Chapter 5
The months were passing consisting of hectic days. The engagement was not really crowded; no more than one hundred people were present.
Astha was trying to help her parents in all possible ways. Astha participated in the preparations despite the fact Anjuli insisted on some agencies. Anjuni wanted no help from her. She was an influential woman let alone Niranjun Agnihotri. His word was the last in all the debates.
However, Astha wanted to enjoy the process and she succeeded in it I especially when it appeared to be that the hostile armies in the face of the fop left the country for a couple of months for some business purposes in the UK.
Parvati was tired to be scared and decided to join the rut of life. She was seeing Varad one-two times a week. They spoke over the phone everyday and Parvati being open at first with Astha started to distance herself from her with the course of time. At first Astha was a bit offended and disappointed by her sister's behavior but then she understood it was the law of life.
Parvati had the future ahead. The future with her husband and she chose rightly. Her husband would always be of paramount importance for Parvati and she was trying to accept this fact getting to know him better. She just had no time for Astha anymore.
Parvati and Varad have been talking for hours over the phone and Astha was left on her own.
...
Paro was invited by Anjuli to shop the presents and Astha was invited too. Meaningless act of goodwill. Mrs. Agnihotri called Paro herself and made an appointment. She said she would pick girls up from their home.
Seeing Mrs. Agnihotri driving herself the huge full-sized SUV both girls were astonished beyond imagining. The traditional woman in saree disappeared and they met the real Anjuli Agnihotri: feminine, graceful, high-heeled beauty in expensive skinny jeans with long dark curly hair and cold eyes. Indian Cindy Crawford, thought Astha.
"Parvati, Astha, get in the car" her smile didn't touch her eyes.
"Mrs. Agnihotri" the girls greeted her heartily. Parvati sat beside her, Astha occupied the back seat.
"Astha, you can call me Anjuli. Parvati, you too if you wish" Girls exchanged glances. Anjuli? Just like that? What madness!
"But may I call you Mother? If you don't mind of course" shyly inquired Paro.
"Of course, you can. There are things I like to keep loose and locker" she shrugged her shoulders looking at Paro with a smile that left her eyes uninvolved but then she gazed at Astha "But there are thing I like to have in grip" Astha was a smart girl and realized that was a threat masked under the nice smile. This Anjuli was the most intriguing woman, admitted Astha. What was wrong between them? Why she threatened her? Why she was so "sweet" with Paro? The only explanation that came to her mind - Anjuli was lost in guessing about the imperceptible nods Astha and Varad exchanged at the first meeting. Maybe she thought they were somehow connected in the past. Astha prayed to God the woman was unaware about the hatred she generously shared with her second son. Subconsciously Astha knew Anjuli loved Shlok madly. He was her copy in everything: appearance, passions, and demeanor. Varad was his father's son, Shlok possessed mother's blood.
"Where will we go, Mother?" Paro was positively brave today admitted Astha.
"To my stores" curtly answered Anjuli.
"You have stores, Aunty?" Astha felt arising interest towards this enigmatic woman. She couldn't call her by the name. Too bold. She had no age like Rekha, no flaws, no weaknesses. She was the Iron Lady. To some extent Astha even found it exciting to communicate to a lady like her. Her own mother was a sweet simple Indian woman who married a promising young man that made a good carrier. Mrs. Kirloskar was a housewife and her world was limited to a circle of friends and partners of her husband.
Anjuli was different in all senses... She has seen and experienced a lot, that was getting clear looking in her deep eyes through which her intelligence was shining. Was Varad clever like her? Why "the second" was so stupid then... That woman was a magnet for the eyes.
Anjuli's hands with long thin perfectly manicured fingers were gripping the steering wheel tightly and confidently "How many years have you been driving, Aunty?" Astha was sincerely amazed at her driving skills. She was fast but cautious.
"Thirty years" was a short answer. The figure sounded fantastic. Thirty? It didn't look like she was kidding.
"Oh my God, you must have been the first woman in India to get the driving license" blurted Astha and regretted it the next moment.
"I'm not that old, Astha, as you imply besides I was not living in India that time" Anjuli didn't look at her while talking. Not a single glance even at the mirror. She wasn't living in India at that time... Where then?
"I'm sorry. I didn't want to offend you" backed Astha. Her tongue has always been her enemy.
"You can not offend me" Astha felt the poison injection immediately. She could not offend Anjuli Agnihotri and Astha was nobody for her, an empty space. The "second" told her the same. She was nobody for them both. Like mother like son.
Well.. blood was certainly not water...
Astha desperately wanted to know more about that stunning woman. How was it possible to be so beautiful? Why so aloof and poisonous? Why has she never looked at her husband keeping the distance from him? Astha wanted to question her about her past but understood she lost her chance earlier when she passed her sarcastic remark so ill-timed. All she was left with was the pleasure of watching at her perfect hair and well-groomed hands. The girl clenched her fists - no signs of a manicure... She felt herself the laundress sitting beside the Queen.
Edited by bm11 - 9 years ago
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