The next day, Madhu immersed herself in looking for new life opportunities, when the doorbell rang. Wondering if it would be Ashok again, she quickly dressed herself. Vijaya wasn't at home as she was on a date with Kishore.
Madhu rushed to the door and opened it to find Biswa standing on the opposite side.
"Hi," she grinned. It was a sight to sore eyes to see her boss and friend here. He reminded her of work, something she missed but couldn't go back to.
"Can I come in?"
Madhu welcomed him, making him sit on the couch while she suggested something to drink, which he just waved off.
"So when will you be returning Madhu?"
"Eh?"
"I want you back."
The way he said it, it was a demand more than a request. And she hated to be ordered around. But she didn't want that sort of expression to cross her face, for Biswa was just a desperate man right now.
"I can't come."
"Looking for other jobs? I can speak for your salary hike..."
"It's not the money, Biswa. It's me. I don't belong here."
"Then where do you belong?"
She had been struggling with that question. She researched a little, hoping to find something of her choice. She had lately begun obsessing about a peaceful hike in Triund. But that was just going away from the civilization and she wouldn't do that till Vijaya moves out.
"You are just being paranoid."
"Am I?" she was. "I don't care. All I know is that I don't want to be there. But Biswa you are more than welcome to come and meet me. You have always been a good person regardless of you being an asshole sometimes to me."
He laughed. "I had to. I was your boss. But I promise," he held his throat, "you kill me if I don't. It's just that I have to use your beauty to flatter horny men sometimes. Don't get me wrong, you are quite pretty."
She rolled her eyes. "I'm not."
"Don't be that chick who knows she's pretty but doesn't admit it because she's being modest. Don't be that lame person. Admit that you are a wonderful person and I'm an idiot to behave with you like that."
He was making up for what he did but she wasn't offended by that. It was one of the things she knew she had to do. But her conscience had now finally halted her.
She noticed Biswa's way of steepling his fingers together. He was nervous, that's all. Madhu, being the person she was, began to talk to Biswa about other things before he hugged her awkwardly.
When he was gone, she got a call from an unknown number. It was a landline number. She knew who it was. The intuition had come to her. She picked it up and didn't speak only to hear heavy breathing from the other end of the phone.
"I apologize for what I did yesterday," the voice was partially drunk or at least it seemed like.
"No, it's all right. Your wife's topic is quite sensitive."
There was a cough. "I feel awful."
"Don't worry about it, I understand."
"What were you doing?" the voice cleared a little.
Madhu began talking about what she was actually doing and she liked how he listened to whatever she spoke about Vijaya, her marriage with Kishore and about the eerie Pran, who would trouble her. It felt like he was really interested in her world and he wanted to know everything. But when it came to him, he would dismiss it with one or two liners. Madhu recalled what she had read about the union issues at his factory.
"I Googled you."
"Is that a verb now?"
"Yeah, I guess," she continued anxiously. She didn't want him to run away again and hide from her. She liked him around. "I read what happened to your factory, how there was a labour strike eight years back."
"Is there anything else written about me?" he was suddenly defensive.
"No."
"Hmmm," he sighed. "The union leader, what was his name? Mehmood? He didn't like me very much. Found me petty towards them. So I got angry once and I shouted at the leader. It resulted in some mutual harsh words and that resulted in the strike."
"Did you ever recuperate?"
"No. The factory fell. The warehouse was shut. Mehmood made sure I would be bankrupt." "Now after so many years I'm trying to build up another union in favor of me so I can start the factory again. The Dogra Mills was the first mill in Gurgaon, before anything else came. We had helped in providing so many labour opportunities and they in return spat on us. I hate it when it comes to this. But I won't give up."
"Mehmood had this quote that you tortured his nephew or something."
There was a dismissive sigh. "He was a liar. He would do anything to bring media attention. I didn't even know who his nephew was."
"Why didn't you do anything then?"
"I was grieving Waheeda's loss. This happened around the time of her death. I lost my professional and personal life." His voice had grown quiet. "I was so alone."
"I'm so sorry."
"But things have changed since then."
"How so?"
"Well, I have you to give me company now," his voice chuckled.
Madhu couldn't help but smile about it.
*
Madhu had been called to the pre-engagement party of Vijaya and Kishore, which was basically both their family and friends having a good time and celebrating their soon to be formalized nuptials. There was free flowing liquor and that was where Madhu went. The congratulations, the horror of Vijaya and Kishore together was making Madhu sick and nostalgic of all those memories she had with Vijaya, which were soon going to end.
She took a glass or two of whiskey, sipping and scanning the room as she knew no one in the banquet hall. They were all aristocratic South Indian and North Indian parents. She had met Vijaya's mom and dad, awkwardly. Madhu hadn't been the best with her elders.
"All alone, yet again," the voice came from the side.
It was Pran with his Nehru jacket, and his beard trimmed neatly. If it wasn't for his horrid manners, Madhu would've complimented him. He had a glass of champagne in his hand, from which he sipped gleefully.
"I don't want to talk to you."
"You have just me here, so why not?"
Madhu didn't want to answer him. He was literally no one.
"Aren't they happy?" Pran began.
Madhu noticed Vijaya and Kishore, holding hands and meeting the guests. She hadn't come to meet Madhu once.
"Priorities change, my dear," he added as if he could read her mind. "You were once her favorite; now it's him. Such is the curse of the times."
Madhu turned to the bar and ordered another glass of whiskey, when Pran intervened. "Have Vodka shots. I'll join you."
"No," she was already feeling dizzy. "I'm f-fine."
"Please, I insist," he continued in a soothing voice.
Pran ordered two glasses of Vodka. Without even thinking once, Madhu gulped it down, her throat feeling the hellishly burning liquid course down. She began to sweat and her ears had gone red. Her stomach lurched with pain.
Bad combination.
"Oh dear, let me take you outside to freshen up," Pran grabbed her by the arm and whisked her away from the crowd.
Madhu's sight was turning darkening near the periphery and she realized she was just blinking very slowly. When she walked away from the noise and the songs, to find herself outside the banquet hall, she realized something was definitely wrong.
"Come, I'll drop you at your house," he wrapped his arms around her waist.
"No, n-no."
"You are not in a position to drive."
"Please, leave me alone."
"Hey, baby girl," he grabbed her by the back and pushed her against his chest. She could smell the horrible alcohol and smoke from his mouth. "Stop running away from me. I will have you. One way or the other."
And then he pulled her close and went for her mouth.