Hello Dearies,
Thanks for all your lovely comments, feedbacks, speculations on
the last chapter. This one is a long one, but I am sure you
will be glad that I left it that way😉.
Without further ado here is the much awaited date night.
Read enjoy and comment.
Disclaimer:
The photographs used here are not mine. They have been procured for
illustrative purposes from internet sources for public consumption
Pyaar in the Pink City(English)
Part 15
Blazing Hearts &
Soothing Rains
Udhar Tum Hasin Ho, Idhar Dil Jawaan Hai
Ye Rangin Raaton Ki, Ek Daastaan Hai
Ye Kaisa Hai Naghma Ye Kya Daastaan Hai
Bataa E Mohabbat Mera Dil Kahaan Hai
Mere Ghar mein Aayi Hui Hai Bahaar
Quayamat hai phir bhi, karoon intezaar
Mohabbat, kuch aisi, saza de rahi hai
Ki khud raat angdayiyan le rahi hai
Jidar dekhthi hoon, Nazaara Jawaan hai!
~Lyrics of the Song 'Udhar tum hasin ho' from
the movie Mr. & Mrs. 55
"Namaste
Hukum" said the brightly turbaned man dressed in white, his hands folded and
head slightly bowed. "Namste
Jaipal. How is everyone?" asked
Ajay. He continued to hold Anjali's hand
loosely after having helped her down from the chopper at the end of their hour
long flight. "Everyone is doing great
Hukum and are eagerly awaiting you. Everything
is ready per your specifications." Ajay
nodded and looking at Anjali said" Anjali meet Jaipal. He is the acting chief of this small
settlement we have here. Jaipal, this is
Anjali ji." Namste madam. Welcome" he
said guiding them towards the settlement of mud houses and cottages that seemed
to be spread in some sort of a village encampment. She realized they were on the edge of the
desert, well past Jaisalmer, for she had recognized the honey gold structures
of Jaisalmer city as they had flown over it.
As
they walked through the settlement, Ajay informed her that this tiny community
was spread over eighty bheegas or approximately forty acres of land and several
rich patrons had formed a welfare association to sponsor the needs of this
community of artisans and their families in an attempt to preserve the rich
folk traditions and handicrafts of Rajasthan.
Numerous artisan families had been abandoning their ancestral craft
because they could not compete with the large export houses that ended up
ripping them off, or they had joined these mass production houses as
day-laborers to bring home their daily bread.
Rathod group of companies had initiated a fund called "Spurti" and roped
in various philantophists to support the cause.
The trust provided a large chunk of the money needed for the upkeep of
these families and ensured their creativity flowed uninterrupted. Anjali had been impressed by the artist,
but now as she looked on at the loving greetings bestowed on Ajay by the
villagers, she adored the man for what he was and what he gave back to the
community.
"This
right here is the true Rajasthan; the very heart of the land where you can see
first hand the spirit of its people Anjali.
Take a good look; Here people's purses are empty, but their hearts are full
of love and courage, their heads are held high, and their dreams are filled
with bright colors. This a land of proud
people. What we do with our trust keeps
their kids in school, the folk crafts alive and lucrative so Rajasthan's rich
tradition and legacy lives on." "This is your first visit here, you must buy
something didi" said a handsome young
lad of fourteen in a persuasive voice. "Quiet
chotte. Madam, please feel free to pick
anything that catches your fancy. It
will be a humble gift from us to you" replied Jaipal modestly.
Anjali
was delighted with the spirited lad, she walked towards him and asked with a
smile, "So your name is chotte is it? " "Yes ma'am" replied the boy "I am a
business man and this right here is my shop."
She took an instant liking to this confident lad and decided to get
something from him. He was selling fine
pieces of beaten silver, copper and bronze jewelry set with semi precious
stones or beads. She was amazed at the
beautiful handwork and the high quality of the pieces. Finally she picked a waist belt of delicate
antique silver threads woven into a loose braid randomly studded with tiny un-polished
rubies and garnets. "Not bad Sugar
Queen, you do have an eye for the original" he said paying the boy, adding a
generous tip. He waved off her protests
with, "It's just a little souvenir in memory of this evening" and guided her
by her elbow towards a pair of colorfully decked camels. Anjali gasped and clutched at his arm
nervously as she realized what was in store next.
They
rode into the distant sand dunes as the sun was on its final leg of descent in
the western skies. Though nervous at the
beginning, Anjali enjoyed every bit of her ride as they approached a private
section of the dunes, and from her high perch she saw miles and miles of golden
sand spread out like a rich pile of carpet, with its canopy of blue gold sky
darkening to purple at the edges. The
entire village and the dunes were free of tourists unlike the other
jaunts. Ajay was right; she was
experiencing the real culture and hospitality of the Rajasthani's here, free of
commercial influences, and loud filmy music.
She
snapped out of her contemplation when she sensed her camel lowering on its
knees. Anjali grasped the saddle tight
and screwed her eyes shut in trepidation.
"Come on now Sugar Queen. Don't
tell me you are scared of this!" Came the half-amused exclamation from
Ajay. Anjali's eyes flashed briefly in
indignation only to be replaced with pure pleasure at the sight in front of
her. In the middle of the dunes was a
beautiful setting straight out of an Arabian Nights tale. A deep red carpet was topped with a low wide
table of white metal intricately carved and inlaid in multicolored motifs, set
for two with tiny antique hurricane lanterns, polished brass plates and goblets,
and clay pots filled with mouth-watering food.
So lost was she in admiring the scene that she had not realized she had
not dismounted until she felt Ajay's long fingers encircling her waist, plucking
her off her perch as if she were a rag doll.
She wrapped her arms around his shoulders in an automatic response and
lost herself in his gaze as he slowly set her down, and gently turned her
around to catch the final moments of the sunset as the sun slipped down the
horizon coloring the skyline defiantly in a brilliant orange, one last time for
the day. Anjali sighed and leaned her
head backwards on his shoulder, hugging herself, and just enjoyed the beauty
and peace in the moment. "Remorse would
come later, for now, it was a magic carpet ride and she was with her Alladin
tonight." Ajay stepped closer to her, his body supporting her weight and
leaning his chin against her temple drank in the beauty of the setting sun and
the rising moon.
The
great desert outdoors had fired their appetite.
Both Anjali and Ajay ate the traditional fare they were served by Jaipal
and his wife with gusto. They were
sitting next to each other on a soft white diwan piled with colorful bolsters
and bright cushions embellished with mirrors that reflected the candle light. As the night air began to cool rapidly, the
men attending to them had set two clay firepits on either side of their seating
and had kindled a steady fire that kept them toasty warm. Ajay who was now sporting a turban befitting
his lineage at the insistence of Jaipal, was leaning on his elbow against the
bolster watching her polish off the last bite of her meal. "Seriously, this is the best meal I have
eaten ever, or the most I have eaten ever for that matter" claimed Anjali
delicately rinsing her fingers in the finger bowl that was offered. "I am glad you enjoyed it Anjali. Come sit by me "he said patting the space
closer to him and continued,"I'll show you the constellations while things are
readied for the next act." "Ooh! There's
more?" questioned Anjali scooting closer twisting her head around to look at
his face like a little girl who has been promised a big treat for good
behavior. Ajay chuckled as he pondered
the irony of the situation he faced, her
innocent expression of glee contrasted violently with the effortless sensuality
she exuded. His body answered to the
latter and his heart to the former.
She had
never realized how beautifully expansive the night sky looked nor had she seen
stars this bright in Delhi where the horizon was marred by tall buildings, the
night sky was visible only in patches while the city smog and harsh lights
overpowered the ethereal beauty of the twinkling stars. Out here, in the midst of the Great Thar Desert,
the star-studded night was magical. The
black velvety sky above and the golden sands below seemed to extend
endlessly. Anjali leaned against Ajay's knee following his voice and his
finger as he pointed out the lesser known constellations. She had always had a
fascination for all things astral. Ever
since Khushiji had become part of the family it had become a Friday night ritual
for the two of them to gaze at the heavenly bodies through their telescope at
home. One glimpse of this starry night
sky and Khushi ji would be in seventh heaven thought Anjali.
She
straightened,drew up her knees and rested her chin on them at the first strains
of music. Some of the artisans were
musically oriented and had gathered in two groups. The table had been cleared of the remnants of
their meal and was replenished with thandai in a brass pitcher and two goblets. Women in beautiful mirrored ghagras and
flashing metallic jewellery stepped forward and began their twirling, swirling dance
as the men sang songs of Rajput valor and love in their haunting voices. Anjali's throat choked up several times
before the song-dance ballad came to an end.
The young business man, Chotte had a golden voice and had captivated her
with his rendition. She wiped the
corners of her eyes and clapped enthusiastically. The musical spell that had entranced her for
the past hour or more broke leaving her acutely conscious of Ajay's hard body
against her back and the muscular leg against which she had leaned during the
performance. She had been completely
unaware that she had shifted so close to him that she now found her entire body
had been cozily ensconced against Ajay's the whole time.
She
stood up needing to put some space between them and silently passed out the tip
that Ajay handed her to the entertainers.
With a parting farewell to chotte and Jaipal she mounted her camel to
return back to their chopper. Anjali
remained markedly silent on their trip back, she drew comfort from Ajay's arm
around her shoulder and nestled closer to his side, but her insides where
squirming dangerously and she felt a huge lump lodged in her throat. You
have just had the most amazing night with a handsome, caring man, and all you
could come up with was a lump in your throat.
You are pathetic Anjali.
Something is seriously wrong with you. Screamed one of her inner voices,
while the other just muted itself in utter misery. She had been ecstatic tonight and yet her
heart trembled with an unknown dread. Sighing she closed her eyes
pretending to sleep.
The
air had changed as they drove back to the haveli. It was close to midnight and the night felt
cooler and damper indicating rain that night.
"Over there, look" said Ajay slowing down to a stop by the lake on the grounds
of Malhar and pointed to a pair of peacocks by the marble gazebo in the
lake. They were moving slowly in a
circle as if in a trance shivering ever so lightly sending the splendorous
blues and greens of their fully fanned out feathers into a psychedelic pattern
of shimmering colors. Anjali stepped out
with an exclamation of delight at this fabulous sight. She had read about the beauty of a peacock's
dance in poetry and ancient mythology, but never before had she had the
pleasure of witnessing one. Oh God! Tonight has been such a magical
one. If only she could give in to her
heart's desire and wrap her arms around Ajay, feel his chiseled body against
hers, and melt in his arms. Why was it
so difficult? Wasn't she a free woman?
Ajay
had alighted from the car and stood leaning against it silently watching her as
she lost herself in her admiration of the dancing peacocks. He noticed the subtle shifts in her body
language and felt her acute longing, even without the need to see her face. Moving to stand behind her, slowly, very
slowly, he reached out to move her braid over one shoulder, pressed his parted
lips against the curve of her neck while pulling her flush against his body
with his arm, and whispered, "Sugar Queen, peacocks dance as a prelude to
mating. Bet you thought they do it when
they sense the rains." His warm breath
and words sent a delicious shiver through her frame and she swallowed hard the
moan that threatened to break out of her lips.
Ajay let his lips linger on the object of his admiration a few seconds
longer, and then slowly trailed kisses along her shoulder blade, over her collar
bone and up the side of her throat to nip at her ear. Anjali threw her head back, sinking against
him and a single word, a tremulous "Ajay" tore straight from her heart and
escaped her lips ending on a gut tugging moan, before she could bite it back. Ajay turned her around swiftly and pulling
her against his chest captured her lips in a blazing kiss. There was no tentative exploration, or
preamble to his kiss. It was an
expression of white hot desire; one which found an instant response from Anjali
as she encircled her arms around his neck pressed her tightening bodice against
his chest and kissed him right back.
Years of his self-control broke, opening the floodgates at her
response. He groaned and pressed into
her supple body as he continued his kisses down her throat and lingered at the
top of her heaving bosom.
Anjali's
mind whirled in a kaleidoscope of colors. It
was like the fast twirling lights of the fair when she was seated on a spinning
carousel and the whole world seemed to be spinning by in a sea of lights while
she seemed to soar. This man, this
amazing handsome man wanted her, he thought she was beautiful. Her vanity
soared and her heart longed for one blissful moment, to succumb, before she
felt hot tears pricking her eyelids and streaming down her cheeks. A man like Ajay deserved more, much more than
she could offer. He deserved someone
perfect not broken physically and emotionally like she was. This had to stop, this madness, all of
it. She must stop him, even if it meant
hurting him, both of them. She clutched
his shoulders digging into them; fighting the weakness in her knees brought on
by the havoc he was causing with his lips against her midriff and tugged at his
kurta urging him up.
Ajay
stopped and raised his puzzled eyes to her tear stained face. "Anjali, baby did I hurt you. I thought you wanted this, wanted me as much
as I," He stopped and stepped back folding his hands across his chest, giving
her a moment to wipe her eyes and face him.
"What is it Anjali?"
"Ajayji,
You are the most amazing date a woman could ask for. You swept me off my feet, trust me, it's not
you---." "Oh for heaven's sake
Anjali! Spare me the cliches and get to
the damned point." He rasped out. Anjali
merely pursed her lips and shook her head lifting and dropping her shoulders
helplessly. "Take me to the Haveli Ajay.
Please" her eyes pleaded. Ajay swore under his breath and then took a
deep calming breath. He strode over to the car and held the door open for her
to step in, his eyes firmly fixed on the ground.
Returning
to his room, Ajay paced in frustration.
He had not misread her. She was
having a great time and was as much drawn to him as he was to her. He replayed the last scene in his head over
and over again hoping to pinpoint what they had said just before she pulled her
ice princess mask on. But all it did was
aggravate his desire instead of solving the puzzle. At long last he switched off the lights and
flung open the French windows to step out into his balcony, and what he saw
froze him to his spot.
In
the balcony across, her arms crossed over her chest and her face raised to the
heavens, stood Anjali drenched to the skin under the pouring rains. One of
the purple orchids he had brought her this evening was tucked in her hair over
her left ear. And what was that? Was that his gift, the silver waist belt that
was gleaming at her waist against the purple of her outfit? "There she goes again giving off her mixed
signals. She fights me tooth and nail
and looks for solace in the pouring rains wearing my gifts next to her skin." Ajay's insides were ripping to shreds at
Anjali's condition. And then, realization
dawned bright and clear. He was not just attracted to her; he was in
love with her! He was hopelessly in love
with this maddening, infuriating, contrary woman. And close on the heels of this revelation
came a sinking sense of doubt,"What if
she was already in love with some one?
Did she still harbor deep feelings for her ex-husband or some one else
from the past? He did not exactly know a
lot about what had happened in her personal life now. Did he?
He needed answers to the questions hounding him, and he needed them
soon."
He closed the French doors softly, drew
the drapes shut, and raking his fingers through his hair decided, "I'll be damned if I let her get away and
hide behind a feigned mask as she seems to be habituated to doing. Her responses and signals were not a figment
of my imagination and the proof of that is the flower in her hair and the
silver belt encircling her waist; MY GIFTS. Anjali, brace yourself!"
********************************************
PS: The song whose lyrics I used at the beginning is a personal favorite of mine from the golden B&W movies of Bollywood. Picturized on the talented and creative original director/actor - Guru Dutt and the ravishing Madhubala. For those of you who would like to watch this please click the link below
http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_detailpage&v=9JbQs3L7A8c
Edited by ForLoveofBarun - 10 years ago
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