Sometimes the hatred and anguish of the past lurks inside us and beneath and beside our conduct like ghosts- we are somehow blinded, we but see only one side of the argument- the side where we know we were tormented. When you accept half truths, find contentment in it and feel like accusations and revenge can justify whatever happened, that's the point when it all goes down- relationships are either fake pretenses or no pretense-at all, everything but reduced to a longing of the past. But one can't just dust off the event that has so vehemently change the course of their lives and the consequences developed over the years. It's just too complicated and normalcy is impossible. But yeah, there's always somewhere we can all adjust.
I am closely associated with someone like Anjali in a altogether different scenario. It's a tiring thing to see someone so much stuck in hating someone (and refusing to see the whole picture. or thinking rationally). Even if they express or not, the bitterness for someone close is not at all gratifying.
I feel very sad for Arnav. He makes me cry. His endurance and strength is quite something.
Fourteen years ago, December
"Vimal, we need to talk." Shankar Jha blurts the moment he walks into the cabin belonging to one Vimal Raizada.
"We have a huge problem." Vimal frowns when he sees Shankar's wild eyes. The eyes around them have gotten shifty and he has been hearing hurried whispers involving his very own son. They still have no idea what is going on but he is suddenly very sure he knows.
"What exactly did you ask Arnav to do here?" Shankar paces the room. Vimal leans back in his chair and observes his best friend of forty years.
"I asked him to look at operations pertaining to manufacturing and concentrate more on R&D - both domestic and foreign." Vimal replies in a complacent tone. Shankar is seconds away from panicking.
"That's what I thought. Guess what he asked Shyam last night."
Vimal sighs. "Just tell me Shankar."
"Arnav is looking at our books - all of our operations and he naturally found some discrepancies."
Vimal snorts and splutters, "Naturally."
Shankar's eyes turn cold. "He asked Shyam about some consignments that we shipped to Africa last month. Arnav also mentioned that he will come and talk to one of us after he looks at the manifests himself."
Vimal shrunk back as if someone waved a massive flame of fire in front of his face. "I asked him not to go into other business lines than manufacturing. He wouldn't disobey me so blatantly."
Shankar looks at Vimal with an expression that is filled with fear and malcontent. "Confront him. Stop him." He says thinly. "If he doesn't stop, you know what is going to happen."
Vimal pales at the not so subtle threat.
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Vimal finds Arnav playing chess with his sister Anjali. Anjali smiles wanly when she sees her father coming in.
"You look tired papa," she says and shifts to make space for him on sofa. Arnav doesn't look up from the board.
"It's been a long day Anjali. What did you do today?" He asks the question he always asks. The monotony between these small talks became a necessity to an industrialist who dealt with information that he couldn't share in good conscience. The risks were too great.
Anjali, the apple of everyone's eye, shrugs delicately. "Mom and I went to shop for my new wardrobe. I am bored with what I have now papa so. I bought you a tie and a shirt of Chotey." Vimal smiles at his daughter's enthusiasm though his eyes are trained on his son. The focus Arnav exhibits is legendary and Vimal was privately jealous of that. For a businessman the kind of concentration Arnav had was an incredible asset; what took other an hour to read a presentation, took Arnav half the time with high retention. Suddenly he remembers Shankar's words from months before. Arnav's moral compass was absolute.
A beat escapes his heart. A twinge in his stomach makes his heart go even faster. If Arnav was to discover...
"How do you want to end this Di?" Arnav says without looking up from his board. "Check mate in three moves? Or if you are bored I can stretch it to six." He chuckles looking up. Seeing his father sitting next to his sister, his mouth stills and the chuckle dies before reaching its end.
"Long day at work?" He repeats Anjali's question but Vimal notices the tinge of sarcasm lacing through his words.
"It's the usual." Vimal shrugs and smiles easily. Arnav is young and doesn't have enough experience to hide his expression behind his face. He wears a mask alright but Arnav doesn't yet know how to fake emotions. Being emotionless was useful. But faking emotion was a game changer.
Arnav nods and looks back at the chess board. Vimal breathes a sigh of relief. As if noticing lax posture of his father Arnav asks, "Can we talk a bit before dinner?" Arnav doesn't meet his father's eyes. Vimal tries not to feel hurt by this.
"Of course son," he says softly and excuses himself.
The quietness that was slowly settling is dissipated by Anjali's shrieks and Arnav's follow-up laughter. He goes to the study to make few phone calls so that he can anticipate damage. He starts with Jha. He doesn't change and ignores tea that is placed in front of him. Vimal finds out handful of people who have been contacted by Arnav.
An hour later he has a dozen loose papers, half of a bigger tale, a migraine and an ache behind his ribs. His findings weren't giving him any good news. Vimal sips expensive scotch, formulates arguments in his head and prays to unknown deity to help him make his son understand the business model.
He startles when he hears knock on his door. He knows it is Arnav in the confident short raps and patience behind the wait.
"Come in," he calls out hoarsely.
"You haven't changed after coming home," Arnav notes and pours himself a glass of scotch. Vimal watches the storm behind Arnav's eyes.
"Catching up with some people." Vimal is easily evasive.
"Tell me about the consignment Raizada industries shipped to central Africa last month." Arnav doesn't waste time.
Vimal runs the words he has already practiced. "It's confidential." Vimal trains his face to be as stoic as possible. "It was requested by...people...to be kept off the books. Which makes me wonder - how did you find it out?"
Arnav looks at his father blankly. "And I am sure it is so confidential that if I were to talk to our military liaison, they wouldn't know or even if they did, they wouldn't confirm, correct?"
Vimal smiles pleasantly. "Yes. The orders came from very high up and I don't think the liaison or even his boss or the boss's boss would know about these orders. So if you were to ask they would be obligated to check and we will be compromised. Going to prison is a probability but we would never ever be defense contractors again."
"I see." Arnav replies.
Vimal blinks. In that moment he realizes how grown up Arnav truly is; he is unreadable, calm and doesn't exhibit any emotion. Arnav continues to sip scotch and watch his father. Vimal blinks again, heart thudding in his chest. It is very important for him, for Arnav to understand and be a part of the operation.
"Do you now?" Vimal asks slowly.
Arnav places his scotch glass next to decanter. "I came here to call you for dinner. Everyone is waiting." He replies and closes the door softly behind him.
Vimal slumps in his chair.
Well played Arnav, he thinks mulishly.
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"This is a surprise," Aman says sliding in smoothly. Arnav notes the brightness Aman naturally carries with all the hiccups and petty jealousy that tails him like a ghoul. Arnav's tiredness dissipates a bit when Aman smiles at him in his open affectionate way. Arnav swallows the disgust he feels for himself for using his best friend like this.
Arnav shrugs. "Consider this as a thank you for taking care of my sorry ass for the last three weeks."
Aman holds Arnav's glace for a moment longer and nods. "How did you even get into this place?" He asks, his eyes wildly roaming around the hotel. The upscale restaurant was a splash on viewers eyes but entrance was horribly snobbish. The rules of the institution had their own moral standards and they exclusively hosted patrons who they deemed worthy. Their entire agenda was based out of their definition of elite which covered a middle class government employee and a sports star. No one understood but everyone wanted in.
Arnav shrugs. "These people like me I guess." Aman raises an eyebrow at that. Arnav shrinks a little and shrugs again. "I don't have to make reservations in this establishment. It's the first time I am bringing someone here though."
Aman's eyes turn tender as he hears not even Lavanya' in Arnav's voice. It is petty, he thinks but for one glorious moment, he doesn't care.
"You could have made me Maggie and I would have been equally happy," Aman intones. The intimate setting of the table messes with his head and he stammers to stay on point. Its sweetest form of torture and Aman hates Arnav a little for it. The imbalance of their relationship is straining Aman while Arnav remains mostly oblivious.
Arnav smiles bashfully. "I know. But I wanted to do something special."
With that Aman collapses. "Please stop." He says leaning away from table and rubbing his face. Arnav looks flabbergasted. "I can't Arnav. I just can't." Aman says rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hands. "You do these things that are blatant romantic overtures and it f**ks with my head. I know you don't feel the same way as I do for you. Can you not please? Can you not be the guy I want you to be without offering me what I want?"
Arnav looks horrified. Tears spring in his eyes when he realizes how it may all have looked to Aman. "Aman. I swear I am not misleading. It wasn't that at all. You have been talking about this place forever and I just wanted to show -"
"Show me what, Arnav? Show me how it can be with the two of us? Show what I can't have with you? My parents today are conducting some sort of ritual in a holy town to get rid of the disease that I seem to have. I happen to love you and my parents have reduced the feelings I have for another man to a disease that can be cured spiritually."
"That wasn't my intention at all Aman," Arnav stutters. He reaches out to touch Aman but Aman snatches his own hands back and places them under the table. Arnav looks down and bites his lips hard. How could he have been so oblivious? How could he hurt his best friend this way? How could he knowingly take advantage of his friend's kindness? "Please Aman. Tell me what to do. I don't know what to do here. Whatever you say, I will follow." Arnav says desperately.
Aman sighs and rubs his face again. The shine in his eyes have disappeared and the general ease is now taut and wounded. Arnav swallows looking at Aman and for the first time seeing the impact he has on his best friend.
"The worst part is if I were to ask you to love me the way I want to, you will stupidly find a way to do it even though you may not enjoy it yourself." Aman says wryly. It isn't humor but the matter of fact relationship the two have. "And I am so woefully in love with you that I in fact toyed with the idea - the idea to demand your affection for me." Finally, Aman looks up. "I am a horrible human being to think that way you know? I should be the last person to make someone do something they don't feel. You go and do these grand gestures for me and all the rationality in the world cannot stop the thoughts, the disturbing ideas I get, desperately trying to make you mine."
Arnav sits there silent and wondering. "I am sorry." Arnav says not knowing what else he can say at this point. The food lays uneaten, the wine is quiet and the candles burn low. "I am affectionate towards you Aman because I do really like you. I like taking you to place like these because you have appreciation for them and I love, love to see you having a good time. I have plotted thirteen different ways to confront your parents and tell them to leave you the f**k alone. I have desk full of memorabilia you have given me in the last two decades. I take comfort in your presence, in your words and in your hugs. I find comfort in your apartment more than my own room because I know that if I was getting close to hit my rock bottom, you would grab me by my collar, lift me up and hold me till I found my ground. I have carved spaces in your life just like you have in mine. I like buying expensive shit for you because you are absolutely adorable when you receive them and the way you hold on to them. I love seeing you smile. I want to be someone in your life who will always make you smile. I will do everything and anything to make you happy. This is how I love you Aman. This is the only way I know how to love you. And this what I have been doing all my life."
Arnav clutches the table cloth tightly and takes several deep breaths.
"Asking for anything more wouldn't be right." Aman says softly. "I believe you when you say you will do anything to make me happy. You will take the path of self-martyrdom and never let me see the ache in your heart. You are a good guy Arnav. But at this moment, I can't be here. Right now, I can't look at you and see the boundaries of your affection. I can't sit here and mourn for what I cannot have. Is what you feel for me enough? No. But you give me everything and some more of what you do feel for me. For that I am forever grateful and you cannot know how happy I am that you are with me. I do however need to nurse my wounds in private Arnav. Do you understand?" Aman asks softly.
"Anything you need." Arnav says.
"You are such a dumbass for making promises like these." Aman shakes his head at Arnav affectionately. Arnav looks at him quietly and gives Aman a tiny smile. Aman wipes his brow and the corner of his eyes with tissue and throws it on the side of their table. "Will you bring me here again sometime?" Aman asks with a soft smile.
The tension in Arnav's neck snaps and he lets out a startled chuckle. "Whenever you want." Seeing Aman eying the food he adds, "You want to take this food home, don't you?"
Aman chuckles and nods. He isn't shining as bright as earlier anymore but Arnav is sure that they are going to get there someday.
But for now, they had to stay on their side of boundary.
Done. This was...
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