The Runaway Bridegroom Read online

  Ranveer looked at Shikha. The woman definitely had guts. She wasn’t unattractive. She wasn’t too young or inexperienced either. Maybe he needed someone like her to keep his mind off Chanda. He had informed her that he was married. She was still ready to go out with him. She obviously knew the ropes of entering a relationship without any ties. Ranveer shrugged mentally. Why not?

  “Okay, I’ll go with you. What time do you want me to be ready?”

  Shikha closed her eyes for a few seconds in disbelief while she did her best to stop her jaw from dropping down. She couldn’t believe her luck. He had actually agreed to go out with her - her handsome boss. She wanted to jump with joy.

  Shikha opened her eyes to look at Ranveer. “That’s just awesome. We need to go to The Leela Palace. The reception is at The Grand Ballroom. It should be fine if we get there at 9 or so.” She couldn’t contain the excitement in her voice. At last, her boss was ready to meet her on a social footing.

  Ranveer nodded his head and said, “Give me your address and I’ll pick you up at about 8.15. Should that be okay?”

  “Perfect! Oh, by the way, the dress code is Indian formal.”

  “Fine, thanks, will do,” saying that, Ranveer turned back to his laptop, switching off from the personal conversation.

  Shikha was on Cloud Nine and nothing could bring her down that day.

  Ranveer was distracted from work - a first in his life. Was he running away from a college student of all women? He refused to face the issue.

  RANVEER RANG THE BELL OF Shikha’s dingy apartment at exactly 8.15 pm. She rushed to the door and opened it to give him a wide smile. He was wearing a rich cream churidhar-kurta in tussar silk and looked good enough to eat. A closer look showed Shikha the minute self-coloured embroidery on the kurta. Hmm—the man had great taste, it seemed.

  Shikha looked very attractive in the dark red sari and halter-neck blouse. Both the sari and blouse were embellished with heavy gold zardosi work. Her make-up was skilfully applied. While she had tried her best to look twenty-five, she hadn’t quite succeeded.

  “Ready to go?” asked Ranveer, a twinge of a smile on his manly lips. “I like a woman who’s punctual.”

  Shikha almost purred in delight. Having been a secretary all her life, she had the tendency to be a stickler for time. In fact, she was very happy to see Ranveer had arrived on the dot.

  She nodded her black head, the glossy curls bouncing and dancing around her shoulders. She turned around to pick up her red and gold clutch along with the gold-embroidered shawl that she had left on a chair. She didn’t bother inviting Ranveer in as her flat was quite tiny and definitely not something that would have made the centrefold of Good Homes magazine.

  Ranveer opened the passenger door of the sleek and creamy BMW for Shikha. He closed the door gently once she was seated and went around to get into the driver’s seat. He started the car wondering what he had let himself in for.

  He needn’t have worried. The evening wasn’t that bad. Shikha was quite thrilled with her escort and wanted to introduce him to every one of her acquaintances and there were a number of them. They went to meet the bride and groom for a minute and then hung around with the crowd.

  Ranveer did go to parties a couple of times in a month while one couldn’t call him a social animal. He knew how to make the right noises and could hold his drink.

  They left at 1.00 am with Shikha feeling on top of the world while Ranveer felt like an indulgent uncle who had taken his niece out for the evening. He dropped her at her door and went home to spend another sleepless night.

  Seven

  Shikha also didn’t sleep a wink that night. She looked back on the evening she had spent with the man in her life - or so she liked to believe.

  It had been just wonderful, introducing Ranveer to her friends. Shikha was sure that she had been the envy of all her women friends. Ranveer was so good-looking and possessed excellent manners. He also appeared to get along well with everyone.

  ‘Really?’ The question arose quietly from within the depths of her mind. A frown puckered her forehead as she relived the evening scene by scene. Ranveer had smiled and shook hands with each new person that he met, all of them Shikha’s contacts. He had appeared sociable and friendly, but how much had he actually spoken?

  Shikha’s scowl deepened. She realised that Ranveer had uttered barely a handful of words. She gritted her teeth in irritation. The man was definitely a moron. He had just hung around the whole evening, his glass always half-full, a smile on his face and not much to say.

  It never struck Shikha that maybe Ranveer had nothing to say to her frivolous friends as he wasn’t a party animal; he had nothing to contribute in the way of gossip and he was anything but a Page 3 personality.

  But Shikha equated him to a ‘dumb blonde’. She forgot the successful business that he had set up single-handed; the fifty-odd staff who worked for him and his quietly luxurious lifestyle. She just wanted to scream at him.

  Shikha had invited Ranveer out and he had agreed to go with her for the evening. She had been so thrilled with the prospect of meeting her rich boss socially, confident that it was the beginning of something exciting in her life. She had been thrilled when he dropped her off at home in that fabulous car of his, after spending a whole evening with her - more than four hours. Based on that, Shikha had dared to dream about their spending their whole lives together.

  More fool she! The anger built within Shikha like a slow-burning volcano. She had had many pegs of whisky-on-the-rocks. While she could hold herself steady, the drink had gone to her head along with Ranveer’s company. What a waste! He had just about been present, out of damned politeness, it looked like.

  Angry tears flowed down Shikha’s face while she wiped them away impatiently. She hadn’t come this far to give up so easily. She knew what was good for Ranveer. She most definitely did, better than him, in fact.

  Ranveer was a lonely bachelor, living in a huge metropolis. He had a successful business, a big bank balance and no one to take care of him. His wife - Shikha still wasn’t sure about the truth of it - was obviously not with him. Such a man needed a woman in his life. Shikha decided there and then that she would be that woman and no one else.

  She got up from her slouched state on the single sofa she was seated on, straightened her shoulders, and decided to go after what she wanted - come hell or high water.

  Shikha was on a warpath and it looked like Ranveer didn’t stand a chance. A slow smile lit her features. If someone had seen her then, her face ravaged by tears and her age showing so clearly, they couldn’t have been blamed for taking her to be a wicked witch plotting revenge.

  She sat up through the night and made three alternate plans to catch the slippery bachelor.

  THERE WAS A THIRD PERSON who didn’t get to sleep that night. Chanda twisted and turned in her hostel bed.

  She had done twelve Surya Namaskars to relax her tightly strung body. She had breathed in and breathed out one hundred times. Nope! Either one of those usually helped her switch off like a light bulb. Today, sleep just eluded Chanda, constantly out of her grasp.

  She most definitely knew the cause for it. But Chanda refused to let her mind wander in that direction. It was forbidden! A huge sigh ripped through her, taking her unawares. She got up to step into the minuscule balcony, closing the door behind her. She didn’t want to disturb her roommates who were fast asleep.

  The weather was oh-so-cold! Chanda pulled her sweater tighter around her slender frame and wrapped her arms around herself as she stared out into the night. A sliver of a moon was up there with bright stars strewn around the night sky. Another sigh shuddered through Chanda before she was ready to face what was ailing her.

  Ranveer!

  She recalled his face with total clarity. Chanda had been near him only during the interview but his features seemed to have etched themselves deeply in her heart. His velvety brown eyes had been alive, totally alert; while he had the look of a man who wa
s giving his hundred percent attention to the person in front of him. In fact, Chanda had found it rather difficult meeting his eyes during the interview.

  She faced her demons reluctantly. This was one trap that she had been careful to avoid all along. She had met a number of attractive teenagers and then grown-up men only to avoid them like the plague.

  She wasn’t free to pursue a loving relationship. Chanda was a married woman. No one had said anything to her - neither of her parents. Their neighbours and friends in Jaipur had no idea about Chanda’s marital status. Her classmates in Delhi definitely knew nothing about it.

  But Chanda had always been clear that she was not a free woman. She tried to recall the face of the boy that she had wedded fourteen years ago. Veera! Yeah, that was his name. But his face—Chanda had no recall how he looked. She vaguely remembered a boy who had been taller than her and quite lanky. Beyond that, nothing!

  A bitter smile rose on Chanda’s face. She was married to a guy whose face she couldn’t recollect. Obviously, Veera wasn’t interested in the child-wife he had left behind either. He had never attempted to find her. Chanda was very much aware that her marriage could be annulled pretty easily. But what about the rituals that they had undergone; the seven pheras they had taken around the sacred fire? Did that not bind them?

  This is what held Chanda back from entering a new relationship. She had never spoken about it to her parents. Neither Meera nor Mohan had placed any restrictions on their only daughter. But somehow Chanda had been clear that she should stay away from getting into a loving relationship with anyone.

  And now she had met Ranveer. What was it about him that made Chanda forget all the control that she had imposed on herself? Her heart seemed to knock so hard in her chest just thinking of him.

  Will she be able to work for him without giving away her feelings of strong attraction? Just one day in that office and not meeting him had drained her of all enthusiasm for life. And tonight she was unable to sleep thinking of the new day tomorrow when she would definitely get a chance to see him.

  Chanda could sense her feelings oscillating from hope to despair that kept her awake throughout the night. She went back inside after a while to toss and turn quietly until her alarm clock decided to wake her up.

  Eight

  Meera was in the kitchen instructing the cook that evening when Mohan walked into their home. Home was a six-bedroom duplex bungalow sprawled over two acres of garden. It had taken the family a couple of years to feel comfortable living in Jaipur. They were used to their village with wide open spaces and huge farmlands.

  Mohan ran a provision shop at Tripolia Bazaar and his business was doing excellently well. While he had eight men working for him, none of his sons had shown interest in joining their father in his business. Not that Mohan was disturbed by this. He was freedom-loving himself and believed in the philosophy of live-and-let-live. His four sons pursued careers that they loved and each one was successful in his own right.

  Meera walked out of the kitchen on hearing her husband’s footsteps. Even after forty years of marriage, Meera continued to be in love with her husband. She gave him a wide smile that he returned with equal gusto. She walked behind Mohan as he went up the stairs to their bedroom to change.

  “Baat karthe hi rahogi ya kuch chai ka bhi inthazaam hoga?” teased Mohan as he removed the buttons on his shirt.

  Meera blushed on hearing the teasing note in her husband’s voice and shook her head before leaving the room to walk down to the kitchen yet again. It never struck her to call out to the cook or his assistant to get tea for her husband. In fact, Meera was very particular about taking care of her husband’s needs herself.

  Mohan came down after a wash and sat down on the sofa in the living room while Meera served his tea along with some fresh chaklis and son-papdi.

  “Now, continue with your stories,” teased Mohan yet again, sipping his tea.

  Meera continued from where she had left off.

  “Chanda is twenty-two. She needs a husband.” Meera twisted her hands together in anguish. “We can’t even plan our sons’ weddings having a married daughter living in the house. I know that Veera has disappeared. But that doesn’t mean that Chanda should live alone all her life. Can’t we—”

  Mohan looked at his small, plump wife. Meera was the typical Indian housewife who worked diligently for the home, taking care of her husband and children with great devotion. She had never complained about anything in her life and believed that the sun rose and set with the man she had married as a child herself. She had a smiling countenance and still looked very young.

  Meera had been ten and Mohan fifteen when they got married. She had been thirteen when she moved into her husband’s home. Her whole life revolved around her husband and five children.

  “She has only a few months left at college,” continued Meera. “Shouldn’t we—?”

  “I have also been thinking about it Meera. You remember Lakhan; he owns the shop next to ours?” Mohan didn’t wait for Meera’s reply before continuing, “He recommends astrologer Vidyasagar highly. I have been trying to set up an appointment with the man. He’s very busy with a long queue, it seems. We can meet him sometime this month and show Chanda’s horoscope. Let’s see what he has to recommend.” A long sigh shook up Mohan’s frame as he said this. While he never let on how much he was affected by the state of affairs, Meera was quite aware that her husband was extremely disturbed.

  Meera walked up to Mohan and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “I am sure everything will work out for the best. You please don’t worry,” she said, a soft smile on her face. Mohan drew strength from her touch and words and felt at peace.

  THE TWO OF THEM WENT TO MEET Astrologer Vidyasagar on the next Thursday. The astrologer charged one thousand rupees for a consultation. But Lakhan had insisted that it was totally worth it.

  Meera and Mohan walked into the flamboyant hall that had bright drapes hanging all around. The Astrologer was sitting on a divan with many cushions surrounding him. Two comfortable low single sofas where placed in front of him with a large coffee table in-between.

  Vidyasagar gestured to his clients to seat themselves. They were offered water before Mohan took out his daughter’s horoscope and handed it over to the astrologer with great reverence. Vidyasagar didn’t encourage talk as he took out a magnifying glass to study the document. He instructed an assistant to get him the almanac pertaining to Chanda’s year of birth. He also took out a plain sheet of paper and made some calculations. Silence ruled for the next fifteen minutes while Meera and Mohan waited anxiously for the astrologer to say something.

  The astrologer completed his calculations and looked up at his clients. “I thought you had brought this horoscope regarding your daughter’s marriage. But it's obvious that she is already married. Was there something else you wanted to ask?”

  Meera and Mohan were quite impressed on hearing this. But a small frown puckered Mohan’s forehead. If the man could read that, couldn’t he also see that Chanda was not living with her husband?

  Mohan cleared his throat before saying softly, “Vidyasagarji! I am sure you are able to see that my daughter’s not with her husband—”

  Vidyasagar gave the horoscope a cursory glance before saying, “But of course she is with her husband.”

  Both Meera and Mohan were shocked to hear that. They couldn’t believe their ears. They had done a lot of enquiry and had heard nothing but praise for Vidyasagar’s astrological skills. But this sounded ridiculous. How could he be so off the mark?

  Nine

  “Vidyasagarji, my daughter is definitely not living with her husband. She is living with us here, at Jaipur,” said Mohan, not able to quite hide his impatience.

  “You mean your daughter Chanda is here in Jaipur, right now?” challenged Vidyasagar.

  “Well, just now she is in Delhi, studying. She lives at her college hostel that has a separate facility only for women,” came the reply from Mohan, tinged wit
h sarcasm.

  The astrologer studied the horoscope minutely for another five minutes, rubbing his jaw, in deep thought.

  He then looked up at Mohan and Meera and said, “I have never given a wrong prediction in my 45-year-old career. And believe me, I am not saying this just because I don’t want to admit defeat. Your daughter is definitely with her husband. Since you are very clear that she is not with him, there is a strong possibility that they both are in the same building, day after day. That is the only thing I can read from the horoscope. Do you, by any chance, have your son-in-law’s horoscope? I will not charge you extra for studying the same. But, I am very keen to see where he is placed.”

  Mohan always kept all the family members’ horoscopes together in one folder. Veera’s horoscope was also right there. He removed it with trembling hands to hand it over to the astrologer. He was absolutely shaken by what he had heard. And his temper had drained away at the humble words of the older man.

  Vidyasagar had another almanac brought out - this one pertaining to the year of Veera’s birth. He studied it for a while and told, “This horoscope has been wrongly written. Have you had it checked by any expert?”

  Mohan looked askance at Meera before shaking his head at the astrologer. “This horoscope had been given us by Veerendra’s grandfather. In fact, his family elders told us that they had studied the match between Veerendra and Chanda. As there were no other elders in our family, we agreed to go by their words. We have never showed this horoscope to anyone.”

  The wise astrologer was nodding his head vigorously as he heard Mohan. He seemed unsurprised by Mohan’s words, as if he had been expecting him to say exactly that.

  “I would like you to come next week and meet me again. I will get Veerendra’s horoscope re-written. Presuming that the date, time and place of birth are correctly mentioned, I will have a very different horoscope for this boy. And—”