A husband's regret

Episode 25

Jaipur

​​​​​​​India

The obnoxious prattling and incessant bass music bleeded his ears before Bhavani chugged down another shot of tequila. Dried trail of angry tears visible on sullen cheeks, his melancholic vacant stare had been aimed at grey bar counter. Except for him in a last minute black attire, everyone else had worn contemporary fancy clothes.

It reflected their brattish outlook, of snobby stuck up elites.

His shoulders were hunched as he lost all hopes. Heartbreak and an stabbing ache howled in his lungs.

A hand extended and emphasized the order yelled at the timid bartender. "No more for him!"

His eyes rolled, migraine burning behind his droopy eyes. World almost swayed while he sulked on barstool.

"Woah, you there?" Kabir tapped on his shoulder.

Bhavani was a wreaked mess of tears and dark circles. "Give me a favour man, let me slip in your car. I need a drink. Those bastards aren't letting me out."

Kabir pursed his lips, taking in teary form leaning against the column of first floor. The sun had set already, twilight shadows dancing on brooding man.

"And if I refuse?"

"I will jump from fourth floor and blame you in my suicide letter."

"I wanna die," He groaned aloud and hid his face in crossed arms.

Kabir patiently sipped on his mug of vodka. He side eyed him and tsked. "Wanna share why you're signing up for Devdas's audition?"

He huffed and straightened. "I want it to end." He pointed at his chest. "Love."

"Ah." Realisation dawned in sympathetic eyes. "Why am I surprised though? It must be our men's period drama or whatever." Disappointed, he was disdainful at nothing in particular.

He arched a brow at him, curious. "Someone broke your heart too?"

Kabir sighed dramatically, chest heaving down as he firmly nodded at him. "Thrice." He looked away to casually glance at drunken dancers across them. Blue and violet strobes buzzing madly in excitement. "To say men fall harder would be an understatement."

Kabir might be wrong. Bhavani frowned and almost tilted his head comically. Women were less barbarians than men were. They worshipped men like royalty. Consider Rudra for instance. He led him on only to hate him in the end. Besides, he hadn't convinced him yet. Did he even call him once? The answer was no. If he was so desperate to clear the supposed misunderstandings, couldn't he reassure him?

It was obvious. Rudra hated him. Everything was fake between them. Everything those enigmatic eyes conveyed was lie. He was never special for him.

Bhavani was discarded like a weary sponge would be, like...a ragged doll.

Kabir stood up. "I'll be back in a minute. Don't wander off anywhere if you want me alive. Kunwar-sa would kill me if he finds this out. Get it?"

He shrugged and leaned back against the counter, chill slab digging in his back, stench of concentrated perfume and alcohol in hot air. He had nowhere to go. Home was a distant dream alike his mother was.

His fellow comrade disappeared in horny crowd. It was obvious by shameless hip movements. He had been to enough pubs and bars by now to know how reckless it was in such places.