Few days later...
The nasty habit of Sheraad: to leave the house mostly every night and not providing an explanation the next day as he comes home drunk and drugged continued. I no more bother to ask or eavesdrop about what happened when his father questions him about it. If his phone rings, I let it ring till Sheraad comes to get it himself. Besides, these days he has been on the phone more than he has been to office. Recently, Sheraad had left his home-made Tiffin at home. When mother in law ordered me to bring it to him in his office, surprisingly I discovered that he had not come to the office since morning. I ignored it and did not even care to inform the in laws about it. Because, one thing for a fact is certain that his parents are conscious about each moves of Sheraad- just that they do not tell him anything or they simply camouflage his errs like the mother in law had told me: "We should only cover and recover the men's mistakes. The family's reputation lies in the hands of the females and not the males." Some nights I sleep alone. While other nights, I am given the job of entertaining his nights and warm his bed.
Disconcerted, I turn around as someone pats away my thoughts with his tap on my shoulder. "Ma'am do you want a drink?" the waiter asked. "Huh? Oh no.. no.. Thank you." I stammered.
Sometimes I am amazed at my own thinking powers. They always indecently take me for a ride in the most inappropriate setting. If those voices are left unchained, they will create chaos in this life. Today, indecently again they have taken me somewhere else while physically I am at a business party: one of the most prominent events of Sheraad's life. I must be the worst wife ever because I cannot even stay here for a second to celebrate my husband's grand event. But what can one do when her husband is not even with her and she is left alone sitting in a corner?
The party has been flawlessly arranged. The lights have specially been exhibited: sometimes red, sometimes yellow or sometimes white. The tables have been vigilantly topped with red ribbons on each side of the table cloth. The shinning white plates with aluminum forks and spoons lie just next to them while being scrutinized by the dancing lights. On small-sized tables, colored decorative candles struggle to stay alive amidst the intricate designs. From the right backside of the locale, one cannot overlook the nice odor of the Indian food being served to the other guests who decided that dinner should be the first thing on list, even before waltzing. The floor is occupied by diverse grand personalities, all smartly dressed as per the dress code. Who would have dared transgress the dress rules on such a grand event anyway? The men are fully suited up in lavish black and white tailored suits with red tie as topping. The women are graciously clothed in long red evening dress with hanging matching earrings for the highlight. Apparently, red will be the new logo of the company and thus the dress code was set as such. I have not been given proper information about this party. I was only told that this is one of Sheraad's most important events and that I should be there for him: well I guess mum in law meant like a flower pot placed to the back corner of the setting, unnoticed and uncared for.
I scan through the crowd looking for the man, Sheraad. Rummaging through the crowd, my eyes detect him. Waltzing among people with a woman glued to his body, eyes lost in each other, he becomes fluorescent in the audience. He violently turns the woman to him with her back enclosed to his chest. I notice the woman. From a distance, her pencil-thin eyebrows mollifies down to her charcoal dark eyelashes. Her long Elie Sahaab's evening red dress sways all throughout the dance floor. Spools of her dark-kohl hair plunge around her fair-skinned face and hide a swan's neck: graceful and smooth. She is definitely one of the most beautiful women you will ever come across. He puts his hands around her waist and whispers something in her ears. His lips said: "I adore you." And the woman swiftly but graciously turns to him and sensually slides her Venus-red finger nails through his cheeks and smiles her drowsy smile. Sheraad's nostrils convulse; his lips twined back in a repulsive grin while he whispers: "Tomorrow" and with her flashing eyelids, she says: "yes." Her smooth right leg sneaks out of her split dress as Sheraad lifts it and attaches it to his thigh. He slides his hand through her split dress while she gives a dirty grin. "Look. He has his hands through her dress," a voice says to me. "It's a sensual music playing. And everyone has exchanged dancing partners at this party. Must be normal. Don't bother me," I say to the voice in my head. "She is his mistress," it whispers again. Abnormally incensed at those words, interlocking my fingers severely, I ask it to shut up and leave me alone. I cannot fathom one thing. Why am I so bothered about him? Why did I vex at the idea of him having a mistress? He is the beast and beasts are not expected to keep their promise of loyalty. Infidelity should have been part of those black deeds expected and inscribed on the list. So why is it an issue? I always somehow knew that he was involved in those things right? So, I just have to be normal. Be normal Rose. Be normal. Breathe.
I look around, trying to be distracted by something else. Irritated about not finding something to do by just sitting there, I walk to the table serving food which is as well the table next to the bar. Baffled, agitated, bored, vexed.- I turn around again and switch to the bar. Flashbacks swim into my memory showing how when I was nineteen, I used to gulp down large glasses of whisky and tequila. The bar was as familiar to me as home. No one would ever ask the name of the girl dancing on the table, fully drunk. No one would ever ask the name of the girl shouting in the bare amidst the loud party music. Because none of those souls were ignorant to the fact that these were things that only Rose Mathilda would ever do. Tempted at first but then hushing away the thought, I instead ask the bar man for a glass of juice. "With ice please," I added. The man gives me a nod and starts preparing the juice. I wait in the meantime, barely observing the bottles in front of me. "Four shots of Rum!" ordered a man standing next to me. In fact they are three but only one of them orders for the shots. With my back on to them, I wait impatiently for my juice. I wait and wait. In fact I become more irritated. The wait simply adds salt to my wounds. "Pfffft!" I sigh. Coming to the side with an intention incinerated in the mind of having a chat with me is one of the men who were just next to me.
"Hey beautiful lady, may I buy you a drink?" he asks. I try to cast my eyes down because I have been taught married women are not supposed to meet gazes with other men except her husband: Now to talk to another man is far from being imaginable. With my eyes casted downwards, I try not to look impolite and say: "No thank you." "Are you sure?" he questions again. "Yes I am." I repeat still staring to the side. "If I'm not wrong, you're the wife of Sheraad Chauhaan, the owner of the rising industry H-0-1 right? " Alarmed, I commit the mistake of looking at him. "Hmm... yes... but how do you know?" came my reply. "Well hello. I'm an investor of the company. Sheraad is a great man." he says. "Hmm.. yes..." "Well, where is Sheraad?" Searching on the dance floor as though he knows Sheraad is there, he exclaims: "Oh there he is, dancing!" He looks at me for a while and gives a creepy smile. "Mrs. Rose will you grace me with the pleasure of dancing with you?" he asks. Even more baffled, I struggle with two options in the mind: -"No Rose, you cannot do that. Remember mother in law told you, married women cannot meet the gaze of a stranger?"
-"But Sheraad has also asked you not to get him embarrassed in the party and ordered you to dance or to have a chat with someone who seems to be acquainted to him because otherwise it's seen as impolite." Battling on the inside for a while, I finally choose to say yes for the dance since this was the last instruction given to me before coming to this party. This man looks around the same age as Sheraad, in his thirties. Not conspicuously tall, not conspicuously handsome, he gets himself called by the name of Vikrant. Waltzing with his hands on my waist, I try not to catch his gaze as his eyes goes to stare deep in mine. I look away. His face is like the moon, washed out and resolute. I can get the quintessence of his countenance but none of it stays on my mind as I try not to stare at him for too long. His unmoved eyes from mine make me uneasy. His long charcoal black hair shifts from time to time as if in a benumbed wind. A vigorous madness lurks on his face like a rabid-savagery each time he lets out a miscellaneous smile. At this point in time, I had no idea what was going on his mind.
My eyes are stuck on Sheraad and that woman. I observe Sheraad's hands on her back, playing with her through her backless dress, still waltzing. Letting a kiss on her cheeks, she grins and pulls him closer to her. With my hands on Vikrant's shoulder, I clasp onto his collar as I notice how Sheraad has not even spotted that his wife is dancing with another man. I immediately realize that this small act can send wrong signal to this stranger. I relax my hands and rest them normally on his shoulders again. Seizing the opportunity, Vikrant suddenly pulls me to him violently. The music strangely goes even louder at that instance. Conscious, I try to loosen myself from him. But he draws me even closer. I look at him fretfully. I notice how his hand moves from my waist to travel to the other parts of my body. Getting even more conscious, I wrestle to unshackle myself from the stranger who wisely approached me through the name of Sheraad but instantly provides evidences of being a hot headed pervert. I shout to him for help while this creep draws me near. But he does not hear and continues waltzing with his mistress as his wife is being harassed. Nearly crying, I scream on the inside: "I hate you Sheraad! I hate you!" Milliseconds later, Vikrant crosses his limits by landing his hands on my bum. Nothing else comes to my mind at the moment. Only an uncalculated reaction comes up, I slap him hard in the face and push him away as he hits against a table and hurts himself. Disturbed by the chaos, the music stops and everyone turns around to look at me.
Drowning in tears, I feel I have lost my voice and ability to explain. I go on just crying and crying. Some men, probably Vikrant's acquaintances go to help him stand up. His nostrils flutter in the air as this act gets him on his nerves. I spot Sheraad looking at me with a look that said I will pay a heavy price for what I have just done. Looking at him in tears, I secretly beg him to listen to me for once before he makes a move. But he again gives me the same reaction. Completely enraged, Vikrant questions to Sheraad: "What is this Sheraad? Have you not taught your wife any manners?" "I'm really sorry about this Mr. Vikrant..." Vikrant does not let Sheraad finish his sentence.
"Is this how your wife greets one of your biggest investors?" "I'm really sorry Mr. Vikrant. I apologize to you on her behalf." Sheraad says. "No! I don't need your apologies! Your company will pay a heavy price for this. I'm sorry Mr. Sheraad. But I won't be investing in your company any longer, " says Vikrant as he hold the swollen part of his forehead. "Oh no! Please don't do that! I'll make her apologize to you right away," says sheraad as he walks up to me. "Rose! Apologize to him immediately!" he orders. Not believing my ears, I burst into more tears. "I said apologize to him Rose!" Unrestrained feelings snap and I run out of the party crying and crying without saying a word, not a single word. Only my cries are heard and tears are seen.
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Hi guys,
Hope you are liking the story so far. If yes, do leave a comment and vote for it. The more response i get, the more i am encouraged to update this as quick as possible. So stay tuned cause i will do so soon (maybe tomorrow itself)
Much love xx