Yohan's grandmother did not wait for his arrival. By the time he reached, she had breathed her last. Yohan was stunned by this sudden turn of events. He had not, in his wildest dreams, expected his grandmother to abandon him all of a sudden. Next few days passed in a blur for him. There were relatives, friends, well-wishers and fans pouring in to pay their last tributes to her. He felt as if he was watching everything from an outer sphere of his life. He wished for the good old days when he and his grandmother used to huddle together in a corner and watch the family celebrate festivals with disinterest. They would whisper, giggle, gossip and make fun of family members. His grandmother had been his best friend and no one had understood him like her. Irrespective of the fact that he was uncommunicative, she had taken every opportunity to demonstrate her love for him. And he had assumed that she would be a constant life companion. How colossally wrong he had been!
While his cousins, uncles and aunts earned sympathies by displaying their grief openly, he stood aloof in a corner with an impassive face, observing the events with a detachment that he could not understand. Some of the guests smiled at him with curious disbelief and some others disregarded him with callous indifference. Standing near the doorway, he could almost read their minds; ridiculing him silently for his unsuccessful efforts to earn a place among the galaxy of stars. Their scornful glances revealed their contempt for his attitude. They seemed to imply that it was his lineage that gave him an edge over the others, and which he took for granted without much care.
Yohan wondered if his parents' death had destroyed the emotional build-up of his personality. He did not remember his parents and had never felt their loss. By the time he understood the bond that a child shared with a parent, he had learnt to conceal his yearning, his curiosity and his loneliness. His teachers had complained to his uncles and grandparents about his lack of display of feelings or emotions. He was also referred to a psychologist once, who had diagnosed that Yohan suffered from borderline personality disorder. His grandmother was the only one who had perceived his inner turmoil and figured a way to explain to others.
And now she was no more to defend him. The truth hit him with a brute force that shook him to his core. Forlorn and desolate, he rushed to his room and surrendered to his grief and heart-ache.
The day swept by in a haze and the night descended on him with its misery and coldness. His friends and Nina visited but they were unable to draw him out of his room. Staring at the ceiling aimlessly, he stretched out on his bed without any will or wish. He could neither sleep nor get up from the bed. His eldest uncle called out his name.
"Yohan, are you there? Come out of the room. You have been inside like this for more than twenty-four hours. We are worried Yohan."
Yohan stirred out of his somniferous state and opened the door. His uncle looked at him with concern, "Yohan, are you alright?"
*************
Rumi read the script many times but she could not bring herself to agree to the part in the story. It was a comedy and she had a major role, not the lead role but good enough for her. So why did she not sign for the part? Only because, she was required to travel to Kolkata for shooting.
She tossed the bunch of sheets aside and rested her head on the table. Did she have the courage to endure the dark memories of the city that had stripped her of everything?
The door bell roused her out of her meandering thoughts and to her surprise, she found a beaming Ujjwal who took her in his arms with ardent enthusiasm.
"Hey babe, how are you?"
"You never told me you were arriving today," she pulled him inside the flat, before he started displaying his affections in front of her neighbours.
"Ah Rumi, I wanted to surprise you," he cupped her face and drew her into a passionate kiss. His arms snaked around her and held her tightly as he evoked sensual pleasure in her.
"God I missed you..." he whispered not willing to let go of her.
"I missed you too Ujjwal. How was your trip?" she asked him, tugging out of his embrace.
Stocky with medium height, Ujjwal was smart and good-looking. Rumi was attracted to him because he was dependable and trust worthy. In her dismal and lonely life, he was the anchor she clutched without any constraints.
"Great but like always, Ziva was demanding and difficult to please."
"Nothing new about it..." Rumi muttered, making two cups of tea. Ziva was a woman who never compromised on anything. Maybe that was the secret to her success.
"Still, it rattles at times," Ujjwal answered, reading the manuscript that she had tossed aside. "Rumi, this is interesting. Are you taking it up?"
Handing him a cup, Rumi glanced at the papers and shrugged, "Not yet decided. They are offering me the part of Neha."
"Who is directing it?"
When Rumi named the director, Ujjwal was surprised. "Wow, he is good Rumi. You should take it up. What about pay? Is it fine?"
Rumi nodded and explained in detail the terms of offer. She didn't know why she was hesitant to grab the role. It was good money, decent production and brilliant director. Ujjwal encouraged her to take it, "Go for it babe. It is a good one."
Rumi was probably waiting for someone's endorsement and hence agreed to Ujjwal's appeal to contact the makers soon.
"I got something for you from Toronto." He handed her a gift wrapped packet. It was a delicate silver bracelet with a pair of maple leaves made of tiny pearls and red gems, welded on top of it.
"Oh this is so beautiful Ujjwal but I can't take it."
"Why not? I love you Rumi and I want you to have it. Don't refuse babe." He extracted the bracelet from the box, turned her wrist and clasped it. Admiring it, he placed his lips on her wrist.
Rumi did not reply but wrapped her arms around his neck and planted a kiss on his jaw. He lifted her in his arms and carried her to her room.
***************
Ziva looked around the room. The night was young and the party was in full swing. She took a corner couch from where the entire room was visible. The dim light above her did not attract much attention. She preferred it that way. With a striking face and high cheek bones, her dark kohl lined eyes did not miss much going around her. She had an innate sense of picking up the latest gossip around her. Her assistant Ujjwal supplied her with snacks and her favourite drink. He carried on with his socializing and collected enough news for her in such gatherings. At fifty-five, Ziva was still considered attractive and sexy. Many of her friends and acquaintances came up to her and chatted. This was a success party for the awards ceremony that a leading General Entertainment Channel had hosted a few days ago. Television stars with their partners, award winners, select Bollywood stars and production house owners walked the red carpet. The glitz and glamour made the party star-studded. Ziva knew most of them. The channel conducted an annual contest for young achievers and it was her task to groom them before they appeared on the national television. The show went on for thirteen weeks and on the last day, the winner was announced. The contestants had to go through gruelling tasks every week before they could reach the next milestone. Five seasons of the show was over and by now the chairman of the channel had become her good friend. Hence, she was invariably invited to every party of the media house that sponsored it. She attended some and skipped a few. She was in a party mood that day so decided to attend the party and after completing her social graces, settled on a couch to study the milling faces and people. Observing people was her favourite pastime. One of the young choreographers who had attended her finishing school noticed her. She came up to her and greeted her.
'Hello Ma'am, How are you?'
'Hi Sapna, I am doing well. How about you?'
'Ma'am, I have been approached by the channel for the next season's dance show. I wanted to visit you and take your advice.'
'Come to my house tomorrow. It is a Sunday and I will be free. Let us have brunch together.'
'Oh! Thanks Ma'am. I will come around 11 Am. Is that fine?'
Ziva nodded and the girl left in a happy state. Ziva went back to nursing her drink. She was always available for these young girls who were finding their feet in the unpredictable world of glamour. Not everyone succeeded here. It was true that most of the people dreaded approaching her because she did not take everyone under her wing. Some girls arrived with an enormous attitude and she took great pleasure in stripping them of it as quickly. Some like Sapna worshipped her. Ziva was everything that they aspired to be and she took great pride in the fact that these girls whom she had taken under her wing, were doing well in their chosen field. Like the current Bollywood sweetheart Nina Karthik, super model Melina Dutt, television diva Suvina Kak to name a few. Most of them joined the finishing school, learnt whatever they could and moved on in life. Some succeeded and some still waited for the big break. Other than willingness to give their best, she searched for that X-factor in them. Once she took them under her wing, it gave her a new lease of life to transform them into successful, desirable and envied women. When her work was done, she let them find their calling and most of the time, they succeeded. Wherever they were, they sent her birthday cards and messages and kept her up to date with their achievements. It gave her immense pleasure and pride to see them doing so well.
She was just finishing her drink when her eyes fell upon the attractive dark-haired girl.
What was Rumi Chaudhary doing here?
********************