Forbidden Desires (4 page)

Women always give their husbands a warning before they engage in extramarital affairs.

It’s the small signs that they do or say to give the man one last chance at saving his marriage. Naina gave Kaushik not one, not two, but three chances to save their marriage.

First, she booked them on a solo vacation where they could spend time alone. She ended up getting ridiculed; he simply said he could not go.

Then she cooked him his favourite meal. After all, people say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. She put on her best negligee to remind him she still had her moves. But he ate so much that later when they were alone in the room he said, ‘Naina, you’re too heavy now for me. Maybe you should not be eating everything you’re cooking for your clients, huh?’

She felt so humiliated after that, that she didn’t care anymore if they slept together again. She started giving him space, letting him sleep in the other room so he wouldn’t be so tired. She was nicer to his mother, and she stopped complaining about him coming home so late. She didn’t mention that the foreplay wasn’t enough for her during their monthly sexual ritual. She tried to initiate sex but he was always tired and even when they made love, it was all over within minutes, leaving Naina very dissatisfied. Usually she would have told him what she wanted and how she liked it and he would have given in. But she stopped complaining and was ready whenever he was or not so as the matter demanded over the last one year.

Kaushik didn’t understand any of her hints. One night they were sleeping in the same room when Kaushik started kissing her. She responded and ran her fingers through his hair. Then suddenly he opened his eyes and saw her in the dim light of the room. He held her shoulders, pushed her back and turned to fall asleep again. She was so shaken up by that event that she confronted him the next morning. But he denied anything had happened saying she had imagined it and was going crazy.

Naina even went to Kaushik’s office to have lunch with him once. She wanted to see if there were other women in his office who were flirting with him. But he had been in his office, talking on the phone when she walked in. He scolded her for not calling to tell him she was coming.

The last thing that Naina did to try and save their marriage was to talk to him about it. Communication could save all relationships. That’s what Naina believed.

‘What’s going on, Kaushik? Why aren’t you in this marriage with me?’

‘You’re talking rubbish, Naina. I’m here every night.’

‘That’s not what I meant. I meant that you’re not interested in this marriage. You’re not interested in me anymore.’

‘Don’t talk stupidly, Naina. You’ve been busy with your classes and I’ve been busy at work.’

‘So busy that you don’t have time to ask me how I’m doing? How my classes are going? You know, it’s a very sexy man I’m tutoring nowadays. I can easily sleep with him.’

Kaushik looked surprised. ‘Well I wouldn’t like that.’

Naina thought that it was the most horrible answer a husband could ever give his wife. ‘What would you like then, Kaushik?’

Kaushik remained quiet. Oh how she hated his silence. She knew he was a damn good lawyer. Sometimes he remained silent just so that the other person would make a mistake and it wouldn’t be his fault. Then he wouldn’t have to take the blame for the failure of his choices and in this case their marriage. But that was the court and this was their life! Why was he using the same stunt!

‘Kaushik, we’re not having sex anymore! We barely go out. We’ve not taken a vacation for a year or two now.’

‘Naina, bakwaas band karo. Just because your friends go on vacations doesn’t mean we have to. And we do have sex. Just not that often. And you’re to blame equally, Naina. So many times in the middle of sex, you want to go check if the door is locked or you suddenly want to switch on the AC because you’re feeling hot. Or you want to close the curtains. It makes me lose my concentration.’

‘But I just don’t want the girls to walk in or the neighbours to see. What’s wrong with that? We live in a conservative society.’

‘I hate this society. I hate being in India. We were so free in London. And now you’re always doing what your friends are doing. Wanting to become like them. Talking like them. Wearing clothes like them. Look at you. In suits. You would never wear salwar kameezes! How terribly boring you’ve become. I’m not attracted to you anymore! It’s difficult to have sex.’

Naina was shocked. She couldn’t move a muscle. She wore suits because they were comfortable. Because the Delhi heat only allowed women to wear loose cotton clothing. And whenever she wore a dress to go out, people would stare at her. If she was running around to do chores, she couldn’t be in tight jeans and uncomfortable clothes. She didn’t have the body to carry it off anymore.

Kaushik closed his book and mumbled, ‘I’m tired.’

She snapped at him, ‘You’re always tired.’

Kaushik’s tone was acerbic, ‘Because I’m always working.’

Naina was now in tears. He had humiliated her. ‘No one asked you to.’

‘Oh God, Naina. This is what I like to do. I’m on the verge of something really big. Do we need to have this talk today? Let me sleep, please.’

‘I’m telling you I’m planning to have an affair and you don’t want to talk about it? You call me unattractive?’ Naina felt slighted.

Kaushik turned off his bedside lamp and lay in his bed. ‘That’s not what I meant. Please. Now let it be. You’re just throwing a tantrum for no reason. Are you having your period? No? Then let this go. I’m dropping the kids to school tomorrow morning. I need some rest.’ And he turned around and went to sleep, completely dismissing her feelings and her need to communicate.

What was Naina supposed to do when she wanted to talk but Kaushik was unwilling to listen? What could Naina do when she wanted to save the marriage but Kaushik thought there’s nothing to save? What could Naina do when she’s being horribly belittled?

Maybe Naina should show Kaushik she was right about her threat.

Ayesha: Slim. Petite and flower-like. Oval face. Almond eyes. Exquisitely dainty nose adorned with a diamond nose ring that sparkled like her dark eyes. Long, rich, glowing auburn hair. Sharp as a knife. Soft-spoken. Demure. Loving. Caring. Perfect housewife. Had had an arranged marriage. Never loved her husband, simply believed in the idea of marriage and giving something back to her parents.

‘Chaal!’ Sanjay said as he put in a chip in the teen patti game.

‘That’s a lakh, Sanjay,’ Ayesha squealed partly in horror and partly in admiration for her friend’s lawyer husband who could afford such a high-stake table. Everyone from the party slowly gathered around the table as only two players remained. Sanjay, the lawyer who made a few lakhs every month, and Ayesha’s husband Varun, the IAS officer who made only fifty grand a month.

‘You’re afraid your husband is going to lose, Ayesha?’ Sanjay said with a cocky smile.

Ayesha clutched her heart. ‘Honestly I don’t like such high-stakes games. But you boys do whatever gives you happiness.’ Ayesha only partly meant it. If Varun lost this hand, they would lose three months of savings. Savings that were hard to come by.

‘Show!’ Varun said as he put in another chip and Ayesha’s heart fluttered again. Someone held her hand and she looked around to see that it was her friend Tarini from her school days. Tarini had fallen in love and married Sanjay, the lawyer, while Ayesha had had an arranged marriage a year later to Varun, an IAS officer. They had been best friends since they were five years old but their destinies had made one rich and the other struggle to keep up with expenses all the time. That’s when they had moved apart. Until they rekindled their friendship and began calling each other over for parties.

That’s why it was so important that Ayesha’s husband win this game. Sanjay could just take on a new client and earn the money back in a month. Varun, well there was no alternative. All he had was power. Several industrialists came to him for consent on their ventures. His peers had tremendous respect for his skills. And his powers also extended to other departments where he could just make a phone call and ask a colleague to get something done for friends who weren’t in the government. But power didn’t pay for fancy vacations or food. That Ayesha had to manage on his salary.

‘Ace!’ someone shouted as Varun put down his first card, slowly revealing his hand one card at a time. There was joy all around. Obviously many people were hoping Varun would win. It was his house. And he was also the underdog.

Ayesha looked around and saw the entire party gather around the table. It was her annual Diwali party and she had thrown a grand affair inviting all the IAS officers Varun and she knew, and some friends from the corporate circle. She had arranged seating in small circles all around her expansive living room so many people could move around and sit wherever they chose. Some groups wanted high stakes and sat around on a white gadda while some wanted lower stakes and sat on red round tables or on the floor seating arrangements strewn all around. There were diya stands with small burning lights in every corner. Large bunches of sweet-smelling flowers sat in bright coloured vases at different places across the room. The low lamps and the bright rugs gave the place a warm and cozy atmosphere. A bartender had set up a drinks counter at the far end of the patio that overlooked their large lawn which was covered with hanging twinkling lights and large lamps from FabIndia that swayed in the cool November breeze. Women were at their blingiest best. Rich hand woven, designer saris, Amrapalli jewellery, gold sandals, nail art on their hands, dark lipstick, perfectly blow dried hair and smoky eyes completed their looks. Diwali was a grand time in Delhi. It was a time for people to show off their houses, their marriages and their achievements and come together in a great camaraderie of friendship and fun.

The alcohol flowed and the snacks were warm and delicious. Ayesha had made sure the party was a huge success and everyone spoke about it for months as they always looked forward to being invited next year. It wasn’t only for the great hospitality. It was also a way for corporate clients to speak to IAS officers about their new businesses since each knew one needed the other for starting something new and finding out the inside gossip of the workings of the government or corporate sector. So the guests ranged from government servants to lawyers, businessmen to industrialists and bankers to entrepreneurs. People always made new friends at Ayesha’s parties and she was happy to contribute to her husband being at the centre of this growing network of people.

It would be the last party she was to throw in Delhi for a while. Varun’s posting in the capital was over and he needed to move back to his cadre, Lucknow. Every IAS officer had to spend a few years in the home cadre that was allotted to him after he came out of the Academy and then he would be posted to Delhi to be in the thick of things before his time was up. Then he would return to his state and that was mandatory. They were going to be shifting in January or February. Ayesha wasn’t looking forward to it at all.

Despite the dipping temperatures at eleven in the night, the table was hot with the two men slowly revealing their cards while everyone stopped playing, drinking or wondering if the kids had gone to sleep with the maids in the rooms inside. Ayesha had made every arrangement for everyone so they would think she was the perfect hostess and Varun and her marriage was perfect.

The truth was far from it.

The Truth was, as an IAS officer’s wife, one had to keep up with the pretences. The marriage, the job, the life, the kids, were supposed to be picture-perfect for the husband to succeed at work.

‘On the count of three,’ Varun said as he and Sanjay put their final card on the table. This was it. Ayesha was nervous.

‘Colour. Both have colour but Sanjay has King high. Varun loses!’

‘Awwwww!’ a chorus of voices let out a sigh at Varun’s loss. A wave of emotions swept over Ayesha. She let go of Tarini’s hand and said, ‘It’s alright. It’s just a game. Let me get dinner started.’ Then she smiled and tossed her long, warm chestnut hair back, gathered her lovely red silk sari and walked to the kitchen where she started giving orders for dinner arrangements.

While the entire party contemplated how unfair teen patti really was, Varun said loudly, ‘Let me get some more alcohol, guys. We’ll have one more game.’

Ayesha took a moment and went into her bedroom. It was large with high ceilings and a king-size bed in the centre. On the opposite wall was a television with a rack at the bottom. On one side of the room was a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf where Ayesha kept all her books. On the other side was her dressing table and a door attached to the master bathroom. She noticed there was some paint chipping off from the walls and wondered if they would ever have money to buy anything new in their house. The dressing table, the bookshelf and the bed they had had for the last eleven years of their married life. They moved with them whenever Varun got transferred and she was now sick. Sick of the furniture, of the moving, and sick of her husband playing high stakes with their finances.

Even though a housewife didn’t earn any money, her husband’s money was hers as well, wasn’t it? She kept house for him. Looked after his interests and raised a child whom he could be proud of. Should she have sacrificed all that for her own career and maybe had her own savings? She shook her head. It was too late to think about that. She had devoted the last eleven years of her life to this man. And now that she was in her mid-30s, she couldn’t think of what had gone by.

She looked at the mirror adjacent to her bed and saw a reflection of a very beautiful woman. A woman with luscious cream-coloured skin perfect blow-dried hair that was pinned back with a clip with a few strands around her face, large almond eyes and a tiny waist that didn’t show she had a ten-year old son. She had small breasts that were just perfect for her petite and flower-like build. She wore a gorgeous dark red sari with a golden border that her mother had given her last year. She wore silver jewelry that she had bought from their trip to Jaipur a few years ago. The last of their trips. Ayesha was the epitome of a gentle yet strong housewife anyone would be proud to have.

Just then, Varun walked into the room and went to his cabinet where he stashed the extra whiskey that he used on special occasions to impress people. He saw Ayesha standing in front of the mirror calmly reapplying her lipstick without as much as a hint of annoyance.

‘You know I had no option Ayesha, don’t you?’

Ayesha stayed quiet. They had this argument every Diwali. Every time Varun said he wanted a party to show all his friends how accomplished he was with his big house and his beautiful wife and every time he promised he wouldn’t gamble with his friends but simply play the bartender and conversationalist. And almost every year he lost some money. He was terrible at keeping his promises and even more pathetic at playing high-stake cards. But Ayesha had indulged him. Somehow, she felt guilty that she would be letting her father down if she ever spoke back to her husband. And so she stayed silent. Year after year. Sacrificing her needs for his. That’s what a loving wife does.

‘Don’t be upset. I gamble only during Diwali. You know that,’ Varun said. And that’s when Ayesha stiffened as though he had struck her.

‘Yes but it’s enough to set us back for an entire year. What happens to our vacation now? We were planning to take Adi to Switzerland to ski.’

‘We can still go, I suppose. We’ll figure something out, right? You always do.’

Ayesha cleared her throat and spoke, ‘It’ll be too tight.’

Varun held the two bottles of whiskey in his hand and said, ‘Why do you make a big deal out of everything? It’s just one vacation. We can go somewhere cheaper in India. Like Manali, for a few days. There’s skiing there, right? Can I not have one fun evening?’

He stormed off and left Ayesha almost in tears. She wasn’t making a big deal. She never did. But she had been looking forward to this vacation for a long time. Varun hadn’t taken her anywhere. And with her birthday coming up as well, he had said it would be a combined birthday and Christmas present since he hadn’t given her any gifts for the last few years. He hadn’t even bought her flowers. She was so used to him forgetting every year that it had been pleasantly surprising when he had mentioned he was getting a good deal to go skiing in the Swiss Alps and maybe they could go before the family headed back to Lucknow for five years.

Adi had turned ten a few months back and had told everyone in school about this vacation. Suddenly his confidence had also gone up and his social circle had expanded. Like it or not, these days the travel and power a family had mattered to children as well. Not that it bothered Ayesha because she was raising him to be a fine child. Except with everything he did right, there was never any reward until now. And even that would be taken away from him. What would his peers think of Adi?

Last year when Varun had lost fifty grand at the Diwali party he had told her, ‘I need to play these stakes, Ayesha. It’s more about the way people perceive me. You know a man’s prestige and dignity lie in how his peers look at him. If they see me as poor they won’t respect me.’

‘Being in the IAS is respectful enough,’ Ayesha had muttered under her breath. Varun heard only what he needed to and he continued to do exactly as he pleased every year.

As soon as Ayesha went out again to the kitchen she saw that her staff of maids, cooks and cleaners had heated up the dinner and were ready to serve it. She was thankful that even if they didn’t have money, they always had a battalion of people who helped in the house. That was the greatest benefit of being in the IAS.

Tarini came into the kitchen, took Ayesha aside and spoke with a soft whisper, ‘Ayesha, Sanjay is not going to take the money from Varun.’

Ayesha shook her head proudly, ‘No, a game is a game. He won fair and square.’

Tarini leaned against the large fridge as Ayesha told the kitchen staff, ‘Bring everything out please.’ She walked outside to the dining area where she had arranged a large flat platter with floating candles and small white jasmine flowers with food all around. Tarini followed her and spoke softly, ‘Listen to me, Ayesha. These guys are mad. They play this game but we don’t need to comply with all the rules.’

Ayesha suddenly felt like she didn’t need the sympathy. She was a proud, independent woman who had managed her family and her life perfectly without any support for the last ten years. Her parents lived in Allahabad and only came for a few days at a stretch to meet their grandchild. They offered to give money to Varun once but he felt slighted and they left the same day. She had never taken anything from them for the house. Her mother occasionally gave her only daughter saris and jewellery to keep her happy.

She held Tarini by her hand and said, ‘I’m sure Varun will win it back next year. Now don’t worry about it. You know what would really piss me off? If all this food doesn’t finish. I have no place in the fridge to put it!’ She laughed and Tarini smiled as well as she took a plate.

‘It all looks delicious. But Ayu, please don’t let this game affect our friendship,’ Tarini suggested hesitantly.

‘Does it ever? You buy me lunch next week okay? At Habitat? That will be your way of making it up to me,’ Ayesha said. She would never let her husband’s stupidity get in the way of her childhood friendship. It wasn’t Tarini’s fault that she was rich even though it pinched Ayesha sometimes to see her friend shop for whatever she wanted whenever she felt like and go on vacations twice a year.

Ayesha called everyone for dinner and laughed and joked with all her guests till they had finished dinner. With food ranging from Mughlai cuisine to Italian pasta, Ayesha had put out a lavish spread. She remembered once when she had just served a few items and Varun had scolded her for not managing the house correctly. She never made the same mistake again. If they had to spend their money on one party a year, it would be a fabulous one. She served everyone a choice of hot gulab jamuns, warm chocolate brownies and a crème brulee for dessert. All made at home by her. She had slaved in the kitchen for the past few days and stored everything for tonight. And after a few guests had left, she served the remaining people hot chamomile tea and freshly brewed coffee at two in the morning with coconut macaroons she had had flown down from Hyderabad.