Forbidden Desires (13 page)

Kaajal heard the phone ring while she was playing Connect Four with Vansh. She put a red coin in the slot and said, ‘There, connect four! I beat you!’

Vansh threw a fit. ‘No fair, Maasi. You cheated!’

Kaajal smiled and ruffled his head before picking up the phone. It was Tarini.

‘What are you doing? Want to go for drinks later?’ Tarini rattled off without waiting for a reply. ‘Let’s go to that Gurgaon place. Raasta na? We liked it last time. Shall we go there again or try something new?’

Kaajal rolled her eyes as she got up from the kitchen chair to make herself a cup of tea. ‘We just met yesterday, Tarini. Don’t you have any work? Such a housewife you are!’

Tarini felt offended. ‘Fine if you don’t want to go then it’s okay yaar. And what’s wrong with being a housewife? You know how much work we do?’

‘No! No. I’m kidding. I’m sure you have lots of work!’

‘Stop being sarcastic yaar. Not all of us want to work hard for the rest of our lives. Working at home and managing children is also a big task.’

‘How you people have no ambition is beyond me. But whatever floats your boat, honey. Of course I will go.’ Kaajal wondered if Tarini seriously had nothing better to do than spend all her husband’s money. Was this her life’s purpose? Kaajal had seen her mother suffer from being just a housewife. Their father had abandoned them when they were younger. It had left an indelible scar on her. She had promised herself two things. One, she would never succumb to marriage. And two, she would always be financially independent.

Tarini defended herself. ‘Not everyone is as ambitious as you are, Kaajal. Some of us enjoy looking after our families. That’s what gives us purpose.’

Kaajal didn’t interrupt Tarini. She loved her friend but honestly never understood her. She often asked Tarini probing questions like, ‘what would happen if your husband died and you had to look after yourself?’ Tarini would only laugh and say that wouldn’t happen. Kaajal would ask Tarini what she would do when her two children grew up and stopped needing her? Tarini would answer, ‘Find more friends to party with!’ Kaajal felt it was a waste of a life. Such an intelligent, talented person like Tarini could do so much with her life but was wasting it.

Tarini, meanwhile, often wondered why Kaajal was so judgemental and couldn’t bring herself to accept her for her choices and be happy for her. Maybe Kaajal needed some security in her life, like a good man and a happy marriage!

Kaajal didn’t want to argue. ‘Should we call a few people we haven’t met in some time?’

‘Like who?’

‘Varun and Kaushik?’ Kaajal laughed at her own joke. Wouldn’t it be absolutely delicious to go out with married men in a public place!

‘Yeah right. As if they’ll come.’

‘These bloody affairs I tell you. There’s never any dignity in them at all. Anyway, see you at Geoffrey’s at eight?’

‘Okay.’

Kaajal put the phone down and thought about it. Even though she loved Tarini, sometimes she felt their conversations were stilted. Tarini spoke about food, her husband, her affair, clothes, movies and the plays they watched together. She went on vacations with her husband and used his money to buy herself things. All the while she was having an affair behind his back. Somewhere Kaajal felt that was morally wrong. And yet society would always see her as the ‘other woman’ who ‘stole’ the man who had stood rightfully behind his wife. How strange society was.

Society applauded women who chose to get married, stay at home, raise children and live off their husbands. And yet it looked down upon women who chose to work to fund their own expenses, be suspicious about women who dated to find happiness and ridiculed women who chose to live alone and not be a burden on anyone. Housewives were applauded and single women were creatures the society didn’t know how to handle.

‘Strange.’ The only words that escaped Kaajal’s lips.

‘Maasi, can I go to Ameya’s house for a play date?’ Vansh suddenly asked, startling her a bit.

Kaajal asked, ‘Has his mother given you permission?’

‘Yes you can speak to her now.’

Kaajal took the mobile that was given to Vansh to talk to Ameya’s mother. It was stranger that Kavita and Gaurav had given their only child a mobile phone at the age of six. But since she wasn’t a parent, she hadn’t raised the issue. She thought it was too young an age for a child to get a phone. But Kavita felt that it was a small device that allowed him to call five numbers that were most important at any time and if he was in danger he could just press any number for an emergency. Kaajal thought this was exactly why she didn’t want to get married and have kids. It was a dangerous world to bring your child into. And you would never be able to do anything if all your thoughts and actions were on how to keep your child safe.

She hung up the phone and told Vansh to put his shoes on. She walked down the road to drop Vansh for his play date and was assured by the mother that she would drop him home by seven thirty. By that time Kavita would be back and she would be able to leave for her drinks date with Tarini.

As Kaajal walked back home, she felt acutely aware that she was being followed. She looked down at her Anokhi skirt and her full sleeve shirt. There was not a single inch of skin showing. Oh how she hated Delhi for this reason. Boys on bikes.

They passed by her and whistled.

She ignored them. She kept walking, her head held high.

Then she saw them take a U-turn and head back.

Her heart started pounding. She hadn’t carried her purse. She didn’t have a mobile either. She had simply walked out of the door with Vansh and a set of house keys.

The boys were coming back towards her.

Blood throbbed in her veins. Her head felt light. The sun was still out. They wouldn’t do anything. Would they?

She looked around. There was no one else around on this street.

The bike got closer. The boys were laughing. They had a plan.

Kaajal was scared. She knew she was defenceless. She had no pepper spray. She didn’t have a weapon. And there were two of them. Generally in such situations one goads the other. It was always about power with boys. They didn’t think about anything else at that time.

She didn’t know whether to scare them, as she had read once. Or should she just surrender so they would let her go? What did that article say? Why couldn’t you think of the correct thing when the time came.
I had a lot of information but I was stupid enough not to protect myself before coming out of the house!

The boys came close and slowed down. Kaajal did what came naturally.

‘Kya hai?! Kya chahiye?’ Suddenly she found confidence. She was carrying a set of keys. She knew she could at least use that to gouge out their eyes if she got the chance. Boys always thought women would be weak. Women Intersection would never harm a man if it came down to it. Yes, they were taught to ram their knee into the penis or poke their fingers into the boy’s eyes for self-defence but they were taught to be ‘good girls’. And that moment of split-second doubt was what allowed men to overpower women.

She ground her teeth and made her face red with anger. She showed them she was ready. And boys don’t generally like a fight. If they know a woman is strong and they’ll have to put up a fight, most often they’ll let the woman go.

The boys drove off, laughing and talking about her.

Well, bitching about me is better than anything else
, Kaajal thought as she ran back home and locked the door behind her. She had seen the faces of the boys. She would report them to the police so they wouldn’t harass anyone else.

She first called Tarini, ‘Hey. Let’s chuck the evening plans. What are you doing now? I need you to come with me to the police station. We need to put some goons away.’

‘Bhaiyaji! Bhaiyaji! Yeh kya hai?’

‘Madam, this is an enchilada.’

‘Inch ki ma ki?’ Simran asked as she looked at the dish in front of her.

Naina turned to her and said, ‘Simi, we’ve come to a Spanish restaurant. This is Spanish food.’

‘Rabba! Tum log bhi na. Kahan kahan se jagah dhoondh lete ho. Simple butter chicken nahin kha sakte kahin pe bhi? Bhaiyaji please take this back. What is this green thing? Yeh toh bilkul disgusting lag rahi hai mujhe.’

The waiter stood with his hands folded. ‘Sorry Ma’am, we can’t take it back unless you tell us what the problem is.’

‘The problem is ki mujhe nahin khana yeh vahyaat cheez!’ Simran’s voice became louder while Naina tried to solve the situation. ‘How about you try my paella?’

Simran and Naina exchanged dishes as usual and Simran still didn’t like it. ‘Yeh bohat bland hai.’

Naina told the waiter, ‘Can I have a dish of this chicken? Yes, please can you get that fast? This will go well with the paella. And please can I have two long island ice teas? Simran and I need them!’

Simran smiled at her friend, ‘Tu kitni badmaash hai. Drinking in the middle of the afternoon!’

‘I can’t believe she is having an affair!’ another friend piped in louder making Naina’s head turn towards the other end of the table.

Naina was at her monthly kitty party. It was a social group she had made when she put Shonali in school. Shonali, her firstborn, was just two years old then. She left her in play school the first day and stood outside the school the entire time. She howled as Shonali went into class. And soon enough she saw many mothers through the course of the week who howled alongside her. They became friends and started meeting once a week for a cup of coffee after dropping the kids. It eased their pain. They would discuss children and husbands and recipes. None of them were working then.

Soon they started having lunches, scouting new places to eat every Monday afternoon. From Hauz Khas restaurants to the latest theme cuisine at Khan market, Naina loved roaming with them. After she won Masterchef, she invited her group of eight girls home and cooked a lavish meal for them. But after that she got so busy that she had to stop going for weekly luncheon encounters and stick to meeting them once a month. You could either be social or be sensational. You couldn’t achieve success with both! So she decided to give it up. She took the occasional cooking class but the rest of the time she wanted to be a housewife. And she loved it.

Naina was meeting her gang after a long time. They had stuck together for eight long years. From raising children, to criticizing husbands, diets to disorders, miscarriages to mother-in-laws, renovating houses to plastic surgery, they did everything together and talked about everything. Everything except how bad their marriages actually were. Or how lonely they were, if at all. Those were things you didn’t discuss at happy lunches.

Once one of them had confided that her husband was having an affair and Naina had counseled her to go to a marriage therapist. There was no further conversation after that. That woman stopped coming to the group and shifted to a house far away. Naina wondered why women needed to be tough all the time. Why they needed to show this great pretence to each other that they were super women. Would vulnerability be such a bad thing? Would it come back to bite them?

‘Anjali, is that a new Louis Vuitton bag?’ one woman asked.

Anjali nodded. ‘I was getting tired of the old one. It was too big. I wanted something for just a few things, you know. I got it this time when we took our annual vacation to New York.’

They were all sitting in a new place started by Ritu Dalmia, Cordon Bleu Chef. It had lovely décor and the food was exceptional. Except for Simran, who didn’t like anything to eat anywhere, all the girls were enjoying themselves.

‘I’m watching my weight. I’ll have the grilled chicken please. No wine,’ Anjali told the waiter. But all the girls protested, ‘Oh please yaar. One glass of red wine is good for the heart. It has less calories than your bread in the morning.’

‘Yes but I need my bread. I don’t need wine,’ Anjali spat back.

‘Actually you don’t need any grains,’ Nandita remarked. ‘Our bodies are meant to eat everything raw.’ Nandita was a staunch believer in wholesome food. ‘I ferment everything. Vegetables, bread. It’s so healthy.’

‘I love fermented grapes!’ Naina said as she sipped on her wine, inciting giggles all around. ‘I’m not eating. At all. I’m on a diet. Only salads and soups!’

‘Grilled chicken is healthy yaar! Come on. It’s not as if you’re going to be an actress and all,’ Anjali chided Naina.

‘Arrey but she was on TV no?’

‘She looked lovely the way she was. Our own Indian Nigella Lawson,’ Anjali said as she winked at Naina.

‘Well she’s not on TV now. She can easily eat. As it is she doesn’t meet us no? So when she does, she should just enjoy herself.’

Naina smiled as she looked at all of them. This was her own group. Chatting and making sure the other person ate as much as the next woman so the guilt wouldn’t come down heavily at night. ‘You all have such bad relationships with food. We must treat it with respect.’

‘You want me to pray to it now? Is that also going in your new book?’ Anisha piped in as they all laughed.

‘No it’s just that when we know we’ll have enough tomorrow, we will stop overeating today.’

‘Arrey bhaiya kya bol rahi hai!’ Simran remarked with a wave of her hand and a slight nasal twang. ‘If I die tomorrow I shouldn’t feel I didn’t eat what I wanted. I want to be happy today. Not starving!’

‘If you die tomorrow, how will you know if you didn’t eat something? You’ll be dead na?’ Naina asked with a smile as wide as a Cheshire cat’s.

‘Hai Rabba! What you talk! Such nonsense, Naina. Like you want me to die. Chal katti,’ Simran said and didn’t mean a single word as a platter of deep-fried mozzarella sticks was passed around and they all took a helping, ignoring their diet and conversation completely.

Naina came back to the gossip, ‘So who was having an affair?’

Anjali said, ‘Apparently there is a girl called Kaajal, Kara, Karia, something like that. She works at this law firm. I don’t remember the name. She was caught sleeping with her boss and the partners have threatened to fire her. How come all women are blamed for such things? Wasn’t it the man’s fault as well? Why aren’t the men getting fired?’

‘So true. So unfair no?’ Naina said, shocked at such behaviour. In London there would be one policy and it would apply to both genders. Her mind raced back to when she was working as a chef and a manager had hit on her. She had immediately threatened to go to HR or sue the hotel. She was loyal to Kaushik. The manager had backed off and had been made to quit by the hotel. Even though she was much lower in the ranks, the organization had taken her word against his.

‘Hey Naina, tera pati bhi wahin pe kaam karta hain na?’ Simran asked and made her return from her reverie.

Anisha laughed at Simran. ‘There are so many law firms in this world, Simran! As if her husband will be in the same one.’

Simran instantly corrected herself. ‘Yes. But wouldn’t it be better if we got more gossip? Naina, ask your husband if this K woman is in his law firm. Give us some gossip on her.’

‘Arrey but who is she? Why are we so concerned about her?’ Naina asked, getting slightly perturbed that Kaushik could be working in a firm where such immoral activities were taking place.

‘She’s my sister-in-law,’ said Ishita suddenly. She called the waiter for another glass of water. ‘My brother is married to Kaajal’s sister.’

Naina was befuddled at the venom. ‘But why are you gossiping about your sister-in-law?!’

‘Because I just don’t like her. She has never gotten along with me. She makes fun of my accent and is jealous of everything I have. The new Michael course bag I got?’

‘Kors, yes,’ Anjali corrected her and asked her to continue. They always looked out for each other and a little correction about pronunciation never mattered. If it was coming from Kaajal it would be an insult; Kaajal looked down at her and laughed at her whenever she made a mistake.

‘Well, she said mine was a fake. From Bangkok! The little bitch. I can afford to buy original stuff.’

‘But I thought you liked your sister-in-law?’ Naina asked as she cleaned her hands in her finger bowl. They were all done with their meal.

‘I like my other sister-in-law. My brother’s wife, Kavita. She is so sweet to me. She gives me a free checkup anytime I want and she gives me important information, like which pill to take to delay my period if I’m going on a vacation to Monte Carlo. Kaajal is her sister. She is good for nothing. So old and still living with all of them.’

‘Girls, chalein? The kids will be waiting for us,’ Simran said as she looked at her watch.

‘Oh is that a new Dior watch?’ Anjali noticed.

‘No. No. Very old. You’ve not seen it? I only wear this.’

‘No you were wearing your Omega the last time we met?’ Anjali asked.

The chatter continued as they all dispersed from the restaurant and got into different cars.

‘Chal,’ Naina said as she air kissed all the girls on both cheeks, never touching her lips to their faces, ‘I’m headed home. I’ll catch you guys soon. My kids come home in a bus.’

‘Bye Naina. Now don’t be a stranger huh? Next Monday we’re going to Shamrock. It’s a new Irish pub. Maybe we’ll see some Irish men!’ Simran giggled.

‘Ab tum Irish khana khaogi?’ Naina was surprised.

‘Oh ho. Next time you only order for me. We’ll have fun. Come, come.’

Ishita said, ‘I’ll be back in Jaipur but I’ll see you next month, Naina. You know I can come only month mein ek baar. Because I do all my legal work here with my lawyer.’

Naina suddenly put two and two together, ‘Which law firm is it?’

‘Mukherjee,’ Ishita said. ‘That’s how I know Kaajal got thrown out. Her boss is in trouble now. Okay bye. Love you.’

As Naina got into her car, she dialed Kaushik’s number and he disconnected. She was dying to know who Kaajal worked for. Kaushik would tell her all the details in the evening. She couldn’t wait to find out all the gossip. And then tell her friends next Monday. Maybe meeting her friends was a good idea after all; it had kept her mood light and engaged her time. Friends really made her world go round.