TANGENT
WORLDS
Ch-3, Family Honor
Arnav entered
his house located in one of the most posh localities in New Delhi
But first…
“Hari Prakash!
HP!”
The poor man
came running to his boss,
“Yes, Arnav Bhaiya. Should I get you something?”
“A black-coffee
in my study, and make it QUICK.”
And without
waiting for an answer Arnav strode towards his study.
Once inside his
study, he took off his coat and tie and flung them at the recliner before
settling himself on the same, resting his fiercely pounding head against the
sturdy but comfortable head-rest and closed his eyes. In about ten minutes
time, there was a soft knock at the door and he turned to see his younger
sister Anjali hesitantly standing at the door with the coffee tray in her
hands.
“Bhai, wo
actually… actually I…”
“Oh, come in.
But why did you get it, where is HP?”
“Umm, its
nothing Bhai, I just didn’t see you all day, so I thought I’d get it myself.”
and with that she came in the study and placed the tray with his coffee mug on
the table.
“So, how is
college going? Anything I missed out on?” Arnav asked, his eyes closely
studying his sister.
“Nothing much Bhai,
studies are going fine but no rush you see as my exams just got over.” she
walked towards the flower-vase in the corner of the room, removing the flowers
from the vase and then putting the same ones back in, continuing further,
“And then I had a little fight with Dadi about
joining salsa classes, she was suggesting contemporary, but I really want to
learn salsa. Oh, and there is this national seminar thing being organized by my
Department…” she took the dust-cloth and started dusting some random files,
some that needed it and some that didn’t.
“…and we need to
submit a synopsis of our topic in order to get in, and I was thinking its worth
a shot, would look really cool on my CV.” she moved to the window, removing the
curtains and then closing them the next moment,
“Oh I have just
been blabbering, so how was your day, anything new? Hey Bhai I heard you were
meeting some Shyam person in the Oberai today, oh my friend was there, she saw
you. Anyway, so how did it go?” She stood near the window, her back to his
front but he could still see her fidgeting with her dupatta. A devilish smirk
graced his lips as he decided to play along.
“Oh, that was
just a business deal, nothing that would interest you Anjali.” he said as if to
just brush her off and taking the bait she turned around facing him.
“No. Yes. Umm I
know Bhai, but the thing is… umm, oh yes, you see the thing is that recently, I
have been reconsidering your suggestion, you know about doing MBA rather than
Masters in literature. So I thought that keeping track of such meetings would help
me. You know it could help me understand people because I know how important it
is in the business world.”
‘Hmm so she had the Raizada in her, but he
was the Alfa and he would decide what was right for her and when to let her
know of his decision concerning her life. After all he would only choose what
was best for her.’ Arnav thought to himself, proud of his younger sister’s
manipulative skills but prouder of himself for seeing right through it. Finally
he said after a small pause,
“Anjali, its
past midnight now and you shouldn’t be up so late. Go sleep, we shall discuss
your career some other time.”
“But Bhai I…”
Anjali tried to prolong the discussion, knowing what Arnav thought of her
Shyamji was very important for her.
“Goodnight
Anjali.” his tone beckoned finality and his sister of 20 yrs took the hint.
“Goodnight
Bhai.” and saying that she moved to the door, her face drawn long in sadness
when his voice stopped her,
“Anji you trust
me, right?” and it was in moments like these that the carefully constructed
mask slipped, giving one a glimpse of the man, the real Arnav, vulnerable in
love, scared of getting hurt, not as sure of life as he would like others to
believe he was. But to catch that momentarily glimpse one had to know him, and
Anjali prided herself on knowing the most of him, the most possible extent anyway
and how could she ever deny that man, her brother anything.
“Yes Bhai,
always.” she smiled one of her warm smiles for she knew he needed it.
“Goodnight
then.” he finally dismissed her with a barely there smile, moving towards his
locker, withdrawing a medium size file. Sitting down with his coffee and the
file, he glimpsed at the wall clock, 0:45 and he opened the file titled ‘Shyam
Manohar Jha’.
*************************************************
Khushi was
slumped beside the couch in their drawing-room. She still had the
phone-receiver in her hand. ‘How long had
it been?’ Khushi wondered. ‘Minutes,
hours, well it surely couldn’t be days but…’ she looked at the receiver in
her hand once again as if to convince herself for the nth time that what had
happened had actually happened and was not something her overworked, crazy mind
had conjured but… it was just too good to be true. ‘Was that really her? But… but, how could it be her?’ Khushi was struggling with herself, as much as
just a glimpse of her old self back, as she thought back to the conversation
she had had a while ago. She had picked up the phone to hear the broken sobs of
someone… a girl…a woman… HER? But before she could say anything else some other
woman had taken the call on the other side and had politely apologized saying
that her little daughter liked making prank calls. But Khushi knew that voice,
probably better than she knew her own, after all she had grown-up listening
bed-time stories from her, seeking her advice when something troubled her,
fighting with her when Hrithikji's and Salmanji's movies were coming on the same slot…
how could she ever not know that voice, her jiji’s voice.
But just moments
later her thought process took a bleaker turn, as the image of her father, pale
as dead, crossed her mind. And her mind took her a few months down the memory
lane, to another such call that had changed their lives forever. Shashi Gupta
stood still as a statue, the phone-receiver glued to his hand when Khushi’s
loud “Babuji.” made him stumble backwards and almost fall but Khushi was near
enough to reach him in time and break his fall. A very distraught Shashi Gupta
had informed his family that the call was from Payal’s hostel and the warden
had just informed him that some accident had befallen their Payal, and he was
required there urgently. The very concerned father had boarded the very next
train to Delhi and that was the last they saw or heard of him for the next two
days at the end of which he had returned, grim faced and alone, and had
announced to everyone that Payal didn’t survive the accident and that he had
stayed back to finish all the funeral rites in Delhi itself. The entire Gupta
household went under shock, but the relentless efforts of their neighbors and
friends the Kapoors and the Nigams reeled them back to life, everyone but
Khushi.
Khushi had a
hazy memory of what had followed, some rituals probably, as she recollected
something about a grand feast on the twelfth or thirteenth day following her
Jiji’s death. Were they celebrating it, her confused mind hopelessly tried to
put the pieces together. Relatives, friends and acquaintances had gathered and
mourned, initially, which was then followed by incessant gossiping about, why
didn’t Sashi bring Payal’s body back and that the entire fiasco reeked of some
scandal, finally winding up with some sagacious comments on the drawbacks of
sending young girls to dangerous cities like Delhi, all by themselves and that
too for studies, what good could one expect of such disastrous decisions. After
all even Sita Maiya had to face the consequences of trespassing the Lakshman
Rekha, it’s a pity that (wo)men never learnt anything from their past mistakes.
Sulekha Bua was trying to explain some such thing to Khushi, or was it Sapna
kaki…
She had smiled
then… as she was smiling now, one of those empty smiles that you hope to never
see, because if you did you know it shall haunt you forever.
“You have become
so much more than just my Jiji, Jiji.” Khushi muttered to herself, “You are
now, Payal Gupta, the cautionary tale.” and she smiled again. Something about
the situation reminded her of the poem she had read a while ago, ‘Goblin
Market’*, was it? How befitting it was to their
situation, tale of two sisters Laura and Lizzie… Payal and Khushi, though she
wondered who the Goblins were in their story? But not now, for now she would
revel in the fact that her Jiji was still alive, yes she was sure it was her
Jiji on the phone just moments ago… had life offered her a chance to be Lizzie,
to save her Jiji, her Laura…Khushi wondered. Khushi decided to tell her family about the
call, about her belief… how happy would Buaji and Amma be… and her Babuji… no
their Babuji, he would smile again and for real this time, unlike the plastic
smile he had been sporting since past several months.
But just when
she was about to knock her parents’ room, not bothering about the hour because
for sure it was the happiest one in so long, she heard some faint sounds coming
from inside, and as she heard Payal’s name, she halted in her tracks,
“I knew it was a
mistake, things would have been so much easier had I not told you the truth.
But remember this Garima, nothing, NOTHING has changed. Payal is dead. And the
sooner you accept it the better it would be.” Shashi Gupta had roared.
“But how can you
expect me to forget about my daughter, how can to tell me to just let it go,
when I know now that she is alive. She needs us, Devi Maiya knows in what
conditions she is living. Suniye ji*
we can atleast inform the police about it, they can help us find her. And once
she is found I promise she will never return back to Lucknow
“Do you even
realize what a scandal it would cause and with Khushi’s wedding so close?
Garimaji this is the last time that I am going to say this, so listen very
carefully, Payal is dead for us, we have just one daughter now, Khushi, and I
hope you will not ruin her chance at a respectable life because of your
stupidity.” and saying this Sashi turned his back to his wife, signaling the end
of discussion, while Garima fell on the ground, near her husband’s feet as her
knees gave away, resignation etched on her face as silent tears made their way
through her face. Buaji came and sat near her, supporting her form as her own
eyes stung with unshed tears,
“What do you
expect of her Sashi, she is her mother.” Buaji’s tone was accusing.
“And I was her
father but after what she did… Jiji its better for her and for our entire
family that she pulls her act together, if for nothing else then for her other
daughter, Khushi. And she is to get married in two weeks time and this time
I’ll let nothing, absolutely nothing ruin it.” and saying that Shashi made his
way out of the room when he halted seeing Khushi enter the room.
“No.” Khushi
said, her tone as steely as that of her Babuji’s.
“What?” fear and
confusion evident in his voice.
“I cannot and I
will not marry.”
“Have you lost
your mind, what madness has gotten into you. Invitations have been sent out,
relatives would start arriving any day now and you… how dare you say or even
think such a thing.” anger was evident in his voice.
“So what do
expect me to do Babuji, passively submit, get married to whom so ever you have
chosen for me and forget that I have a Jiji, who needs me, who would come
running by my side when I got into slightest of troubles? I can’t let her go
Babuji, I can’t, not after that call… not after knowing that she is still
waiting for me… waiting for me to come get her and bring her back home.” Khushi
was close to tears now, but determination was still present in it.
“It’s too late
to save her now. Oh God I could have saved her, if only I had not given into
her demands to let her pursue her studies and had just gotten her married as I
had planned earlier… I could have saved her.” something akin to regret in his
voice. “But not anymore, I will not let you ruin your life like Payal, do you
understand me. You will get married to Sumit two weeks from now and I’ll see
that it happens.”
“Babuji but
Jiji, she just called… and… and she was crying… she needs me Babuji, she needs
us. We… we have to save her… I will save her… like Lizzie… Laura… I have to
save her from those Goblins. Jiji… Jjjiji is alive… I have to bring her back. Delhi
“Payal is never
coming back, do you understand me, Never. She has lost her honor Khushi, she
was raped. She is dead to us, and she needs to remain dead for the sake of our
family’s name, for our family honor.” and saying that he moved out of the room.
Khushi was in
shock, her Jiji… her Jiji... no… no… NO. Khushi was still fighting with herself
when she felt someone jerk her back to life and she saw her Amma’s face
streaked with tears.
“Khushi bitiya,
everything will be alright, you don’t worry, ok bitiya.”
“But I couldn’t
save her… I wasn’t there when she needed me… she had to go through all this all
by herself… and my dreams…no my nightmares, she… she was calling me and I… I couldn’t
understand, she needs me… I have to save her… I have to go to Delhi
“Garima!” Buaji
was by her side the very next moment.
“Khushi, your
Babuji is right. You need to get married, we need to let go of Payaliya… this
is for… for family.” and she looked at her younger daughter with teary pleading
eyes.
“Amma, isn’t
Jiji family?”
PS: So how did you guys like it, feel free to express your opinions and yes I had warned you before that this is not a 'typical' Arhi romance and I have a lot of sub plots in mind for this story. Still I hope you guys enjoy the ride.
PPS: Here is a song I love, and it is dedicated to Payal and the likes of her who go through all kinds of tortures, while trying to survive in this tyrant patriarchal system. Here is cheers to all of us, survivors :)
Take Care
Srija :)
1 comment:
OMG
she was raped and her father just left her there?
what was her fault that a monster did that to her?
can't believe this, how can people still be like that and not understand that when a girl is raped it is NOT her fault
thank you for writing this chapter
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