CHAPTER NINE

Two more weeks passed and then a third. By then I had pretty much settled into my new life. I’d explored every corner of the house and had begun to build up a special bond with every member of the family, especially Gunjan and Shreya. Gunjan was so sweet and silly. She reminded me so much of my Kavya.

Shreya and I quickly became the best of friends. We would eat chocolates together, we laughed together constantly, and we played together every day from kitchen set to hide and seek. After the first week, she would come to me in the evenings and just sit next to me while she did her homework. After a couple days I found myself helping her, answering questions when she had them. We quickly fell into a routine, and I looked forward to homework time each day.

Arnav was different from his family members. Unlike everyone in the house, he didn’t talk much and he was always involved in his work. The man was a workaholic through and through. At night he never just relaxed. He’d either be talking on his phone or searching for something on the internet from the moment he came home, to the moment he laid down for the night. No matter how busy he was though, he always found time to tease me. Although he is a devil, I’d started to feel a little attraction to him. Being with him and that teasing he did, it was a part of my new routine. He cared for his family. One can see that in the little things he does. In the way he looks at his mom, his niece, his sister, and his brother. I’d begun to think that maybe he cares for me, too. We hadn’t spent much time talking to each other though.

He had his own way of being with the people he cares about. Of bonding with them. Even though we didn’t have many heartfelt conversations, we’d developed a few little affectionate routines. Often when I walked out to breakfast in the mornings, wearing something new or pretty, he would cat call and exclaim, “beautiful!” Whenever I would thank him for the compliment, he would change the topic and ask,

“This saree, who's choice was it? I'm damn sure it wasn’t yours.” He could irritate me like no other, but all I could do was curse him in my mind.

I hit my limit one day, with his barbs and teasing. On the twelfth of June we went to a party. It was a business party which he’d asked me to accompany him to. All of his staff had been invited to come with their families. I refused at first, just to be difficult, but when Maa insisted that I go, I couldn’t deny her.

I wore a black saree with silver A.D. work curling along the border and a platinum chain with a small diamond pendant at my neck. My earrings matched and dangled elegantly, almost brushing my shoulders. Before we left that night, Maa, Shreya, and Gunjan all fawned over me. Shreya announced to the house that I looked like a princess, but Arnav didn’t say a word. His eyes were just fixed on me for a moment when he first saw me on the staircase and after that he didn’t even look at me properly.

As we reached the party, he opened the car door for me and stretched out his hand. I kept my hand on his and we moved inside. It was the first time he’d taken me to meet his staff and all the other executives of our city. I was self-conscious as we were walking in and I was constantly fixing either the pleats of my saree or my hair. Arnav had noticed. Why could he never just ignore things like that? He grabbed my bare waist, pulling me close to him and whispered in my ear, “Kriti ji, everything’s okay. You look perfect. Don’t be so worried.” His touch left a brand, jolting me internally, and his words worked like a magical potion, sweeping away my insecurities. At least, he’d said something about how I looked. I dared to look at him but he was walking steadily away, without turning his head toward me.

We were welcomed by everyone. I was being greeted as ‘Mrs. Gupta’. I noticed most of the men and women were in their late thirties or forties but Arnav and I were the youngest couple. I had been impressed by his skills from the first day, but I didn’t know that my husband was so young yet so successful in this capitalist world.

It was a little stressful for me in the beginning, but after a few hours I had mingled up with most of the people there. We were joined by a few more couples as we sat comfortably on the sofa, Arnav sitting exactly opposite to me.

The ladies were posing us different questions about our honeymoon to which Arnav countered, “we haven’t planned it yet.” The oldies were too excited to see us together as we seemed to be a constant source of amusement for them. I sipped my cocktail when the DJ decided to torment us.

He changed the music to a romantic theme and one of the ladies exclaimed, “Mr. Gupta, why don’t you and Mrs. Gupta dance together?”

Mr. Gupta was left speechless, nervousness crossing his face. Even I had nothing to reply her. Shock was too simple a word for the state of my mind, it was a tsunami for me. Our eyes met when Arnav came to my rescue.

“Oh! No, we aren’t in a mood for dancing. We’re both a little tired.”

The ladies were in no mood to compromise. One woman sniffed, “Oh! Don’t be so shy. As if you people haven’t danced together before,” she joked.

Before we could deny her further, the small group had already started to cheer our names. We had to relent, and Arnav stood up from his seat, came close to me and stretched out his hand asking softly, “Mrs. Gupta, will you join me for a dance?”

In a heartbeat I’d put my hand in his and we were suddenly in the middle of the dance floor.

I had learned some dance at home, watching online videos. I had no idea how he could have known that. The music started and our bodies came close to each other. One after the other, lost in his eyes, our steps matched in perfect rhythm. The look on his face was desperate, his eyes burning with something. Something which I couldn’t place. Was it passion? Was it lust? Was it affection? I was lost in his gaze, the hypnotism working again. I was feeling everything, his hand trailing on my back, his fingers playing through mine.

Before we could get closer to each other, the music stopped and we separated, the crowd cheering us loudly and clanking glasses in our name.

“To Arnav and Kriti.”

Arnav’s eyes abandoned mine, as I paced back a few steps and he beamed at the crowd. Those minutes when we were in each other’s arms were something which wouldn’t leave my mind, not even for a second. For the first time ever, I felt a connection with him. I suddenly saw him as a man I could have a crush on. Not as my husband.

Later that night, I was feeling unusually giddy. The images of us on that dance floor were still floating through my mind. It felt so strange there in his arms. That was of course something I had felt before, but not like this. I’d been growing fonder of Arnav, day by day.

When we finally made it home, Arnav left me to get ready for bed and I flopped down on the fluffy down comforter, laying on my stomach with my purple journal. He was downstairs, and I started to write down about those few minutes on the dance floor.

“I feel so charmed when you look at me like this, I don’t know what you have in those magical eyes…”

I could only write a few lines before I sensed his presence in the room. I snapped my diary shut, feeling embarrassed. Arnav was standing next to the door, and I felt guilty, like he’d caught me red-handed doing something awful. My face paled as I worried he would ask to see my writing. I couldn’t be this open with him. I didn’t trust him enough to let him see what I actually thought about him. I couldn’t let him know, that would have made me weak. I didn’t want to be unguarded.

“What’s wrong, Kriti ji?” he asked, face falling in soft concern.

“Nothing,” I said timidly.

I looked at my diary and was uncomfortable with him there, in front of me. I had never been able to write in front of anyone. I had kept it a secret since I was sixteen. He sat on the corner of the bed. My diary had always been my friend, my respite from loneliness, and the bond I shared with her was too special for anyone to understand.

“Are you sure? Are you busy with something?”

I wasn’t really sure what to say to him. I wanted to tell him to leave so that I could go back to my girlish musings, but I also didn’t want him to leave me alone in that room. I didn’t know what it was, the alcohol which messed with my emotions or that dance. I was craving his presence.

“Um, yes, I was a little bit busy. Did you need something?” I tried to bring back myself to normal.

“Oh,” Arnav was surprised. He shifted his gaze to the pillow for a second and then again to me. “No, I’m just ready for bed. Should I go? I’m sorry, if I disturbed you,” he replied in a genuinely alarmed tone.

“No, it’s okay. You can stay here. It’s just—” I stopped midway for I didn’t know how to answer him. I felt exposed, as if he had seen me naked with all my emotions oozing out like sweat from my body.

He paused, evaluating my answer “Kriti ji, do you mind if I stay here? If you need anything, you can tell me.”

“No, nothing. Just stay here.” I gestured to his side of the bed. He moved to sit down and I went back to scribbling down my deepest, darkest thoughts. I tried to focus on writing, but I knew that Arnav was staring at me.

“Kriti ji?” he called my name in a soft, sweet tone. “I’m sorry for asking this, may I know what you’re writing? I’ve never seen you do that before?” He was hesitant and continued, “it’s ok if you don’t want to tell me.”

I took a deep breath and told him a little secret about myself. Something which was between me and Akansha, which not even my Mumma knew. “Arnav ji, this is my diary. My second best friend in the whole world. And it is alright that you ask. I don’t mind.”

Arnav nodded. “So, do you write anything specific in there?”

“It can be anything really, just depends on the situation…how I’m feeling I keep it with me,” I gave him a stern look, “and nobody is supposed to read it.”

Arnav’s mouth softened, his eyes holding a look of friendliness. “If you need me to go so that you can write, I’ll leave for a bit. And don’t worry, I know this is your personal stuff, I promise I will never touch it.”

I felt the tightness in my chest relax as I saw the sincerity in his eyes. “No, I said na, it’s okay if you stay here. I’m sorry for being so rude.”

Arnav went back to his phone, and I wrote.

“I feel intrigued with that spark that gets ignited in the ocean of your eyes, every time you make me a promise…

I always want to know if you’re a magician who carries hypnotism in his eyes, for I feel subdued each time I stare into them…

I try to look deeper into your eyes for it seems as if there is a script hidden somewhere in them…

I try reading the story in your eyes, but I sense that cage around me…

And as soon as I realize that I am caged, the hypnotism falls away, and I feel like a wingless bird who is slowly shedding her colorful feathers one after the other…

I finished writing and I closed my diary. I didn’t want to read what I had written, it’s always hard to be confronted with your own secrets. I felt lighter, refreshed, now that I had expelled my fears onto paper. Arnav was still busy on his phone when I went and sat beside him. I was rubbing the moisturizer into my hands, when I noticed that a cold silence had grown between us.

“I always feel better after I write,” I told him without pretense.

“I can understand that.” Arnav looked up at me, evaluating. “Kriti ji, you know, today I’ve seen that there is a deeper side to you. A side of yourself which you don’t often reveal.”

I was frozen. I had always hid so much from people. I had always hid things from myself. But, in just one moment, how could he say that moreover, all he said was maybe true. I had been a coward all these years, refusing to face anything that unsettled me, and suddenly this man, was telling me about my own profoundness. My face lost its color and I stared into his eyes.

“And by your expression,” he brushed a wild strand of hair away from my face, “I think I’m right.”

The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. No one can know me. Not completely. The fact that this man, who’d stolen me away from my life seemed to see beyond what I wanted to show him, disturbed me.

I just said, “maybe.” Breaking that eye contact, I laid down on my side without giving him a second look. In my head, my subconscious was shouting, ‘no one can know me.’