stair, hovering hesitantly. Vimala took a few steps unexpectedly and gave the young girl a warm hug. “Don't you worry, my dear. The wedding will take place as planned,” she whispered reassuringly before patting her cheek and leaving the house, following her husband.

Ganapathi looked at his son-in-law wearily. “So that's it. I'm really at a loss to know what to do. It somehow doesn't feel right to make Sangita come away secretly.”

“That's true, Pappa,” said Alistair. He turned towards his son. “Gautam, you did mention that one of Sangita's brothers is engaged to Padmanabhan's daughter, right?” At Gautam's nod, he looked at his aged parents-in-law, “Now, don't you guys worry. I think I've the answer to the problem. Let me go meet them tomorrow.” He yawned. “And now, bed, I think. You'll have to excuse me. The jet lag's getting to me.” He got up and stretched his arms before wishing everybody 'goodnight'.

Swetha sat with her parents for some time while the youngsters hung around chatting late into the night.

21

Padmanabhan and Alistair Sinclair knocked on Sangita's door at seven the next evening after ensuring that both the sons of the house were back from work.

Radha and Gopal had never met Padmanabhan before. The two men were seated in the hall before it struck Gopal that one of them was an American. He put two and two together and arrived at an exact four.

“Are you Ganapathi's son-in-law?” he asked Alistair directly without waiting for an introduction. “Well, I'm not sorry to tell you this. You aren't welcome here...”

Rakesh made a small sound of protest. He felt embarrassed at the way his father was behaving in his future father-in-law's presence.

“Appa...”

Gopal wasn't to be checked. “You keep quiet,” he snarled at his younger son before continuing, “Well, I can't make this any clearer. In fact, I told Ganapathi...”

Both the guests were on their feet now. Padmanabhan cleared his throat gently before interrupting. “Please excuse me, Mr. Gopal. We haven't met before. The name's Padmanabhan, CEO of PadmaClair Associates, also father of Lata. And let me introduce...”

“Will you please keep quiet? I'm trying to make this American gentleman understand...” Gopal had begun at his sarcastic best and stopped suddenly to give Padmanabhan a startled look, as the latter's words finally registered.

“You are...” he stuttered. “You are Rakesh's boss,” he declared in a weak voice. He turned to look at the tall American with new eyes. “And this is?” he asked of Padmanabhan without removing his eyes from Alistair.

“This is Alistair Sinclair. He's fifty per cent owner of PadmaClair Associates, and hence is also Rakesh's boss,” declared Padmanabhan mildly.

Now this assertion had a different impact on Gopal and his wife. The name 'Sinclair' was familiar, but Gopal was viewing it from another angle now. He hurriedly invited his guests to sit down and asked Rekha to bring some coffee. This time the coffee did materialise and was served before talks resumed.

“Well,” said Padmanabhan, “that was excellent coffee,” he rubbed his hands together in pleasure. “Coming to the subject of my daughter Lata and your son Rakesh, you must be aware that they want to get married to each other?” he looked at Gopal enquiringly.

Gopal nodded his head vigorously, while Radha eyed Padmanabhan avariciously, bundles of cash and gold jewellery dancing before her eyes. She smiled widely as Gopal called her forward and introduced her as Rakesh's mother.

“Namaskaram! We are honoured that you want to get your daughter married to our son,” she gushed effusively.

Padmanabhan continued. “I'm planning to buy Rakesh a new car of his choice and will be promoting him to the position of Managing Director. Of course, Lata has her own car and as she's my only child, will be bringing a lot of jewellery with her.”

Alistair watched in silent amusement as Gopal and Radha's eyes widened in awe as Padmanabhan's list kept growing. Now he knew their Achilles heel and bided his time.

“I have even bought a two-bedroom flat in her name. Of course, I'm not suggesting that Rakesh and Lata live separately. But just in case...”

The older couple was floating on cloud nine while Alistair turned to look around him. He looked at Rekha who had served them coffee as she stood at the kitchen entrance—wondering whether she was Sangita.

His gaze crossed over Raghavan and moved towards the staircase. Someone was sitting on the top step, chewing her finger nail apprehensively. Even at this distance, he could see her expressive features twisted in anxiety. Her beautiful eyes were staring down in trepidation, while a frown marred her perfect forehead. That, of course, must be Sangita, decided Alistair.

Padmanabhan concluded, “I'm sure that everything is to your satisfaction. Of course, we will celebrate the wedding on a grand scale. I will bear all the expenses.”

Now Alistair was sure he could count every single tooth Radha and Gopal had, right from where he was seated.

He heard them gushingly agree to everything Padmanabhan suggested. Now he said, “Just one more thing I wanted to mention. I heard that you've a daughter...”

Gopal and Radha looked at each other apprehensively. What had Padmanabhan heard about her? They turned to look at him and nodded slowly.

“Yes. Her name's Sangita. She's a widow. She lives here with her son,” said Gopal in a hesitant fashion.

Alistair's jaw tightened. The old coot sounded almost apologetic about his own child.

“Well,” Padmanabhan lowered his voice, “My daughter—being an only child—is quite pampered. Now the newlyweds will want to have a good time. But a widowed sister might be in the way...”

Rekha looked at Padmanabhan with dislike. What a mean character! she thought. Luckily, Sangita couldn't hear his words. But then, Padmanabhan had guessed that she was far enough and spoken in a whisper deliberately.

Gopal looked at him askance. He had never considered it from that angle. Padmanabhan continued, “But of course, as I told you, my daughter has a flat in her name...” he drawled, looking for a reaction.

Radha blanched. She saw Rakesh walking away with his wife taking the car, jewellery and his big salary with him. Raghavan and Rakesh smiled as they realised that Padmanabhan was getting his point across, slowly but surely.

“No, no,” protested Radha, “there will be no such problem. We'll take care...”“No, you listen. I know the practical world. Nowadays, that's why people get their young, widowed daughters married again. But I heard that you all are against it. Rakesh explained to me that you both will never agree to it. In that case, I'll have to ask Lata to live separately in her flat with Rakesh.”

Gopal and Radha panicked. All this while, they had held the reins of the family in their hands. Now they saw that slipping.

Alistair cleared his throat to draw their attention. “I am Gautam Sinclair's father. My son's a professor at Loyola College. He earns very well. He is also the fifty percent shareholder at PadmaClair Associates. Our family has no objection to him marrying a widow with a child.” He paused for a few seconds to ensure that the couple was paying him full attention.

Radha glowered at him while Gopal considered his words thoughtfully. Alistair could see Gopal's mind working favourably towards his cause and struck while the iron was hot.

“In fact, I'm ready to pay a handsome dowry on my son's behalf,” he declared.

Sangita straightened in her sitting position at the top of the staircase. He couldn't mean it. Gautam's father couldn't mean to buy her with money. Something like this cannot happen in these modern times, not in the middle of the bustling metro of Madras, anyway. And of course her parents would never accept it. Their self-respect and neighbours' opinions counted more than anything else, surely. She looked down warily on the scene that had taken on the guise of a nightmare. All considering, it was her future at stake.

But between self-respect and greed, the latter won hands down. Sangita's parents were in total agreement. They didn't even take time off to consult each other. The moment Alistair Sinclair spoke of a dowry, he had Radha's undivided attention. They would be getting a dowry and also be getting rid of the daughter who had been nothing but a source of tension since her birth.

“And I'll pay in dollars.” That did it. Both the parents were all for the idea. The main worry of what Rakesh's father-in-law would have to say about his sister's remarriage also didn't exist anymore. They conveniently forgot their neighbours now.

“How much?” asked Gopal, licking his lips greedily.

“Ten thousand,” declared Alistair as if he was speaking of a paltry sum.

Rekha smiled at the two guests as she finally realised the purpose of their visit while Raghavan and Sangita hung their heads in shame.

Sangita burned with mortification as Gautam's father quickly wrote a cheque and handed it over to Gopal. “Now, may I meet my daughter-in-law?”

Gopal and Radha couldn't have cared less and gestured to Rekha to deal with it.

But Sangita was nowhere in the vicinity. Rekha excused herself and rushed up the staircase. Sangita's bedroom was shut. Something was surely wrong. Rekha knocked on the door.

“Sangita,” she called out softly, when the door continued to remain closed.

There was no response.

“Sangita, Gautam's father's waiting to meet you,” she called out in a louder tone.

But Sangita didn't budge from the floor where she sat curled into a tight ball of misery. She felt like a slave who had been sold in an open market to the highest bidder. Could nobody care less that she was being sold for $10000?

She had believed that Gautam respected his dog better than her parents did her. Then how could his father...? Sangita rubbed an angry hand across her eyes to stop the flow of tears.

She had always known no human being was worth it. So why the pain now? Why the tears? Gautam's father had only underlined her disillusionment of the human race.

And she had imagined that Gautam was unlike the rest.

A moan escaped Sangita as she crossed her arms tightly around her trembling body. She felt so alone.

Rekha gave up after a few minutes. She made some poor excuse to Alistair Sinclair and sighed in relief as the two gentlemen took their leave.

Exactly fifteen minutes later, Sangita's cell rang. She lifted her head with a jerk, staring at the instrument blankly for a few seconds. She got up purposefully and switched it off without bothering to check who the caller was. She had a tough time controlling the wild impulse to smash it against the wall to relieve her frustration.

Of course she knew who it was; her very latest cause for disillusionment.

Anger and self-pity gushed through her, making her body shake all the more. She gritted her teeth in temper.

When Giridhar had ill-treated her, she hadn't cared beyond a point. She had become numb after a time. But, now the pain she felt was excruciating. She felt betrayed. Why? What did Gautam mean to her? He was just a man. But...but, his gentle face flashed before her eyes. Oh, God! She had believed he was different from the others.

Sangita lifted her hand and smote her forehead hard. But it didn't relieve her of her frustration. What was she to do now? She imagined a life without Gautam. 'I'd rather die,' was the predominant thought. Why? She looked around her, bewildered. Could she be...? Sangita shook her head violently in negation. Of course she couldn't be in love with him. How could she; she who was frigid; she who hated men? But, she had connected with him from the first day she met him. She believed that he cared for her. But falling in love with him? A groan escaped Sangita. How can it be? She couldn't be such a fool. Was it love that made it impossible for her to think of a life without Gautam? Was it love that made her do things that she would have otherwise never dreamt of doing just to be in his arms? Was it love that made every part of her body writhe with pleasure just by his very touch?

While Sangita was warring with her inner-self, there was a commotion outside her door.

Gautam, who had been welcomed by Sangita's parents with open arms, had reached the closed door to her bedroom in a few seconds.

He knocked the door hard.

“Sangita, it's me, Gautam. Open the door.”

She felt her body respond to his voice and finally admitted to herself that she had got her answer. It was indeed love that she felt for Gautam, an emotion she never thought she could feel for a man. Fresh tears rolled down her cheeks.

She could take her parents for her enemies. Her brothers too. Her husband also had been against her. She could put up with it.

But Gautam's betrayal, as she believed it to be—she just couldn't bear it. A loud sob wrenched at her throat and she pressed a fist against her mouth to stop herself from wailing.

Gautam, who had been listening intently for Sangita's reply, heard a cry of pain and wondered what could have gone wrong. He knocked rapidly on the door again and called out in a louder voice, “Sangita, Sangita.”

“Just go away,” snarled Sangita, her fury rising once again.

“Sangita,” Gautam called out once more in a soothing voice. “Will you open the door? I wanna talk to you.”

“No,” shouted Sangita. “Just go away.”

“Sangita,” said Gautam, “Are you opening this door now or shall I break it down?” he asked in a matter-of-fact voice.

Sangita considered his threat, speculating whether he would dare to actually do it. She thought not. How could he? Her parents would never...her eyes widened as the full truth hit her like a ton of bricks. Not anymore. Her parents wouldn't come between Gautam and her anymore.

Her lips curled in a bitter smile. They had received a pretty hefty amount to get rid of her. And the alacrity with which they had accepted Alistair Sinclair's cheque...a loud sob escaped from Sangita as she once again relived the indignity of the scene earlier.

And her temper rose to a crescendo against the man who was responsible for her abject humiliation. Even Giridhar hadn't contrived to make her feel so cheap.

Suddenly, there was a loud noise outside, as if someone was trying to break open her door, which was precisely what Gautam was doing.

Sangita stared at the door in confusion as the bolts rattled in protest as yet again Gautam hit it with his muscular shoulder.

She moved forward and pulled the bolt and threw the door open. Gautam almost fell into the room sideways as he forcefully attempted to push the door open for the third time. He swiftly gained his balance, walked into the room and pushed the door shut.

He tucked his hands into his jeans' pockets and leaned against the door to look at his fiancée. Her tear-streaked face rattled him. He tried to catch her eye in vain.

Sangita folded her arms tightly in front of her and resolutely looked down at the floor.

“Sangita,” Gautam called out softly. “What's wrong now? Something seems to have upset you.” A frown marred his broad forehead.

Understatement of the year! Sangita refused to acknowledge him.

“Sweetheart!”

That brought her head up swiftly. Her face was full of anger, her enraged eyes burning like flames. “Don't you dare 'sweetheart' me!” she ordered him in a voice choked with emotion.

“But Sangita,” spoke Gautam in a tone meant to soothe her ruffled feathers, “I don't know what's bothering you...” he took a step forward in her direction.

She moved several steps backwards, putting more space between them.

“Don't come anywhere near me. I hate you!” she asserted passionately.

The heartfelt declaration that was supposed to shake Gautam seemed to have the opposite effect. There was a glint of anticipation in his eyes as they studied her stormy face hungrily.

He took another step towards her. She raised a hand in protest. “Stop where you are!”

Gautam didn't know whether to be amused or annoyed at her behaviour. The woman he had met and fallen in love with seemed to have a wild temper. He could believe it only because he was seeing it with his own eyes. A small smile brought forth the dimple into evidence much to Sangita's exasperation. She didn't want to be reminded of any of the qualities that endeared him to her.

Reflecting on the scene downstairs, Sangita glared at Gautam with renewed vigour.

Gautam looked at his livid fiancée and wondered what could have gone wrong. When his father returned home to say that Sangita had refused to meet him, Gautam had been unable to believe his ears. But the evidence was right here in front of his eyes.

“Sangita, unless you tell me what's eating you, how can I help you?”

“I don't need your help,” bit out Sangita even before he completed his question.

“But...”

“Your father had the unmitigated gall,” she glowered at him accusingly, her chest heaving in anger, “he had the gall,” she repeated, “to buy me with money. Just who the hell do you think you are? I am not and will never be your slave.” Tears poured down her cheeks. “Nor am I a cheap prostitute who can be made available at a rich man's fancy.” Her voice broke as she rubbed her wet cheeks impatiently.

Comprehension dawned on Gautam's face. He felt terrible. It was true that his father had done what he had with the best of intentions. And Sangita's parents being what they were, had accepted the money without a word of protest.

While Gautam had presumed that the problem had been solved easily, it had been foolish of him not to have considered the impact on the sensitive Sangita. Remorse clouded Gautam's eyes.

“My darling, I'm so sorry,” he apologised profusely, his sincerity obvious.

Sangita gave him a startled look.

Gautam moved forward and gathered her into his arms before she realised what he was up to.

“I'm so very sorry, sweetheart. I didn't realise. It didn't strike me...”

Sangita clenched her hands into fists and pressing them against his broad chest, pushed at him.

“Let me go.”

“Never, Sangita.”

“I'll never marry you. I'll not be bought. I...”

Gautam bent down and silenced her in the only way he knew. She glared at him, trying hard to pull away. When his hold tightened around her, she kicked hard at his shin in protest.

Both of them sprang apart as Gautam winced in pain while Sangita shrieked as her bare toes throbbed with the impact on his shin. A smile broke out on Gautam's face. A fiery hellcat, no less!

“Sangita, I did say I'm sorry.”

“What the hell for? The damage is already done. Your father thinks I'm cheap. He...”

“Don't be silly, Sangita. Of course he...”

“I am being silly?” Sangita's voice had gone dangerously calm. Her now dry eyes shot daggers at him.

Gautam put out his hands in a gesture of peace. “Okay, not silly, maybe. But my father didn't mean to hurt or insult you. He...”

“Oh! Maybe American girls feel wonderful when they're bought and as he knows only that culture...” she drawled sarcastically. “Or maybe he paid money to buy your...”

“That's enough, Sangita.” Now it was Gautam's temper that had risen to the surface. “Don't you dare insult my parents!”

Sangita's eyebrows rose expressively. “If I say that your father paid money for your mother, it's an insult. Just the mere suggestion upsets you. While your father actually paid...” Her voice shattered as she turned away from the man she had fallen in love with, her shoulders wracked by sobs.

Gautam placed his hands on Sangita's slender shoulders. “Please, Sangita. Dad would never insult you. You know what happened the other day when my grandparents came over to talk to your parents. Dad couldn't think of any other way to gain your parents' permission for our wedding.” His voice was soft while his hands kneaded her shoulders, trying to relieve the tension from her muscles.

Gautam brought his mouth close to her ear. “Sangita, please don't be upset, my darling. You know how much all of us have been working on getting your parents' consent. Now it's done. What else? You have heard the saying, 'All's fair in love and war'. Why don't you accept the gesture for what it is?”

Sangita tilted her head to look at him. The soft kneading of her shoulders was setting her blood afire. All that anger in her had quickly shifted into a reaction she couldn't quite identify with. Her subconscious registered that he was absolutely right and she had worked up a temper over nothing.

She was rather confused as Gautam pulled her close to him, his arms going around her bare waist, her soft back pressed against his chest. Her sari pallu came off her shoulder, laying bare her chicly bloused bust. Sangita's head fell against his shoulder in surrender as she gave in to the inevitable. She felt more vulnerable than ever after discovering she was in love with him.

A pulse beat rapidly as Gautam nuzzled her neck, trailing wet kisses against the soft skin between her neck and shoulder.

Her response flared instantly as her passionate temper had converted into sexual tension. Only she couldn't recognise it for what it was.

But Gautam, understanding only too well the state she was in, pulled her even tighter into his embrace, not giving her an opportunity to think.

His lips traced the line of her jaw before capturing her soft ones in an erotic kiss. She had never felt like this before. Her whole body felt more alive than ever. She could feel his hard chest, hips and thighs against her back as they were moulded to one another.

She couldn't gather enough energy to stop his hands from moving from her waist to cup her breasts. Her breasts swelled in response as if to celebrate his possession. Her nipples hardened and pushed against the palms of his hand. She raised her hands to pull them away. But the half-hearted attempt never came about.

His tongue took a slow and sensuous tour of Sangita's mouth in a mind-blowing kiss. Her slender form shuddered against his hard frame in response to the onslaught. Her heart seemed to swell with the mounting pressure, making her pulse jangle. Her body felt chilled while the parts that were in contact with Gautam's appeared to be on fire.

Gautam turned her around to face him, without breaking the kiss. Sangita's soft breasts were now crushed against his hard chest. She was surprised to find that she enjoyed the sensation. Her arms were wrapped around his waist tightly. It was like holding on to a lifebuoy in the middle of a raging ocean of ardour.

Sangita buried her face on his chest. “I'm sorry,” she whispered. “I...”

“Forget it,” said Gautam, “I have.” He put his hand under her chin and said with a wide smile of amusement, “so the cool little lady has a fine temper, huh?”

Sangita blushed.

He rubbed his nose against hers. “Now will you get ready to meet my family?”

“Gautam, what must your father think of me? I feel so embarrassed. I acted on impulse. I felt so hurt and angry. I...”

“Relax, sweetheart. I'm here with you, aren't I?” His finger idly traced the piped edge of her blouse, caressing the skin that showed above the neckline.

A small moan escaped her. “Sangita.” He bent down to trace with his lips the path taken by his finger. Her hands tangled in the golden-brown strands of his hair.

Her intention had been to pull his head away from her chest as panic had set in at the liberties he was taking with her traitorous body. But her hands tugged him closer.

Gautam's jaw line was taut with the effort it cost him to restrain his longing to make complete love to her right there and then. With a terrific sense of self-control he lifted the end of her sari that was trailing on the floor and covered her chest with it.

She gave him a startled look that confirmed her complete lack of awareness of her state of déshabillé. She raised shy eyes to look at the man who had moved a couple of feet away from her to stand by the door.

“Can you get ready fast? I'll wait downstairs with Sandeep.”

Sangita nodded, not uttering a word.

Sangita was overwhelmed by the warmth with which she and her son were received by Gautam's family.

She was most fascinated by Sid who was so like her fiancé yet so different. She was thrilled to receive his spontaneous hug. It was a totally new experience. He took her aside for a special interview. This was done in style without alarming her in any way.

“So,” he grinned at her, “you're the woman who's brought my dear twin to his knees.”

Sangita blushed, staring with fascination at the dimple on his left cheek. Gautam's was on the right side. “I can't imagine Gautam on his knees.” Her words came out in a soft whisper, “though the prospect does have its appeal.” He gave a shout of laughter that carried across to the others as he bent a long way to catch her words.

He looked at her innocent face. He could totally understand how Gautam had fallen for her. Though she seemed to be quite unaware of her power over the man she was going to marry.

He hugged her again. “Would you like to know about Gautam as a kid and later as a young man?” he asked.

Sangita turned her eyes to him. “You'll tell me?” she asked eagerly. “I've been dying to know. Somehow Gautam and I never got around to talking about it.”

Gautam watched with a trace of envy, his twin monopolising his fiancée. And to his great astonishment, she didn't appear to be tongue-tied at all. She couldn't seem to stop talking to Sid.

There was only so much he could take. He walked to them and removing Sid's arm from her shoulders, clamped his own around her waist.

Sid watched his brother's possessive gesture with mischievous amusement as Sangita turned to Gautam.

She was completely unaware of the jealous undercurrents. To her, Sid was Gautam's brother and hence her own. And she was too happy that he was so affectionate. Her brothers never really displayed any affection. She was pleasantly surprised.

22

The wedding was a quiet ceremony with only the immediate family members present. The only exceptions were Padmanabhan and his daughter, Lata. The function took place at Vadapalani Murugan Temple and was later registered by a court official.

The ceremony itself was traditional with Sangita wearing the peacock blue Kancheepuram sari with a bright pink border. Gautam wore a traditional veshti and jippa.

Vimala and Swetha gifted the bride lots of gold jewellery. Gopal and Radha attended the wedding and went home immediately after having the wedding luncheon at Shraddanjali.

A grand wedding reception was hosted by Alistair and Swetha Sinclair in their son and daughter-in-law's honour at the Lotus Hall of Le Royale Meridien the same evening.

It was a splendid affair attended by more than a thousand guests. All those invited had turned up despite the short notice. It just showed the goodwill and respect Gautam's family commanded in the society.

A honeymoon suite had been booked for the bride and groom and it was there that Sangita was getting ready for the reception. It was 6.30 pm when Sangita turned around to see her husband of a few hours walk into the bedroom carrying a couple of parcels. Rekha and Sara, who had been helping Sangita get ready, left the room almost immediately, closing the door behind them.

Gautam couldn't seem to take his eyes off the beauty in front of him, as he carefully placed the parcels on the side table. She was wearing his favourite sari, the purple shot with pink and appeared resplendent. Gautam looked at his wife appreciatively, from the top of her head to the small pink toes peeping out of the golden heels she was wearing.

Her hair was tied in a sophisticated knot on top of her head with two tendrils cascading down on the sides of her face. Mild make-up made her look like a glamorous model. Gautam stared in wonder at the difference the bright clothes and light make-up made to her personality. His flitting eyes finally settled on her luscious lips that sported a wet look with lipstick the shade of the wild orchids he had brought along with him, both matching the colour of her sari perfectly.

Gautam moved forward, his focus not wavering even for a second before his lips settled on hers in a tentative kiss. He lifted his arms slowly, as if in a dream, to pull her slender body into his embrace. His tongue traced the outline of her lips, before seeking entry into her warm mouth.

Sangita raised her arms to twine them around his neck to pull his head closer, opening her lips to his inquisitive tongue. Silence reigned in the room for a few minutes as Sangita lost all sense of time and her surroundings. She surrendered to the pleasure of his masterful kiss.“Sangita!” Gautam lifted his head to study her blushing face, “You look fantastic,” he sighed.

“So do you,” said Sangita, as she moved a few inches away to study her husband's tall, muscular frame, his ruggedness not quite toned down by the formal suit that he was wearing. His silk shirt and tie were the exact blue of his eyes, while the pearl grey suit was a perfect setting for his tanned good looks.

The citrus fragrance of his aftershave soothed her. Sangita gently removed the traces of lipstick from his mouth using a tissue. Gautam grinned like a Cheshire cat as he caught her hand in his, kissed her fingers, nipping her thumb gently.

Sangita's eyes widened as she felt a jolt of electricity running through her body. She buried her face in his chest, feeling too shy to face him.

There was a knock on the door. Sid walked in as Gautam called out, “Come in.”

“Cut it out, you newlyweds. It's almost seven.”

Wild horses wouldn't have dragged Sangita's face away from Gautam's chest. He turned slumberous, blue eyes towards his twin. “Get lost, Sid,” he said.

Siddharth wiggled his eyebrows expressively, rolling his eyes towards the ceiling and shrugging his wide shoulders, left them alone. Sangita looked at her husband as she heard the door click behind Sid. “How could you...?”The question was never completed as Gautam gave her another passionate kiss. He lifted his head with reluctance and told his bride arrogantly, “I just did,” his eyes crinkling with a smile. “And now, my darling wife, the final touches.” He removed the orchids from their packing and helped Sangita pin them to her hair.

Sangita gasped as he opened the jeweller's box. There was a delightful neckpiece, large earrings, ring and bangles made of cob rubies set in twentyfour carat gold; in the temple jewellery design exclusive to Tamil Nadu.

Gautam placed an addigai—a choker, around Sangita's neck, pulling the string firm at the back. He tucked the length of the string into the low cut neck of her blouse, his fingers dancing on her bare back, like the touch of a butterfly's wings. The design was in the form of red flowers strung together. The pearls dangling along the lower edge of the choker vied with the sheen of Sangita's skin. He took out the kasu maalai, a long neckpiece, strung with gold coins and placed it around her neck. It reached down to her navel.

Sangita took out the pearl and ruby earrings and wore them.

Next she wore the kanganam on her wrist, and combined it with thin gold bangles interspersed by coloured glass ones, alternating pink and purple with zari lines on them. There was also a ring that fit the ring finger of her right hand.

She met Gautam's ardent, blue eyes in the mirror shyly as she gave herself a final glance. He gave her a broad wink that she returned with a shy smile, before applying a fresh coat of lipstick with a trembling hand.

Sandeep burst through the door despite Rekha's protests as she walked close behind him. “Mummy, Daddy!” he shrieked, hugging his father's legs. Gautam bent down to lift the child into his arms, holding him close. “What do you think, young man? How does your Mummy look now?” he asked of his son.

The two of them turned to look at the woman of their lives adoringly. Sandeep hung on to his father's neck as he pressed his lips to his lean cheek. “She looks beautiful, Daddy,” he whispered, his brown eyes alight with excitement.

Gautam placed his right arm around his wife's waist before stepping out of the bedroom into the lounge. Flashbulbs popped as the photographer captured a picture of the adoring family of three into posterity.

Sandeep slipped out of Gautam's arms to take hold of Sangita's hand giving her a wide, impish grin that she returned in equal measure.

“Hi, handsome!” she called out, her eyes admiring his formal trousers and jacket as she combed back his unruly curls with her fingers.

Sandeep noticed the colour on her nails and breathed, “Mummy,” his eyes round in awe. He gazed at the deep pink colour that matched her sari with great admiration. “Mummy,” he said again, his voice choked with emotion, “you're looking very nice.” It seemed to the little boy as if his birthday and Diwali were being celebrated on the same day.

Sangita went on her knees, hugging her small son, pressing her soft cheek to his silky one. “You too look great, darling. Very handsome, just like your Daddy,” she murmured.

It was time to go to the reception. Sandeep ran ahead to join Ramya and his new cousins. Sangita moved forward, flanked on her right by her husband and on the left by her favourite brother-in-law. Both men had offered their elbows, and she in turn, held on to their arms simultaneously, without batting an eyelid.

Sid bent down to whisper in her ear, “Has he gone down on his knees yet?” Sangita turned her laughing eyes to his naughty, black ones, her lips pouting. She shook her head mockingly, “No.”

Sid pressed his lips to her cheek in an affectionate kiss. “The wait will not be long, darling sis. He's all set,” he said, still continuing to whisper, much to his twin's annoyance.

Gautam placed a proprietory arm around her waist and pulled her closer to his side, his blue eyes giving his twin a warning glare. Sid winked.

Suddenly, there was a small commotion and they turned to look at Rithika in a brilliant, emerald green Kancheepuram sari, rush towards them, her heels making no noise on the carpeted floor as she ran forward to hug Sangita. “Congratulations, Sangita!” she squealed her delight, pressing her cheek to the bride's.

She turned to the groom, who greeted her with an equally wide smile. “Gautam,” she shook his hand enthusiastically, “Congratulations! I just knew you would do it.”

Gautam opened his arms wide to hug Rithika. “Thank you, my dear friend,” he said to her, as she raised her face to him. “But for you and Rekha, this wouldn't have happened.”

“Ah, come on, Gautam,” teased Rithika, “I'm sure you'd have managed pretty well by yourself.” She caught the movement in her periphery and noticing Siddharth, gave a gasp of astonishment. “Gautam,” she pressed her fingers on his arm, “you never mentioned there were two of you,” she said, her bold eyes running over Sid in admiration. She took in his black dinner jacket and bow tie, then the jet black eyes with the golden-brown hair and shook her head in astonishment.

After the introductions, they all walked together to the dais that was beautifully decorated with yellow roses and white asters. Gautam and Sangita remained on the raised platform and greeted all the guests, along with the parents.

They then proceeded towards the buffet and all too soon the reception was at its end. Rekha and Raghu bid their farewells, taking Sandeep along with them for the night.

Sangita gave her Manni and son a pathetic look as she realised what was in store for her now. Rekha patted her shoulder gently and said, “Cheer up, dear. I'm sure things will work out perfectly.” How Sangita wished that she had her sister-in-law's confidence!

She turned to look at her husband in quiet desperation. He was talking to his brothers and sister. He caught the signal correctly and came to her immediately.

They left the hall in silence and went up to their suite. Gautam opened the door for her and pocketed the key. “See you in half an hour, love. Will that be okay?” he asked softly.

She frantically wished that he would give her a hug of reassurance. But much to her disappointment, his arms hung by his side.

Gautam controlled a strong urge to pull her into his arms. He knew that once he did that, he would never be able to let her go. And he had to give her the choice. So he left her alone in their suite, to decide whether she wanted to let him love her or just go to sleep before he turned up.

She moved from the sitting room to the bedroom, her steps hesitant. Her eyes widened in shock as she took in the room's décor. She didn't recognise it for the one from where she'd left for the reception.

The huge rectangular bed was covered in virginal white with a large pile of red velvet pillows heaped at the head. Red and white balloons were strung together and hundreds of them were tied to the four corners of the room. Huge bouquets of fragrant flowers were placed on both sides of the bed.

The only light came from the dozen, fat, aromatic candles that were lit around the room. The smell of incense was pretty strong and tightened Sangita's already frayed nerves.

She removed her jewellery and placed them in their boxes. She moved forward mechanically to open the cabinet. Her eyes became wide with dismay as she saw a new soft-leather bag in the place of the overnight case she'd left behind. Her case was nowhere in sight. She removed this new piece of luggage with trembling hands and opened it. Her hands encountered gossamer fine chiffon as she pulled out a nightgown of soft peach in the sheerest of material. She searched some more and came up with a matching negligee of the same peach colour. There wasn't much other than a couple of new toothbrushes, perfumes and men's pyjamas.

Sangita lifted her things and walked valiantly into the en suite bathroom. Gautam had said half an hour. She looked at the bedside clock. She had twenty more minutes left to shower, change and get into bed, under the covers.

Sangita pulled off her sari and removed the rest of her clothing in a hurry and folded them on to the shelf. She pulled a shower cap over her head and stepped into the bath tub. She started the shower and set the temperature to 'hot'. The hot water didn't warm her chilled body as she soaped it in a hurry. She stepped out of the shower and towelled herself dry, refusing to look at her naked body in the full-length mirror in front of her.

She pulled the transparent nightgown over her head and caught sight of the image in the mirror, shock rounding her eyes. Was that her? It couldn't be. The nightgown seemed to reveal things that were meant to be hidden and hid those that could be exposed. The noodle straps hugged the pearly sheen of her shoulders. While the low neck dipped above her breasts, the brown nipples were outlined clearly against the fine fabric. The garment fell down to her ankles in a straight line, dipping slightly at the dark triangle below her abdomen and hugging her slim thighs all the way down.

She hadn't even known that such clothes existed.

She turned to look at herself in the mirror waiting for the sense of shame to engulf her. But the image in the mirror of a slim woman with a desirable figure only seemed to stir warmth into her blood with absolutely no sense of dislike. What had happened to her?

For a second, Sangita imagined Gautam's flaming blue eyes on her form, in the state she was in. She felt goose pimples as the satiny finish of the gown moved sensually against her bare skin. A tiny moan escaped Sangita's lips as she felt her nipples rub against the soft fabric. The thought of Gautam's hands against her body made her groan louder.

Life was so unfair! She knew that she couldn't fulfil any of the promises that her gown offered. What a situation! She desperately lifted the matching negligee and pulled it over the gown. It seemed to underline her nakedness with absolute clarity. Sangita looked around nervously before her eyes fell upon the white bath robe provided by the hotel. She pulled off the negligee and put on the bathrobe and tied it securely around her waist.

There! That was much better. More like the Sangita she knew. The sultry creature who had peeped from the mirror didn't exist beyond her imagination. Thank God she was fully covered now.

Sangita pulled down her hair and taking the brush in her hand stepped out of the bathroom.

Her stunned gaze met that of her husband's who was standing at the window, a cigarette in his hand. His suit jacket and tie were off and so were a few of his shirt buttons, showing her a glimpse of the golden hair on his wide chest.

She turned her eyes away in a hurry and absolutely tongue-tied, walked over to the stool in front of the dressing table and sat down with a plop.

“Sangita,” Gautam squashed the last of his cigarette into the ashtray and moved towards his wife. He placed his hands on her trembling shoulders and rubbed them gently. He bent down to place his lips against her left ear. “Sweetheart,” he whispered and felt the tremor in her slender frame, “I made you a promise, remember?” His bright, blue eyes met her turbulent brown ones in the mirror. “I'll ne'er do anything that you don' want me to do. Is that clear?”

She gave him a small nod, not knowing whether she was relieved or disappointed. “Just relax, love,” he pressed his hands once more on her shoulders before removing them. Sangita felt bereft as she missed the warmth of his touch. Her eyes clouded.

Was that disappointment that he saw in his wife's beautiful eyes? Gautam couldn't be sure. Maybe it was just wishful thinking on his part. He moved away from her tempting figure.

“I won't be long,” he said as he excused himself to go take a shower. He discarded his clothes and stepped into the shower to set the water to 'cold'. The chillness of the water refused to cool his ardour as he stood under the shower for almost twenty minutes. Finally, he stepped out and towelled himself dry before pulling on his pyjama bottoms. As he towelled his head dry he noticed the negligee lying there beside the wash basin.

He lifted it to his face, rubbing it against his cheek. So the nightgown to match this was what Sangita had been hiding under that bathrobe. A slow fire lit within him laying waste the torture he had suffered under the cold shower.

He stepped out of the bathroom to find Sangita, lying along one edge of the bed. He looked around, his eyes searching for the bathrobe. It was nowhere in sight. Did it mean...? Yeah, he'd guessed right. His wife was huddled in her towelling robe under the bedsheet.

Sangita saw her husband step out of the bathroom, her eyes wide at the sight of his bare torso. His body wasn't anything like Giridhar's. It was simply magnificent! She couldn't turn her fascinated gaze away from him. His hair was dishevelled as he had just finger combed its dampness. His pyjama bottoms hung low on his hips and his large feet were bare.

But her eyes were riveted to his naked chest. Tight curls of golden-brown hair were spread liberally on his broad chest, making him look irresistable. Her eyes moved lower, tracing the line of hair that shaped into a V to disappear into his pyjamas. She closed her eyes tightly as she felt a rush of passion hit her. She was torn by the conflict between her bodily desire and mind.

She slowly opened her eyes to see that he was much closer. The sight of the sheer, peach-coloured, feminine negligee, clutched in his large hand should have struck her as incongruous.

He moved around the room, blowing all the candles out, just leaving two on, near the head of the bed. He looked at his wife who was huddled into a tight ball under the sheets, her body and face tense.

Gautam knelt beside her on the carpet. Sangita smothered the hysterical giggle that rose in her throat as she remembered Sid's question. She looked at her husband cautiously, unable to quite meet his eyes and again wary of eyeing his bare chest at such close quarters. She closed her eyes firmly.

“Sangita,” his voice was too close for comfort. “Why don't you wear this negligee instead of that robe? I'm sure you'd be more comfortable.”

Sangita opened her eyes to look at his face. His blue eyes were gentle and that somehow managed to calm her. She shook her head negatively, “It's too transparent!”

He held the negligee against the candlelight and understood what Sangita meant. He turned to look at his shy wife. “How come you...no, lemme think. You obviously didn't bring this. You...”

“I couldn't find my overnight case,” she whispered. “Only this one bag was available.

”He nodded his head in understanding, his hair shining golden in the candlelight. She was hard put not to run her fingers through the unruly locks. She gave a small sigh of frustration. He looked at her, wondering at the sigh. “It must have been Sara; her way of helping us to get on with our married life.” A twinkle appeared in his eyes.

A blush stole over her body and rose to her cheeks, reddening them, much to his fascination and delight. Snapping his fingers, he got up to search the bag and came up with his pyjama top.

“Why don't you wear this?” he asked his wife. She looked at the white garment in his hand which was obviously the pair to what he was wearing.

“Are you sure?” He nodded.

She stepped out from under the covers and took the top from him, careful not to let their fingers touch.

Gautam hid his smile of amusement as he saw her walk towards the bathroom with his pyjama top in hand. He had noticed the way her eyes clung to his torso, completely mesmerised. It appeared like he wouldn't have to wait too long before consummating their marriage.

Sangita removed the robe and looked at herself once again in the mirror. Despite her inhibitions earlier, she was hesitant to part with her negligee. She pulled the garment over her head in one single move and pulled Gautam's pyjama top on. The top smelled of his cologne. It was large and Sangita folded the sleeves over several times. She grimaced at her image in the mirror as the garment did nothing to her feminity.

But that wasn't the impression of the man who was lying on the bed now. The thin pyjama top dipped and flowed as Sangita walked towards him. His imagination went haywire as she settled on the bed next to him.

“Sangita!”

“Hmm.” She turned in his direction to find him looking at her from behind half-closed eyes and wondered what he was thinking.

“Do you mind opening out your braid?” He added, “Please,” as he saw the look of protest on her face.

She couldn't refuse him as she already felt too guilty denying him his conjugal rights. She sat up and opened her thick plait with nimble fingers. Suddenly, she found Gautam's hairy chest too close for comfort. He played with her hair, his hard palms against her cheeks as he raised her face to his.

“Kiss me, Sangita.” He looked deeply into her eyes, his gaze mesmerising.

Sangita held on to his forearms, her eyes wary. She eyed his masculine lips and gave in to temptation.

She moved closer and pressed her soft lips to his hard ones. She felt her body dip as he pushed her back against the bed. She couldn't recall her fear as she felt the weight of his body against hers. She was too busy enjoying the freedom granted to her over her husband.

Sangita tightened her arms around Gautam's neck as she slowly traced his lips with her silken tongue, revelling in the masculine texture of his lips. She leisurely pressed her tongue in-between and nudged his teeth line, seeking further entry.

He opened his mouth to let her in and it was like taking a headlong plunge into a warm pool. Her whole body reeled with shock as her tongue traced the inside of Gautam's mouth. She became bolder as she couldn't sense any protest from her husband. She was thrilled to explore the velvet contours of his mouth.

Gautam groaned as he pulled her soft body closer into his embrace. She was purring like a kitten in his arms. And he was sure that his sweet, innocent wife had no idea what she was inviting.

He moved away from her clinging lips, much to her disappointment. She frowned at him, wondering why. Maybe he hadn't liked the kiss.

Sangita realised that she had spoken aloud when Gautam replied, “It was heavenly, my darling innocent! Only I wasn't sure you'd be able to take the consequences if it continued,” his face tight with the control he had placed over the desire raging through his body.

Sangita blushed a fiery red before burying her face against her pillow. What was wrong with her? She was giving him mixed signals too. A sigh racked her body as she hit the pillow with a tight fist.

“Easy, little one,” said Gautam as he spread her long hair over his pillow and laid his head over it. Sangita turned to look at him, his head golden against her dark hair. “I'm sorry, Gautam.”

“What for? I'm not,” he grinned. “Just shows what a fantastic kisser you are,” he said as he traced his thumb over her lips.

She ran her tongue over her suddenly dry lips and inadvertently touched his thumb in the process. Her eyes flew to his as his blue ones caught fire. He removed the finger from her lips and raised it to his own mouth, touching the same spot with his tongue. The erotic gesture sent Sangita's heart banging against her chest.

“Go to sleep, sweetheart,” said Gautam as he blew the candle closest to him before shutting his eyes.

She blew her candle and waited for Gautam's arms to go around her, in vain. After a few minutes she heard the even tempo of his breathing and realised that her husband was fast asleep.

She couldn't comprehend the deep sense of disappointment that ran through her. Gautam had behaved like the gentleman that he was. Sangita turned on her side and suddenly felt the tug on her hair and looked around to see her husband's face buried in it. A slow smile lit her features as she looked at the even rise and fall of his torso as he slept on his chest. Her eyes closed in slumber as hope fluttered in her heart.

23

The days fell into a routine once Gautam's family left for the States. The nights were a different story.

Sandeep joined a nearby playschool, Sunflower Nursery while his name had been registered with J. Krishnamurti's The School for senior KG for the next academic year.

Gautam dropped his son off at the nursery before going to college, while Sangita picked him up in the afternoon.

Sandeep was thrilled with his new life. He felt so proud to be dropped at school by his new father every day. And his name had been registered as 'Sandeep Sinclair' much to his delight.

He skipped along beside his mother as they were on their way back home. Butterscotch ran in front of them, stopping every now and then to sniff at the bushes on the way. Sangita had half her attention on Sandeep's jabber as her mind swirled around her husband.

She couldn't help the secret smile that seemed to have taken a permanent place on her face. Her life had improved tremendously too. She hugged herself as she recalled the feeling of intense love in Gautam's embrace. He made no demands on her as he only gave her total, unconditional love, so far an 'unheard of phenomenon' in her life.

Mother and son reached the gates of their new home as Butterscotch let out a series of barks to inform Vimala and Ganapathi that they were home.

Vimala opened the door to the exuberant child and pulled him into a loving embrace as she asked him about his time at school. The atmosphere here was one of love and warmth unlike their earlier home. Typically childlike, Sandeep had forgotten all about his former existence, getting adjusted to the excitement of his new life almost from the first day.

“Kollu Patti,” he said, “today they taught us to finger paint, and look here,” he showed her proudly, “I've painted a picture of Butterscotch.” He looked at her kind face for signs of approval as she took the sheet of paper that had a large, golden yellow blob with a line for tail, two black spots for eyes and a dark, red line indicating a wide grin. She didn't disappoint him as she admired his handiwork with great zest. “This is wonderful, darling. Butterscotch would be so proud of you if only he could understand.” She gave him another hug even though his clothes were streaked with water colours. “Now, why don't you show this to Kollu Thatha before changing your clothes?”

“'Kay, Kollu Patti,” said Sandeep before giving her a kiss. He took his masterpiece and walked over to Ganapathi, whose face was buried in the latest issue of Kalki.

“Kollu Thatha, Kollu Thatha,” he chanted as Ganapathi turned to look at him, “Look at my painting.” Sandeep showed his work of art to the old man.

Ganapathi studied it for a few seconds with a twinkle in his eye, while Sandeep jumped from one foot to the other impatiently, hanging on to the arm of Ganapathi's recliner.

“Hmm, let me see,” drawled the kind voice teasingly, “this looks like,” he turned the paper this way and that, dragging out the moment of anticipation much to the child's delight, “hey!” he snapped his fingers, “this looks like a painting of a huge, golden Labrador.” He turned to look at his great grandson and spoke in a secretive whisper, “Is it Butterscotch, by any chance?”

Sandeep gave a whoop of glee as he danced around Ganapathi. He nodded his head vigorously and told the old man valiantly, “This is a gift for you, Kollu Thatha. You keep it in your room.”

Ganapathi smiled with genuine warmth as he pulled the little boy on to his lap. “Thank you, young man. I'm so glad to receive such a precious gift.” He kissed Sandeep gently on top of his head. “Now, dear, why don't you go change and have a wash like the good boy you are? Ramanna Thatha has made vegetable pulao and thayir pachadi with lots of fried pappadams for lunch. Your favourite, right?” he winked at the little boy who was bouncing on his lap.

Sangita watched the scene with gratitude. Her cup of happiness was full. She couldn't help comparing their lives of today to that of a week ago. A tiny sigh shook her being as she thanked the Maker.

The four of them sat to a noisy lunch and later played carrom for an hour before Sandeep's head started nodding. Sangita guided him to his room that was next to her own and Gautam's bedroom with a connecting door in between. Sandeep had adapted to the change quite easily.

The phone rang and Sangita picked her bedroom extension automatically. It was Gautam. “Hi, sweetheart!”

“Hi!” her voice came out in a shy whisper.

“Lunch over?”

“Hmm.”

“Cat's got your tongue, woman? Out with it! What's the problem?” he asked, a bit concerned with his wife's reticence.

“Why, nothing, Gautam. Everything's fine,” she said, a smile in her voice as she visualised the disturbed frown on his broad forehead. How she wished that his strong arms were around her! A small sigh escaped her.

“What's it, my darling?” he asked again.

“I miss you so. I'm not complaining, Gautam,” she added in a hurry, “I love Patti and Thatha and its great having so much time with Sandeep. But,” she hesitated before taking the plunge, “I miss your hugs and kisses. I just can't seem to get through the day without them,” she said in a soft voice that shattered his nerves in one blow.

“Just a little over two hours, love. I'll be home at the soonest, okay?”

Sangita nodded her head before she realised that he couldn't see her. “Okay,” she murmured in reply. He blew her a kiss before disconnecting the line, a dreamy smile on his lips.

Sangita turned around and looked at the huge bed in the centre of their bedroom. All the difficulties she'd imagined never materialised. Gautam made no demands on her that she wasn't ready to fulfil.

Only on one thing had he remained adamant. On their first night at home she had requested, “Do you think I should sleep in another room, Gautam? Maybe I can share Sandeep's...”

“No!” The reply was vehement as he looked at her steadily.

She swallowed before trying to reason with him, “Well, Gautam, as we're anyway not...” she gulped again, not knowing how to go further. He just continued to stare at her, his arms folded across his wide chest as he leant against the wall next to the dressing table, refusing to help her out of the situation. “Well,” she began again, “as we aren't really husband and wife, we...”

“But we are,” came his reply, his voice menacingly silky. “Don't even imagine otherwise, okay?” The blue eyes looked at her. “So, we haven't consummated our marriage. Not yet! But that doesn't mean we never will. My wife will not sleep away from me,” he declared in a no-nonsense voice.

“I understand that it might appear strange to anyone...”

“Sangita!” He was beside her in a couple of strides, holding her face up to his. “Let's get this clear once for all. I don't give a damn about others' opinions. You're my wife and you'll sleep in my arms, in my bed, okay?” His intense, blue eyes looked deeply into her chocolaty ones.

She offered to sleep in another room out of a sense of guilt. Otherwise, she was only too happy to sleep in her new husband's bed. The morning after the wedding she had woken up in the hotel room to find herself in the warm cocoon of his embrace and it had felt like heaven on earth. Sangita had always had the feeling of being used by others throughout her life. No one had given her so much love as Gautam and his family except for Rekha.

She was fidgety as she waited for the couple of hours to fade away. Thatha and Patti were having their siesta and this was the most difficult time of the day. She'd never got used to sleeping in the afternoons, though she used to enjoy reading. But recently, she hadn't been able to concentrate on any book. Gautam's brilliant eyes kept interposing.

She made an impatient sound as she ran downstairs to let herself out into the garden through the French windows. She walked to the back of the bungalow to stare at the swimming pool restlessly. It looked cool and inviting. Only she didn't know how to swim. Gautam had been teaching Sandeep over the past few days as Sangita watched them with envy. She'd been too shy to ask. She had never worn a swimsuit in her life; in fact, nothing other than the conservative sari or salwar kameez. The pool was so tempting! She knew that with a little persuasion, she'd definitely like to try her hand at swimming. And her husband was such a wonderful teacher. She had been watching him with Sandeep.

Another sigh came out inadvertently as she walked under the shade of trees that lined the compound wall. Despite all the amazing love flowing around her, there was this feeling of dissatisfaction that nagged at her subconscious. She seemed to be missing out on something wonderful, something that was elusive.

She didn't know why her body craved for Gautam's touch. She had never liked being with a man, hating Giridhar's touch. But now, she liked nothing better than to be in her husband's arms. Sangita wrinkled her nose at the parrot that screeched overhead. She saw the flash of green as it flew from one mango tree to another.

She didn't understand herself. Hugs and kisses were fine. 'But sex?' She shook her head slowly to herself. That was still a taboo. She definitely didn't want to experience it again. A slow thought reared itself from the depths of her being, 'Didn't she?'

A small frown pleated Sangita's smooth forehead. Gautam had made it plain in so many words that it was only a matter of time before they made love. But she couldn't see how. He made no demands, and she...well, she was quite happy as things were.

She was, wasn't she?

She recalled the touch of his large hands against her breasts. Her frown deepened. He hadn't done that recently. Sangita stopped suddenly in mid-stride. The last time he'd touched her so intimately was...she just remembered. It was on the day her father-in-law had given the cheque to her parents.

Her scowl became heavier as her breasts tightened, her sensitive nipples throbbing. Why had he stopped touching her? This was a new worry for Sangita. It intruded like a worm into her thoughts. Maybe he didn't like her shape. She closed her eyes in agony. What if he thought if she was too big or may be too small...? On and on went Sangita's mind as she tortured herself.

All, but the obvious answer, presented themselves to the innocent Sangita's mind.

That night had been one of pure hell for Gautam. After touching her so intimately, his aroused body refused to calm down even after two cold showers. He hadn't slept a wink recalling the feel of her soft breasts against his palms. They were a perfect fit, neither too large nor too small. Her response to his touch had been thoroughly satisfying. Only, a smile came to Gautam's lips, the beautiful child-woman didn't understand her own body. Finally, he lay back on his bed, taking deep breaths to cool himself down.

He was most definitely not ready for that kind of trial, especially with his gorgeous wife sharing his bed. It took a lot of effort from his side to exercise that kind of control but it was slowly becoming a habit. Not for anything was he ready to let her sleep away from him. He grinned as he recalled the enthusiasm with which she kissed him at every opportunity. Not long now, he promised himself as he entered the gates of Shraddanjali.

Butterscotch raced towards his bike, barks of welcome emanating from him. “Shh,” said Gautam as he pet the Lab. He didn't want Butterscotch to wake either Sandeep or his grandparents. He so needed these few minutes of privacy with his wife.

He turned as a bright yellow caught his eyes. He saw Sangita walking under the trees, her hips swaying gently as she sauntered away in the opposite direction. His blood heated at the sight of her slender figure draped in the bright, yellow sari. He couldn't wait to get his hands on the low knot she had made of her hair and bury his face in the fragrant, silky strands. Sangita neither heard his bike nor Butterscotch's bark as she was lost in her own thoughts. He walked towards her, his sneakers making no noise in the grass.

Sangita gasped, “Gautam,” as his strong arms went around her from behind, as he pulled her into his crushing hold.

A quiver ran through her body, even as she noticed that her husband avoided touching her breasts, much to her disappointment.

She turned around in his arms to look at him. She was clearly disturbed. Gautam didn't notice that as he bent down to steal a kiss from her soft, luscious lips.

“Hmm, that's better,” he whispered in her ear, holding her close against his chest. “Been desperate to kiss you since I spoke to you in the afternoon,” he continued to make verbal love to her as he crushed her body to his. His hands moved of their own volition to splay over her rounded bottom as he brought her hips closer to his own, to ease the pressure in his loins. His eyes closed automatically as pleasure invaded his senses.

A jolt of lightning shook Sangita's frame as she felt his hardness against her. All her confusion of his not touching her breasts flew from her mind as fresh horror overtook her. Would Gautam want to make love to her tonight?

She looked at him with turbulence in her eyes. He was busy pulling her hair open. He noticed her silence and looked down at her enquiringly.

She traced her forefinger on the outline of his shirt pocket, her eyes lowered as she couldn't meet his bright look of enquiry.

“Sangita!” He waited for her to look at him. “What's it?”

She studied his handsome features lovingly, not knowing what to tell him. She wasn't clear about what she wanted from herself, let alone from him.

She buried her face against his chest with a shuddering sigh. He held her close, waiting patiently for her reply. And Sangita knew, from the little experience she had of him, that he had the tenacity of a bull terrier when it came to coaxing answers out of her. It was only a matter of time before he got her to tell him what was eating into her.

Gautam shifted her in his embrace and the sensitive tips of her breasts responded instantly. He felt their reaction as he was holding her close. A smile gathered on his face as he guessed correctly what was bothering his wife. Her body was wide awake with desires that her mind refused to acknowledge. The time had come to put some pressure. He had his strategy all mapped out.

He didn't pursue the matter of Sangita's disturbed state, much to her irritation. He pretended not to notice her annoyed scowl as he walked under the trees beside her, her hand tucked into his arm. Sangita felt sorry that he wasn't hugging her and—her temper slowly mounted—the infuriating man seemed unaware of it.

Gautam talked about inconsequential things while watching his wife's face vigilantly from the corner of his eyes. Her monosyllabic responses were extremely gratifying.

Sandeep woke up and caught sight of his parents from his bedroom window; he ran down to meet them. Sangita couldn't fault the way Gautam handled their son; with absolute love and tender firmness.

Gautam lifted Sandeep bodily above his head as the little boy squealed in delight. She watched the rapport between father and son, a feeling of envy in her heart.

After snacks, coffee and Bournvita for Sandeep, the two males set out to play football with Butterscotch running along.

Sangita came down after changing into a pair of royal blue capris her husband had bought her a couple of days back. She had teamed it with a bright pink T-shirt and sneakers. Her hair was tied in a high pony. It had taken one week for Sangita to gather the courage to wear the outfit. But that day, she had come to a decision; to catch her husband's eye. She wasn't aware how contradictory her behaviour was.

As she stepped on the lawn, Sandeep and Butterscotch were playing tug of war with the football, refereed by Gautam. He had changed into shorts that showed his long, tanned legs to advantage. The sight sucked the air from Sangita's lungs. She boldly walked forward and stood beside her husband who turned his startled gaze on her.

It was his turn to become breathless. The capris fitted her slim legs to perfection. He swallowed as he watched her derrière as she strolled forward to join her son and Butterscotch in their game.

He gave a sharp whistle that made everyone turn towards him. His eyes were on Sangita as he gave her a broad wink before blowing her a kiss. Sangita blushed a bright pink as Sandeep turned to look at his mother.

“Mummy, you look cute,” he said.

“Yeah, very cute,” agreed his father, moving forward with a purpose in his eyes.

Sangita panicked as she guessed what was coming. She pushed her hands against her husband's chest, trying to keep him at bay. Her brown eyes warned him as she whispered in a hurry, “Gautam, Sandeep's watching...” Her sentence was never completed as Gautam swooped down to capture her lips in a mind-riveting kiss. His hands separated the hem of her T-shirt from where it was tucked into the waistband of her capris, and caressed her bare waist.

She raised her arms to hang on to his neck as her lips clung to his, giving as much as she got.

Gautam felt a tug on his shorts and turned glazed eyes to look down at his son.

“Daddy, what are you doing to Mummy?” Sandeep asked.

Sangita watched in fascinated horror as her husband went down on his knees to talk to their son. “I was kissing her, son. She's my wife, right?” Sandeep nodded his head in agreement.

“All husbands kiss their wives. It's only natural.” Sangita didn't know where to look. She was embarrassed by the conversation. She gave Gautam a pleading look, but he ignored it to listen to his son.

“But it's yuck, Daddy. Do you have to?” said his son, distaste on his face.

Gautam laughed. “Wait till you're older, my boy. You might want to kiss by then too.”

“Never!” declared Sandeep solemnly. “I'll never marry. Ugh! Then I don't have to kiss a lady.” He walked away in disgust, preferring the company of Butterscotch to that of his parents.

Gautam shook with unbridled mirth as he eyed his son with pride. He looked at Sangita who was squirming with embarrassment.

She looked at him accusingly to ask, “How could you, Gautam?”

He took her hands in his to pull her closer. “How could I what?” he asked innocently.

“Kiss me in Sandeep's presence,” she said, quite irritated with his pretence at not understanding, “and you gave him a lecture to top it all.” Her voice was as disgusted as her son's.

“Sangita,” drawled Gautam, “Sandeep, you and I are a close-knit family, right?”

She nodded, wondering what he was getting at.

“We're bound to spend most of our waking hours together. If you think I'm going to stop myself from kissing you, every time Sandeep's around, you'd better think again. I'm neither goin' to give up my son's company nor the pleasure of your kisses. Got that?” he said before pressing his lips to hers.

That day became a turning point in their lives. Although Gautam had been vehement about kissing her when he pleased, she could sense the withdrawal in him.

He kissed her less now and the few times he did, the kisses were shorter. The nights of pure bliss she had spent in his arms seemed to be yesterday's news.

He hadn't stopped embracing her. But the hugs were briefer. He made more excuses to go to bed much later than before. Either it was paper correction or new lessons to be prepared. The meaning of frustration began to slowly seep into Sangita's body and mind. She just didn't know how to deal with the situation.

In her misery, she wasn't aware that her husband's eyes were ever watchful of her and that he was absolutely satisfied with her reactions.

She wondered how to get his attention back on her. That afternoon, she hit upon an idea. She went shopping and daringly bought herself a swimsuit. It was a bright blue and orange one and Sangita looked at herself in awe in the trial room mirror. The cut was quite high on the thighs. She looked at her bare legs that appeared slim and long, telling herself, 'so what!'

She turned around to eye the low cut back. She decided that her slim, straight back looked appealing enough to catch Gautam's eye.

She added an orange towelling robe and matching skull-cap to her shopping basket, paid for her purchases and went home to await her husband.

Evening found father and son in the swimming pool with Butterscotch running around, barking his head off and being splashed for his efforts.

Sangita reached the pool, her orange robe tied securely around her new swimming costume. She wore her cap too, all set to jump into the water.

Gautam heard his son's gasp before he turned to see his wife standing near the shallow end. She was looking into the water, not quite able to meet his eyes. Her fingers were at the knot of the robe, hesitant to pull it open.

He rushed to her side, water dripping from his body. Sangita looked around desperately, not having the courage to look at his near naked body as he wore the briefest of swimming trunks.

“Hello, beautiful!” he greeted her. “Goin' for a swim?”

Sangita nodded without raising her head. “Only I don't know how.”

“Would you like me to teach you?” Gautam's voice was too close for comfort, his lips brushing her right ear.

She nodded again. Panic flared in her eyes as her husband moved her hands away firmly before pulling the knot of the robe open. He whistled in admiration at Sangita's swimsuit-clad figure before pulling the robe off her completely.

He placed his hands on her bare shoulders to slowly check her out from head to toe. It took all of her will power to stand still under his scrutiny. Her shoulders burned from his touch; her whole body caught fire as Gautam's eyes studied every curve.

“You look delicious.” His voice was awestruck as colour rode high on Sangita's cheeks. He turned her round slowly to gasp as he viewed her slim, bare back made all the more cute by the tight fit of the costume. Her legs appeared longer than usual and Gautam drooled over her slim thighs.

She was extremely disappointed as Gautam turned her towards the pool and said, “Shall we?”

This wasn't what she'd expected from her husband. She had been sure that he would pull her into his arms and kiss her senseless.

Even now her bare skin ached from the disappointment of not feeling his touch. She had been so sure that he wouldn't have been able to resist it. And her legs! She had looked forward in great anticipation for him to run his hands on them. A small frown puckered Sangita's forehead as she wondered what had gone wrong. Was he not attracted to her any longer? She lost interest in swimming. If he was going to be so distant with her, what was the point, anyway?

Gautam watched his wife's face avidly, trying to gauge her reaction. He was having a terrible time keeping his hands off her. He went back into the pool, shaking his head in a daze. The lady had some guts! It was obvious that she wanted her husband's attention. But even he was surprised to see her in the swimsuit. But he wanted all of her and he was prepared to wait.

He put his hand out to his wife. “Come on, Sangita. It's quite shallow at this end. You'll be safe,” he said.

Sangita looked at him, his bronzed shoulders gleaming in the light of the setting sun, droplets of water clinging to the golden-brown hair on his torso. She wanted to scream in frustration. It appeared like she couldn't even touch him when she pleased.

“I don't think I want to get my new suit wet. Maybe tomorrow,” she turned away in a flash of temper, her head high in the air as she strode away from the pool, forgetting to feel shy.

Gautam pulled his head underwater to hide his grin. Things couldn't have been better if he had planned the whole script. He realised that Sangita was ready for the final scene. He moved towards his son who was practising his laps religiously not keen to witness any yucky smooching between his parents.

The next evening Gautam announced that an old colleague of his who'd shifted to Calcutta had come to Madras for a visit.

“I'll not be home for dinner, Patti. A group of us are going out.” He was looking at his beautiful wife though he was addressing Vimala.

“Who's this person?” asked Ganapathi, ever curious.

“Shobita Banerjee, Thatha,” said Gautam, without batting an eyelid. He didn't fail to notice that Sangita's head had come up on hearing a woman's name.

“Oh, I remember meeting her. Is she still as beautiful as she used to be?” asked Thatha, being his usual mischievous self.

“But of course, Thatha; gorgeous as ever. You'll have to see her to believe it,” replied Gautam, tongue firmly in cheek.

Sangita's face reddened with anger. It looked like he had found someone more attractive. She gritted her teeth. Barely two months into their marriage and he had lost interest in her. But he had made so many promises. Men! She fumed. They were all fools!

And what misfortune had made her fall for him, she wondered. She was in love with her husband and she was definitely not ready to give up on their marriage. Even if it meant that she had to go the whole distance and have sex with him. A tremor shook her body. Yes! Even if it came to that, she told herself firmly.

“Why don't you ask her over for dinner?” Sangita turned to look at Ganapathi, trying hard to hold back the revulsion in her expression. What was Thatha trying to do? Break her marriage single-handedly?

Gautam controlled the urge to hug Ganapathi and kiss him on his bald pate. He couldn't have performed better even if Gautam had handed him a script.

He shrugged his shoulders. “Sure, why not? Patti, Sangita,” he looked at them in turn, “will tomorrow evening be okay?”

Patti innocently agreed as Sangita continued to glare at him. Gautam pretended to think that her silence was consent and getting up, stretched lazily, drawing his wife's angry gaze.

“Well then, guys, I'll get ready or I'll be late.” He walked over to his son and kissed the top of his head. “Be a good boy, okay, sonny?”

Sandeep nodded absentmindedly, his attention on the new video game that his father had gifted him earlier.

“Sangita,” called Gautam as he walked up the staircase, not even bothering to check whether she was following him or not.

Sangita's eyes bored two holes in his broad back as she followed him up the stairs to their bedroom. Gautam pursed his lips tightly to stop himself from grinning ear-to-ear as he could sense her jealous temper.

“Sweetheart, will you please take out my favourite jeans and black shirt for me? I'm running late and still have to shower,” said Gautam, as he pulled his T-shirt over his head, missing the thunderous expression on his wife's face.

He pulled down his shorts as he moved to the bathroom, watching Sangita's expression from the corner of his eyes.

Lately, he'd got into the habit of running around in next-to-nothing. Her blood sizzled whenever she saw his toned, muscular body. She turned away abruptly, her fists clenched.

She wasn't sure whether she was angrier with Gautam or with herself. He went into the bathroom whistling cheerfully, pleased with her reaction.

After barely ten minutes, he walked out, a towel around his waist. She fled, not having the strength of will to hang around while he dressed.

She joined Vimala and Ganapathi in front of the television, her mind most definitely not on the serial running there. Gautam came down, looking absolutely dashing. She watched him pathetically as he blew a kiss in their general direction before going out.

She was subdued through dinner, her mind working furiously, wondering what Gautam was upto. She finally came to a conclusion and went to her room after wishing Thatha and Patti goodnight. Luckily for her, they didn't notice anything strange in her behaviour.

She ran a hot bath and added the bath salt that Sara had gifted her. An aroma of lilac surrounded the bathroom as Sangita slid into the steaming tub.

Tonight was the night! She'd definitely get her husband's attention. Gautam loved her. She knew it. Sangita was a bundle of nerves by the time the water cooled in the tub. The soak that was supposed to calm her down, had frayed her nerves as she kept visualising the outcome of the night.

She gritted her pearly white teeth and thrust her small chin out determinedly as she towelled herself vigorously. She had to do it, if she wanted to keep her husband's love.

She had washed her hair and blow dried it while brushing the dark curls until they bounced and shone their way down to her waist.

She daringly took out the peach negligee and wore it before eyeing herself in the mirror. She looked the same as she had on her wedding night. Would Gautam find her attractive? The swimsuit hadn't moved him the previous day. Her lips drooped.

She went into the bedroom and lit half a dozen aromatic candles. She checked that her son was fast asleep before closing the connecting door softly.

Sangita applied some perfume on her pulse points. There was apprehension and panic in her eyes. But when she thought of her husband with Shobita, she became more determined to carry through with the seduction.

She sat on the bed, her body tense with anticipation.

It was 2.15 am when Gautam entered their bedroom to find his wife fast asleep in a sitting position. He turned around to see the almost gutted out candles and wondered what had been going on. He had stayed out late to fan the fires of his wife's jealousy. Shobita had gone back to her hotel quite early. He had stayed back to have a couple of drinks with his friends when all the while his mind had been on Sangita.

He went close to her and inhaled the perfume that she was wearing. He bent down to straighten her and was startled to see her negligee. His plan had begun to work! Sangita was ready to make love to him.

“Gautam?” asked Sangita in her sleep, her arms going around his neck.

“Yes, love, it's me. Go to sleep now,” said Gautam as he bent down to kiss her cheek.

“I love you, Gautam,” said Sangita in a sleep-slurred voice. Gautam froze, his arms tightening around her. Her steady, gentle breathing made him realise that she was talking in her sleep.

“I love you too, my darling,” he said, burying his face in her neck. He didn't have the heart to give in to the urge to wake her up and make her repeat the words. He tried removing her arms from around his neck but she held on to him tightly.

He couldn't move his head very far but his hands were free to roam around at will over her desirable body to which clung the negligee.

Gautam ran his hands over her slim thighs that had tormented him since the evening before at the swimming pool. Sangita moved restlessly under his touch. Her arms fell away from his neck as she lifted her body in sleep to bring it close to his.

He raised his head to look at his wife. Her full breasts rose and fell gently along with each breath she took. Gautam stared, fascinated, as he cupped her left breast. It filled his palm as her nipple nudged his hand. His body shook in response.

He gently circled the peak with his thumb staring at her right breast which responded by perking up. He bent his head to take the nipple into his mouth through the soft fabric. Sangita moaned in her sleep.

He sucked gently on one breast while he caressed the other with his right hand. Sangita's limbs thrashed about restlessly. Gautam desperately wanted to tear her nightgown off and make wild love to her.

He lifted his head to look at Sangita once again. He removed his hand away from her with great reluctance. A deep sigh shuddered through his aroused body. He pulled the sheet over her and went to take yet another cold shower.

The next morning, Sangita was like a bear with a sore head. She had had this erotic dream or that was what she thought it was. Her husband had fondled her breasts and then stopped midway. She thought that it was symbolic and confirmed his waning interest in her.

Shobita Banerjee was a thirty-five-year-old single woman who didn't believe in the institution of marriage. She was quite attractive although not conventionally beautiful. She was tall, dressed casually in dark blue jeans and a bright yellow T-shirt. She had a tinkling laugh that broke forth too often for Sangita's liking.

The dinner was a torture for the young bride. Gautam tried his best to draw his wife into the conversation but her anger kept her sticking to monosyllables. Thatha and Patti contributed to the generalities but it was mainly Gautam and Shobita doing most of the talking.

The three of them sat on the verandah after Vimala and Ganapathi had gone to bed. At 10 pm, Shobita got up to say, “Gautam, can you please leave me near an auto-rickshaw stand? It's been wonderful catching up on old times.” There was a sensuous tone in her voice as she gave Gautam an intimate smile, or so it appeared to Sangita.

“There won't be any need for that, Shobita,” smiled Gautam. “I'll drop you at your hotel.”

“That's so sweet of you, Gautam,” sighed Shobita, her pleasure obvious. Actually, she was surprised to find Gautam paying her so much attention, something he had never done when they worked together. Marriage had obviously mellowed the man, thought Shobita.

“Bye, Sangita, it was nice meeting you,” smiled Shobita.

Sangita gave her a small smile saying, “Nice meeting you too.” The words stuck in her throat much to her husband's amusement. He'd been watching her like a hawk through the evening.

He kick-started his motorbike and turned it towards the gate. “Come along, Shobita.”

“How wonderful!” she gushed. “I've never ridden a motorbike before.” She sat behind him, her hands clutching his shoulders.

As the bike moved forward, she gave a small shout of alarm and held on to his waist, her body pressed close to his back.

Sangita saw red. The temper that had been simmering under the surface rose higher and higher.

That night Gautam didn't make the mistake of coming home late. He didn't want his wife to be asleep when he returned. He knew that she was spoiling for a fight as her brown gaze had challenged his blue one many a time during the course of the evening. He hoped to tap all that passion tonight.

She was pacing the floor of their bedroom agitatedly, her hands behind her back. Gautam observed a trifle regretfully that she was back to wearing a cotton nightie. He braced himself for the battle as he entered the bedroom while checking that the connecting door to Sandeep's bedroom was locked. He didn't want their son to wake up in the middle of what promised to be a full-scale war.

Sangita came and stood in front of him in the middle of the room, her chest heaving with the tight lid she had placed on her temper. Gautam stood there, watching her with great interest, much to her chagrin.

She wanted to scream; to rant and rave; to tear at his hair. She was shocked at her own reaction. It had never mattered to her when Giridhar had kept Rosy. Just watching Shobita put her arms around Gautam made her want to pluck the other woman's eyes out.

“Are you through?” she asked him mildly, her voice hoarse.

“Through with what?” asked her husband, his stance quite cool despite the boiling need filling his body to possess the flaming woman in front of him.

“Insulting me, of course,” drawled Sangita, trying to be coolly sarcastic. Only her voice embarrassed her by almost breaking. She took a deep breath, trying hard to bring some semblance of control to the rage running through her. “Why did you marry me?” she snarled.

“Because I love you,” said Gautam, with sincerity. “Desperately,” he threw in for good measure.

Tears appeared in Sangita's eyes. “Then why were you flirting with that...that woman?” she asked harshly.

Gautam looked down at his angry wife. She looked fabulous, her face burning with colour, framed by her dark hair. “Is that what I was doing?” he asked mildly.

Sangita's temper flared out of control on hearing his question. “You fraud! You rogue!” Her voice rose with each accusation. “You spend the night out with her till two in the morning. Today she clings to you like a limpet while riding pillion on your bike and you ask me whether you were flirting with her? If that's not flirting, then what is?” she snarled, her fists clenched tightly.

“Sangita, listen...”

“No, I won't. How dare you bring your girlfriend to meet me? How dare you?” she pummelled him hard against his chest, her anger finally breaking its limits.

Gautam was still for a few moments, allowing her to get the anger out of her system before catching her fists, completely enclosing them.

“Listen, my darling.” She looked up at him, her cheeks wet with angry tears. “You've broken rule no. 1,” he charged softly.

“I don't care,” she said. “You don't love me anymore. Why should I follow your stupid rules?” she accused.

Gautam shifted both her fists to his left hand and gently wiped her wet face. “But you love me,” he said softly, his eyes glowing.

Shock was written on Sangita's face as she watched him warily. How did he know? She had dreamt the previous night that she had told him so. It had been a dream, or hadn't it?

She looked at him searchingly. “Who said so? It's not true.”

“Liar!” It was his turn to point a finger. “You told me so last night.”

“That was before. I don't love you anymore. You go to your girlfriend,” she said heatedly.

“But, Sangita, Shobita's not my girlfriend,” said Gautam.

“No?” Her voice rose again as she tried to extract her hands from his. His right arm had curled around her waist, pulling her inexorably closer to his body. “Then why did you come home so late last night?” Sangita couldn't keep the hurt from her voice.

“I'm so sorry, my love. I had been with some friends...”

“Don't lie to me. You went out with Shobita,” she interrupted, her eyes burning with rage.

“I don't lie, Sangita.” Gautam looked into her eyes intensely. “She went to her hotel at the same time as today. Some of us guys went to the beach for a while after that,” he explained.

“But she clung to you like a leech today. Wouldn't you call that flirting?” she asked him furiously.

“No,” said Gautam.

“No? What do you mean?” Sangita's frown deepened.

“Just that, my love. I never flirted with her. Clinging to me was her idea.”

“But you must've felt something,” she said, desperately hoping that he would deny it.

“Yeah,” drawled Gautam, his blue eyes studying her face keenly, “maybe what I would feel if a stone pillar or a tree trunk clung to me.”

Sangita looked into his eyes, wanting to believe him.

“Believe me, sweetheart.” Gautam released her fists to put his arm around her. “From the moment I met you, all other women have ceased to exist,” he whispered in her ear. “I love you and only you,” he declared passionately.

Sangita glared at him, her hands pressed against his chest, refusing to allow him any closer. “Is that why you wouldn't hug or kiss me properly?” she asked, hurt the predominant expression on her beautiful face.

“Sangita!” he sighed. “There's only so much a man can take. Holding you in my arms is heaven. But my body wants more than that...”

“You stopped touching me intimately.” She had to say it once for all. “The other day when I was upset about your father paying money for me, you touched my...my...” she stopped, too shy to continue.

“Your beautiful breasts,” Gautam helped complete the sentence.

Sangita was beyond feeling shy now. “Yeah. But you never touched me thereafter.” Her lips drooped sadly. “I suppose you don't like my figure...”

“You suppose wrong, my darling. I adore your figure.” Gautam cupped her breasts to prove it to her. She wasn't wearing a bra and her breasts responded immediately. Sangita's eyes closed under the onslaught of sensations. His touch woke up nerve ends that she had never known existed. He fondled her gently, bending down to nip her ear lobe. “You're just perfect, sweetheart.”

“Then why...?” Sangita stopped as Gautam's left hand moved away from her body. She felt bereft. He lifted her right hand and placed it against his masculine hardness. He had expected Sangita to move her hand away. But, to his surprise, she rubbed her hand gently over him. Gautam groaned loudly.

“Are you aware of what you're doin' to me?” he asked, his voice slurred.

Sangita shook her head, her eyes slumberous with passion. “You tell me.” Her hand refused to let go of him.

“You keep that up, sweetie, and I'm gonna make a fool of myself,” he growled.

Sangita stopped immediately, not knowing what she was doing wrong. “Will you please teach me?” she asked her husband sweetly. “I don't know anything about making love,” she confessed shyly.

“I'm delighted to be your teacher,” he declared fiercely, before lifting her into his arms and walking to the bed.

“Gautam,” Sangita clung to his broad shoulders, revelling in his strength. Maybe today her erotic dream would come true and end differently, she thought.

“What erotic dream?” asked her husband as he placed her gently on the bed. Sangita blushed as she guessed she had spoken aloud. She couldn't meet the blazing blue eyes.

“Nothing.”

“Sangita!” She looked at him. “You had a dream that we were making love?” Gautam asked.

She nodded shyly. “Last night,” came out in a whisper.

He ran his hands through her hair in a loving caress. “That was no dream,” he said.

“Gautam!” Sangita's voice was shocked, her eyes wide.“

Yeah, my lovely wife. I couldn't resist you in that negligee. You're too gorgeous.” His hands moved to her face, tracing each feature lovingly as he felt the heat of her blush.

Sangita protested when he got up.

“Just a second, love,” he set to remove his shirt in a great hurry. Sangita watched, first with shyness and then with fascination. He kept his briefs on before moving to her.

“May I?” he asked as he lifted Sangita once again. She didn't stop him as he removed her nightie over her head in one sweep and dropped it on the floor.

Sangita stood in front of him, clad in bikini briefs, her arms crossed protectively over her chest. She shivered as she felt an odd sense of déjà vu.

Gautam lovingly prised her arms away from her body and held them at her sides, drinking in her beauty avariciously. She straightened her shoulders to give herself courage, thrusting her breasts forward unconsciously. Gautam took the tip of one breast between the thumb and forefinger of his hand and pinched it gently.

Sangita's whimpered in delight. She so wanted to touch her husband. Gautam pressed his lips to the pulse beating wildly at her throat. Her free left hand buried itself in his golden-brown locks, pressing him closer.

“Sangita!” His lips found hers as he hauled her against his body, his bare chest pressed against her naked body.

Multiple sensations turned her breathless when her husband's tongue foraged her willing lips. He drank thirstily from her before trailing wet kisses on her shoulder. He nipped her skin gently before raising his head to look at his wife.

“You okay, beautiful?” he asked considerately, not wanting to overwhelm her on their first night together.

Sangita nodded her head before saying, “I missed your kisses.”

“I was so hoping you would,” confessed Gautam before bending down to kiss her once again.

He pushed her down on the bed gently, without breaking the kiss and stretched himself on top of her. He wanted to savour her. His hands glided over her smooth skin and his lips caressed her body from head to toe, relentless in their giving of pleasure. She felt driven over the edge as he cherished her breasts and caressed her legs; he plundered her lips and adored her body.

Sangita's form trembled with an emotional outburst she couldn't identify as she saw her husband kneeling at her feet.

“Gautam, what are you doing so far away?” she grumbled, opening her arms invitingly.

“In a minute,” he said as he rubbed his large hands on her tiny feet.

“Gautam,” giggled Sangita as she kicked, “I'm ticklish.”

“Are you?” he grinned before bending down to bite the soft pad of her big toe.

The giggles got stuck in Sangita's throat as she felt him gently suck her toe.

“Gautam,” she moaned, her hands clutching fistfuls of the bedspread. She wanted to hold him tight. “What are you doing...?” her hoarse voice faded away.

“Loving every inch of you,” he said.

He worked his way slowly around her instep, her ankle and then her calf. Sangita was exploding with passion by the time he reached her knees.

She'd never in her wildest dreams imagined that the backs of her knees had so many nerves in them. Sangita moaned as she felt his hand caressing her thighs. Oh! It felt so wonderful.

Gautam's hands burnt in desire against her skin that seemed ignited.

He paused and looked at her for permission to go further up. Sangita opened her eyes, wondering what had stopped him. When she saw his face, she gave a small nod.

He pulled off the remnant of clothing that was covering her deepest desires and threw it along with the rest of their clothes.

Sangita whimpered as his hand cupped her femininity gently. She jumped off the bed and threw herself against him, her craving at its peak. Gautam held her close with his left arm as his right rubbed gently at her womanhood.

He kissed her, suckled her breast rhythmically as his finger dipped into her innermost pit of desires. She was hot and wet after all his ministrations. The whole sensation was new to Sangita as his lips tugged at the tip of her breast in synchrony with the finger dipping into her femininity and walked her to the climax. Her head fell back on his shoulder as she gave in to the wild sensations that her body had never experienced before.

Sangita exploded in his arms as she felt the first orgasm of her life gushing through her body. “Gautam!” Her nails dug into his muscular shoulders as she bit into his neck. “I love you,” she said, her voice fervent.

“Say that again,” he said as he pulled her spent body on to his lap.

“I love you,” she kissed his forehead; “I love you,” his cheeks; “I love you.” Gautam took her lips in a long, deep kiss.

She looked at him with a wide smile as he lifted his head. “I didn't know that making love could be so fantastic,” she told him in a whisper.

“And we've just touched the tip of the iceberg,” he said smugly.

“Gautam,” she said shyly, pressing her blushing face against his hard shoulder. “You haven't had any fun.”

“Says who? 'Twas too much fun loving you. You're so beautiful, my dear wife. Your eyes remind me of molten chocolate, your skin is like the smoothest of silks,” Gautam paused to kiss her as Sangita glowed under his sincere praise. “Your lips taste like the finest of wines and kissing you intoxicates me. Your body is just perfectly shaped and fits mine so well. We are simply made for each other.” He pulled her close to his own as if to prove his words. “Oh, Gautam,” said Sangita, running her hands over his chest, finding great enjoyment in feeling the tight curls of golden-brown hair against her soft palms.

He held her hands firmly, stopping her. Sangita frowned up at him in protest.

He grinned as he shook his head at her. “Not now, later. I'm not finished with you yet,” he said as Sangita's brown eyes widened in disbelief.

And he started the whole ritual again, this time starting from the top and moving down as he used only his lips. Sangita's head moved from one side to another, partly in protest and partly in delight as he pinned her down on the bed with his hands while his lips went on a rampage over her slender body. He paused to take a nip here and bite there, driving her wild. Her body jerked with the need to hold him but he refused to free her hands.

As Gautam reached the apex of her thighs, Sangita thought, 'now he has to let me go'.

But to her utter shock and disbelief, she felt Gautam's lips against the core of her femininity. His teeth nipped gently as his wet tongue prodded the slightly swollen nub.

“Gautam,” groaned Sangita, louder than before, the heady sensation throwing her. He looked up, his passionate blue eyes catching her glazed, brown ones.

“No one does that,” she protested, half-heartedly, feeling guilty about enjoying her husband making love to the most private part of her body.

“No?” he asked, one eyebrow going up in enquiry. He didn't wait for her reply as he bent down to continue loving her.

Once she was all wet and ready, Gautam pulled off his briefs and settled himself between her legs. Sangita's legs went around his hips instinctively as his chest crushed her own. Her arms went around him eagerly as he set them free.

He entered her with a grunt of approval. She was perfectly hot and wet, fitting him like a velvet glove.

“Sangita?” She opened her heavy lids to look at him, “you okay?”

She nodded as she pulled his head to press her hot lips to his. Gautam's tongue thrust into her mouth hard, just as he submerged himself way below.

The tension built to a crescendo as Gautam and Sangita found their rhythm. Brilliant stars exploded behind Sangita's eyelids as she climaxed yet again. Gautam groaned as he followed her a few seconds later.

He fell against her slender body, totally spent.

Gautam moved slowly away, bothered that he might crush his petite wife. She protested loudly. “Shh, sweetheart,” he pulled her against him, “I'm goin' nowhere.”

Sangita pressed close to him, not wanting to leave his arms, ever.

“So, Mrs. Sinclair,” said Gautam, lifting her chin to look at her face that was more beautiful than ever, “do you still think you are frigid?”

A wild blush bloomed on Sangita's cheeks. “I never knew. I didn't think...”

“I'm glad,” said Gautam intensely, holding her close against his side, “I'm glad you didn't know before you met me. I'm glad that it is I who got to teach you all about making love.”

Sangita smiled drowsily as she stretched against him like a cat that had swallowed a pot of cream, absolutely satiated. She reached a hand to touch his nipple, caressing it with her fingers, the same way he had, hers.

Gautam moaned as his body hardened immediately in response. He turned on his back and pulled her on top of him. Sangita's brown eyes widened. “Use your lips,” he ordered.

A gleam of mischief entered her eyes as she pinned his arms to his sides. She shook her head at his loud protest, her eyes dancing. She pressed her lips to his forehead, his eyelids and then his cheeks one by one, her breasts brushing tantalisingly against his chest.

“Keep your arms down, Gautam,” she ordered sweetly as she needed to free her own. She waited for him to agree.

He opened his eyes to see what had stopped her. She was sitting on his stomach, her naked breasts gleaming. “Get on with it, woman,” he growled.

“Promise me,” she challenged, “I want you to keep your hands down,” she said.

Gautam looked at the determined lift of her chin and groaned his agreement.

“That's better,” she said before removing her hands to place them on his muscular shoulders, her soft palms caressing him to distraction. Her lips pressed against his, her wet tongue running over his lower lip. She nipped at him gently, seeking entry into his mouth. Gautam made a growling sound in his throat as he put his arms around his wife and pulled her close.

Sangita lifted her head and gave him a mock glare.

“What now?” objected her husband.

“Your arms. You promised to keep them by your side.”

“Don't torture me, Sangita,” he protested once again.

She shrugged delicately. “What's sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander!” she told him with firm sweetness.

“What have I unleashed, I wonder?” asked Gautam, rolling his eyes at the ceiling, not taking his hands from her slender hips.

“Keep your arms down and you will find out,” she told him coolly before removing his arms and placing them gently at his sides.

Gautam smiled at his wife's determination. “Okay, I give in, this once. Now please continue,” he beseeched.

Sangita grinned as she pressed the tip of her tongue to his dimple. “Have always wanted to do that,” she told him before once again kissing his lips thoroughly.

She moved down, using her hands and lips to drive him mad. She steered clear of his masculinity and crossing his muscular legs, reached his feet. She used her lips and teeth to drive him over the wall.

Sangita slowly moved up and cupped his engorged manhood in both her hands and caressed him.

Unable to bear the teasing anymore, he lifted his arms to pull her body over his. He lifted her hips to thrust himself into her. With her startled eyes looking on, he lifted her hips off him and plunged into her once again. Sangita caught on soon and rode him perfectly before the two of them collapsed after having climbed the path to heaven yet another time.

Gautam hugged his wife as he pulled the cover over both of them. He kissed her on her forehead and said, “I love you, my darling Sangita.”

Sangita sighed contentedly as she snuggled close to his large, masculine body, her faith in humanity restored for good as she went to sleep in her adoring husband's arms.

24

2015...

Gautam saw his wife sitting near the swimming pool, lost in thought. He went up to her and touched her on the shoulder. “What's up?” he asked.

Sangita came back to the present as if she was waking up from a dream, a mild shiver running up her spine. That had been one long trip down memory lane. She smiled at him, her cheeks flushed. She got up and hugged him before asking, “How was your day?”

“'twas fun! And you? You look happy,” he said, a teasing note in his voice.

“Yeah, I'm extremely happy,” she smiled “That Aarti from Women's Freedom had some questions for me. Answering them set me thinking. It has been a long journey for me, from the meaningless existence that my life was before meeting you, to where I stand today. I began to live only after meeting you. And now, with you for my husband, three adoring kids and my NGO, I truly have a purpose to life.”

Gautam looked at the damp sheen that had formed in his wife's eyes as she spoke. He had loved her from the moment he first set his eyes on her. Today, he loved her all the more for what she had made of herself. His kissed her on her lips and said, “I'm so glad to hear that, my love. None of us—Penn Urimai, our kids or me—can survive without you.”

'A short story is, often, the toughest form of storytelling. It has to be concise, yet replete with just enough detail; not too long winding, yet not too short. And when it comes to an anthology of short stories that need to be bound under a theme, the rules become stricter. Each story has to complement the other and yet hold its own.

Well, as it happens, Chronicles of Urban Nomads checks all of these boxes and more.'

—THE HINDU

India's First Composite Novel

"Just when you thought there couldn't be anything new about the format of a novel, here comes a home-brewn novelty—a composite novel, spun out of a set of short stories told by diff erent authors. Each story is a unique adventure for the reader, yet criss-crosses and knots into the weave and weft of the next, each with a diff erent design and texture, never predictable, always surprising, and yet quite whole. For the reader its like a set of master chefs in diff erent cuisines coming together to off er you one hell of a multi-cuisine, multi-course meal, like you've never had before."

—SIDDHARTHA BASU

Quiz Master, Actor, Director-Producer of KBC

Rudraksha, When Gods Came Calling is an attempt to bring together tales from across the vast length and breadth of India, a land that is steeped in mythology. It is about gods and goddesses, mythical creatures, ancient folklore and tales that abound in every village. Some of these are oftheard stories. Some have seldom gone around. Some are spoofs. Some are parodies. They walk the ancient India or sound the chimes of modern India. From the celestial love of Shiva-Parvati, to the raging avatar of Kalki, from myths and legends of Brahmaputra to the stories of the Mahabharata, Rudraksha has it all. And there is more. Reading spoofs on present day icons provide high entertainment as do the satirical twists parodying modern issues; all through the perspective of mythology.

The Dove's Lament is a journey that takes you around the world, bringing to life the human side of conflicts that tear people apart. From the genocide in Rwanda, to war-stricken Bosnia, from child marriages in India to prostitution and drug trafficking in Colombia, these stories traverse a microcosm of reality. Be it the manifestation of Bacha Baazi in Afghanistan, or the fight for paradise on Earth, Kashmir, the repertoire of stories lend a soul to what otherwise remain a muddle of news reports and statistics. Through these stories, the author, Kirthi Jayakumar embroiders a tapestry of the unvanquished human spirit in varied shades, and shakes you up to the reality that surrounds you.

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24