The Love-addict - Chapter 5

After her vomiting session was over, in the bathroom, Samaira emerged, looking somewhat pale. Rohan saw that she appeared very wan and young just like a school girl. A lost school girl! His heart went out to her and he felt like comforting her. He understood how lonely and miserable she might have been feeling, in that huge, heartless city, where wolves in the form of men, abounded. No wonder, she lived amidst tight security! But that too must have been suffocating for her.

       Then he saw the time on the ornate clock on the wall in front of him and started. It was 11 p.m. He had to return to his friend’s place. Next morning, he had to board the train for his return journey.

       He rose and said, “O.K. then Samaira, take care and let me know if you need any help. We are there for you, even if your parents aren’t! I’ll send you a missed call so that you can save my number. Call me anytime for help. Now I must leave. My friend will be waiting for me.”

       Samaira pouted and protested, “But you haven’t had dinner, as yet! I can’t leave you now. You may go afterwards. Please call up your friend and inform him likewise.”

       Rohan was inwardly happy that he could spend some more time with that beauty. He tried to resist, hemmed and hawed, but finally gave in. They had a superb meal of biryani and egg curry, followed by dudhi halwa; which had already been prepared by the dependable maid, Nirmala, in the evening.

        She usually prepared good food for her mistress who would ignore it and eat ghaas-phus (In the maid’s words) like salads and soups. She continued with her culinary expertise, in the hope that someday, her mistress would be tempted and would eat well. But that day hadn’t yet dawned, today had been an exception!

        Meanwhile, the beggars around the maid’s house and her family members were a contented lot, as they got rich, home-cooked food, regularly, thanks to the maid. Needless to say, the maid also heartily partook of the meals, on Samaira’s insistence. Hence she was well-fed and rotund. Due to Samaira’s largesse, she took good care of her mistress and was very protective about her.

       During the meal, Samaira had watched Rohan closely. His well-pressed, checked shirt and grey trouser fitted him nicely. His hair was thick and colored in places with red, no doubt due to henna. He appeared healthy and fit. His face was brown and lean. His dark brown eyes sparkled as he looked at her occasionally and his nose was straight and chin jutted out proudly. He was above-average in height. He appeared to be very self-assured and hence was probably a man who knew what he wanted in life and how to get it!

     He was gentle and kind. He gave the impression of being a thorough gentleman, though she had instinctively felt that there was more to him that met her eye. His eyes had given him away, as he had appraised her, first when he set his eyes on her, that evening.

      She felt that she could wrap him around her little finger, if she so desired! She decided to test him. After the meal when he started taking her leave, she held his arm and implored sweetly, “Please jiju, why don’t you stay over-night here? At least one day, I can have someone of my family to talk to!”

       He was hesitant. “No Samaira, I can’t spend the night in a spinster’s house. What will people think? Even my friend and his family won’t approve. No, no, I must leave.” Just as he reached the door, Samaira speed-dialled her sister. “Didi, Jiju isn’t staying here with me. Kindly tell him to give me company tonight.”

      In the stillness of the night, he could clearly hear his wife’s response. “Give him the phone, I will tell him.” Amisha appeared happy because Samaira was happy. She told him “Kyon ji, you’ve gone to see her. Why don’t you stay in her house overnight?” He told her, “Amisha, log kya kahenge? “(What will people say?) “I don’t care what they say! Anyway, in a big city like Mumbai no one cares about what the others are doing. You can freely stay there. And aren’t you her relative? Why do you unnecessarily worry? I am your wife, since I don’t mind; it’s none of anyone’s business!”

       Secretly relieved and delirious with joy, he carefully said, “Oh, so if that’s what you wish, your wish is my command. I will do as you say. Now are you happy?”

      Amisha’s sweet laughter rang down the line. “Yes, of course. Thanks. Good night.”

   “There you are,“ said Saira happily, as she took the phone from his hands. Now call up your friend and inform him about your changed plans. Tell him that you will go there tomorrow morning and pick up your luggage and go to the station.” Rohan did the needful. He felt it in his bones that that night would change his life forever.

    Samaira gave a mock yawn and said that she was going to her bedroom. The maid had left some time back. Rohan awkwardly suggested, “I’ll sleep on this couch.” She laughed heartily and said, “Jiju, there are five bedrooms in this house. What are they for? Come upstairs. I’ll show you your room.”

    His heart was thudding. A huge, isolated house and a gorgeous single lady were a lethal combination. He feared for himself and he feared for her! He watched her hips swaying sensuously as she proceeded upstairs with him in tow. Then he firmly looked only at each step, as he climbed. God, give me strength, he prayed. To resist this divine temptation! He didn’t want to sin!

To be continued....

The copyright of this story is with Mrs. Priya Ramesh Swaminathan.

The Love-addict - Chapter 4

     One day, Amisha’s husband Rohan, went to Mumbai for some work related to his hardware business. Amisha had told him to check on her dear sister, Samaira. She wanted to be sure that she was eating and living well. So after finishing his work for the day, he went to Samaira’s house, late in the evening. He hadn’t called her up as he wanted to pay a surprise visit. Amisha had told him to do so, so that the real picture would be clear to them.

     When the maid-servant opened the door, he was awe-struck by the opulence of Samaira’s bungalow. The high ceiling with dazzling chandeliers, rich and plush carpets, paintings on the walls and elegant, expensive furniture; took his breath away. He sighed, as he compared it to his humble two-room, spartan abode. Some people surely had all the luck, he mused. He told the servant that he wanted to meet Samaira, his sister-in-law. She asked him to be seated and called up her mistress through the intercom. “Bibiji, your brother-in-law, Rohan sahib has arrived and is waiting for you here.”

     Samaira was non-plussed. What was he doing there? Maybe her beloved sister had wanted to give her a surprise. Hadn’t she come too? As she started getting up from her bed, she felt dizzy and sat down again. She had had a couple of pegs of wine in the evening. Even as she dressed in a salwar-kameez, brushed her hair, applied a coat of powder and walked downstairs, she could feel the floor tilting below her. She unsteadily descended the stairs from her first-floor bed-room and swayed into the living-room.

     Rohan gasped on seeing her. What a ravishing beauty! He had seen her movies and pictures in magazines, but seeing her in flesh and blood was an experience that he wouldn’t forget in a hurry! She was a unique woman, hand-crafted by the Creator himself, chiseled to perfection. He just couldn’t spot any flaw in her. Guiltily, he compared her with his wife and her sister, Amisha. How come she was so ordinary-looking and insipid? God had definitely been partial towards the younger sister! How he wished that he had had the good fortune to marry Samaira instead!

     But he had come here to check on her well-being, hadn’t he? he chided himself, not to lust after her! “How are you Saira? I am Rohan, your Amisha Didi's hubby. Amisha was worried about your well-being, hence asked me to meet you. I hope that I haven’t inconvenienced you in any way.”

      “Of course not, jiju. You are most welcome,” she said. As she started sitting on a couch, she tripped on the carpet and landed straight into his arms. He held her briefly, as he supported her and steadied her. She smelt of some heavenly perfume, though the stench of liquor assailed his nostrils, as she opened her mouth to thank him. She had been drinking, he thought, disgustedly. Yet, he couldn’t help noticing her pretty pink lips, soft and inviting. As he unconsciously swept his tongue over his lips, she smiled slightly.

       So her charm was casting her spell over him too, she thought vainly. His eyes were lowered, as though he didn’t want her to guess his amorous thoughts, but she was sure about what was on his mind. They were all the same, selfish and lecherous, she thought despairingly.

     As the maid bought in tea and snacks, she offered him a cup and asked him about her sister. “How’s Didi? How’s your business getting along? Why didn’t Didi come her too?”

       “Amisha is as usual, busy with her house-work and tailoring. My business is flourishing. In fact, I came here today for some work. Amisha has many orders to deliver, before Holi, next week. Hence she couldn’t come. She has promised that she will come and meet you next month. By the way, why don’t you come over, one of these days? You must take a break, every now and then!”

      “Yes, I’ll try and do that,” she said half-heartedly. She just didn’t want to go back to her village. She had outgrown it and its people. Then she remembered her parents. Hesitantly, she asked in a small voice, “How are Pitaji and Maa? Do they ever remember me?” Sensing the emotion in her tone, Rohan said, “Frankly no! It seems as though they are consciously avoiding talking about you. Both seem moody and depressed. You will understand their trauma if you realize that they have had to bear the taunts about you, in the village. They are nearly ostracized. Only one or two people sympathize with them and help them.”

      Samaira had tears in her eyes as she said, “I am the black sheep of my family!” Rohan looked at her with such pity that Samaira felt a wave of longing engulfing her. She only wanted to belong to someone, anyone! Right now, Rohan would do!

    “Have your tea, Samaira, you’ll feel better,“ he said. But after the very first sip, she felt nauseous. As she began retching, the maid rushed to her with a wide porcelain bowl. Rohan was amused and aghast. This seemed to be a regular feature in that house. The mistress throwing up in the bowl after a drink too many! What would be Amisha’s reaction on hearing about this sorry state of affairs? She’d be heart-broken!

To be continued....

The copyright of this story is with Mrs. Priya Ramesh Swaminathan.

The love-addict - Chapter 3

               Samaira was from a small village in Uttar-Pradesh. She had run away from her parents’ home at the tender age of 16, to make a name in movies. Her parents had long ago, disowned her. Though her mother still longed to see her, she couldn’t go against her strict husband’s wishes, hence refrained from taking Samaira’s telephonic calls. Her sister Amisha spoke to her, on the sly, sometimes.

             After struggling for 7 long years, enduring the ignominy of the casting couch and lecherous touts, Samaira had got her first break. Her first movie, Tara, had broken all box-office records. Then she had never looked back. Now she had completed 5 years in the industry and commanded awe and envy, wherever she went. Though she had all the material comforts that stardom could provide, she was lonely and depressed. Her empty bungalow mocked her when she reached home. It seemed to say scornfully, “So, was this what you wanted? An empty house and an empty life, bereft of warmth and love? Money can’t give you love, dearie!”

          She had attempted vying for several co-stars’ attention, unsuccessfully, through these forlorn years. Each movie gave her hope and rejection! The movie succeeded, but she didn’t. None of her co-stars desired her, surprisingly, as she had a face and figure to die for!

          She still remembered the burning humiliation that she had faced, when after a love-scene in her third movie, she had clung wantonly to her co-star, even after the shot was cut. The hero had to extricate himself out of her warm and tight clasp, with great difficulty. The derisive, loud and raucous laughter of those on the set, then, still rang annoyingly fresh, in her ears. Those were the times that she cringed with shame. No one had been sensitive enough to deduce her isolation and need for companionship.

           Though she genuinely fell in love with her co-stars, they thought that she was a girl with loose morals. When they tried to seduce her, she told them off, in no uncertain terms, thereby again giving them the impression that she was just a tease and an attention-grabber. They just couldn’t fathom her actions.

          Meanwhile, she became moody and irascible. A tantrum-queen, if ever there was one! All her movies’ directors tried to pander to her ego all the while, just to keep her in a good mood and ensure smooth filming. The heroes avoided her like the plague, once their shots were over.

        In the lonely nights, she would invariably call up her, by now married elder sister and pour out her woes, into her willing ears. She was sympathetic but firm in her opinion that it was high time that Samaira got married and settled down. “You must return and get married, dear. I’m sure that by now, you must be disillusioned after seeing the fickle ways of those in the film-industry. I will try to convince Pitaji to forgive you…” she would say.

        “It’s too late, Didi, I can never return. I’m addicted to my work and to my life-style. Good-bye.” The finality and dejection in Samaira’s voice would send shivers down her sister’s spine. She only hoped and prayed that Samaira wouldn’t take any rash decision to end her miserable life. Hence she always spoke to her sympathetically and empathized with her situation. She knew that she was the only lifeline for her young, misguided sister.

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To be continued....

The copyright of this story is with Mrs. Priya Ramesh Swaminathan.

The Love-addict - Chapter 2

                    Absent-mindedly, (or was it deliberately?), she had pressed the button for the sixth floor. When she emerged out of the elevator, she had an irresistible urge to knock on Mahesh’s door, but listening to her warning instincts, she let it pass and reluctantly returned to her room.

                     As she felt slightly cold, she ordered for a pot of tea and changed into a slinky, lilac gown and lounged on the couch, watching some nonsensical (in her words) soap series. The door-bell buzzed and she opened the door. She nearly swooned as she saw Mahesh, smartly dressed in a tan jacket, black jeans and polo-necked black T-shirt, looking at her appreciatively. Self-consciously, she brushed back her hair and asked, “Well, well, what brings you here Mahesh, has your date been just cancelled?”

                   His eyes flashed as he angrily retorted, “So you have been sneaking on my calls again, haven’t you? You….” She bit her lip even as hot color flushed her cheeks. She had been caught! Still she brazenly offered her explanation, “Chill dear, you weren’t exactly discreet! Everyone at the pool heard about your rendezvous! So I can be hardly blamed. Anyway, may I know why you have deigned to pay a lowly mortal like me a visit?”

                  Just as he was about to retort sharply, a bell-boy cleared his throat tactfully and announced that he had bought her tea. He gleefully observed the tense under-currents between the two and walked away, whistling under his breath.

                 “Hmm, if you don’t want to speak, you can have a cup of piping hot tea with me, unless you’d prefer something else!” she murmured tantalizingly. I would definitely prefer the other option, but right now, I’m in a tearing hurry. Please could you inform the Director, Samarth Babu that I won’t be available for the evening shift today? I have tried his number several times, but it has been switched off, hence thought that you could pass on my message to him if you wouldn’t mind the trouble.”

                 “Any thing for you sweetie!” she purred, as he beat a hasty retreat. Samaira sipped on the ginger-flavored tea as she mulled over Mahesh’s behavior and her own wanton behavior. Surely, she could be more dignified! What would he think of her? She loved him so much that she could lay down her life for him, but she realized that her behavior must have put him off. He’d now think that she just lusted after him!

                   He hadn’t ever praised her looks. Even just then, he had looked at her appreciatively, but dismissively. As if she was a beautiful piece of furniture! Wasn’t she worth talking to? She fumed inwardly. True to her petty nature, she conveniently ‘forgot’ to inform the Director about Mahesh’s absence.

                  The shoot was cancelled for the day, after lots of commotion on the sets. That scene belonged to Mahesh. In his sudden absence, the shooting had to be abandoned. Everyone blamed him for his unprofessional behavior and said that he was becoming too big for his boots. She wallowed in the distasteful mud-slinging as it gave her a high. Served that snob right! Ignoring a beauty for a plain Jane did have its side-effects!

                   But the next day, Samaira had to swallow her own bitter medicine. Everyone on the sets ignored her. Mahesh was preening like a Cheshire cat and the Director was fawning over him, as usual. It was as if the previous day’s brouhaha had just vanished from everyone’s minds. Except hers! She seethed as Mahesh jauntily told her, “Good weather, isn’t it? Are you unwell?” She knew that he was taunting her. She just smiled half-heartedly and said, “I am always fine, thank you!” He smiled knowingly and sent daggers into her heart.

                  She had again succeeded in rubbing him up the wrong way! She always offended those who she loved, hence they despised her. She was in a conundrum. How could she rectify her obnoxious behavior? she wondered. Till she did that, she’d have to wallow in misery and self-pity.

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To be continued.....

The copyright of this story is with Mrs. Priya Ramesh Swaminathan.