different person when you’re not around.”
“What do you mean?” she stormed.
“She’s a smart and confident young woman, or at least she
seems to be. But when you’re in the vicinity, she starts blathering like a
child.”
“She does not,” cried Mira. “She isn’t able to handle
everything on her own. That is why we—all of us, Ma, Baba and me—we look after
her and protect her.”
“You’re not protecting her, Mira,” said Ranbir, stepping
closer, “you’re cocooning her, maybe even stifling her?” He put out a hand to
brush away a strand of hair that the breeze had blown onto her face. “I can
understand you want to protect her. I feel the same way about Tarun. I remember
the day when he was born. Dadi took me to the nursing home to see him—he was so
tiny. When his little fingers curled tight around my finger, I felt so big, so
protective. But that doesn’t mean I’ll hold his hand forever. I have to let him
make his own mistakes, to learn from those mistakes.”
Mira stared up at him, half-mesmerized by his fingers
stroking her cheek. “And you think Reema is a mistake?” she murmured.
“I did, but now…” said Ranbir softly, his finger moving
lower to where her neck began, still stroking gently. “Mira, let Reema live her
own life. Let her get to know the family and let the family get to know her.
How else will our plan work? Our best bet right now is to just let things take
their own course.”
Mira looked up at him wonderingly. She could feel his breath
on her face. He smelled of mint and the smoky aftershave he used. She felt
soothed, lulled, yet a strange fire was leaping up in her veins.
“Then why did you insist on getting me here?” she asked
directly.
“Do you know what you do to me, Mira?” he asked, still
teasing the soft skin of her neck. “I seem to be obsessed with you. I think of
you first thing in the morning, last thing at night. During meetings, I find
myself thinking of you, of the way your lashes veil your eyes like now, the way
your hair curls around your cheek like this, your ridiculously glittery bindi ,
the clamor of your bangles and your anklets. They fill my head. Surely, you
also feel something—I’ve felt your response.”
“Ranbir, I…” She hesitated for a moment, then looked up at
him frankly. “You know, there’s no point in this. You see me as a toy, which
you want right now, but which you will tire of when you’ve had enough. And
where would that leave me? The society in which I live does not permit
indulgences of the kind you seek. I would be ruined, Ma-Baba would be shamed if
I agreed to become your mistress.”
“So, you’re tempted?” he pressed.
“It would be difficult to say no,” she replied honestly. “I
have never felt like this before. But my saying yes would have disastrous
consequences, not just for me, but for all those whom I love. In our world,
such relationships are usually preceded by social sanction and marriage.”
A cruel light gleamed in Ranbir’s eyes. “Is that your game
then?” he asked grimly. “If you think I’m going to marry you for the pleasure
of bedding you, let me disabuse you of the notion.”
Mira shuddered at the viciousness in his voice.
“We belong in different worlds, you and I, Ranbir,” she said
quietly. “So let me go.”
≈
SIX
Dadi called Reema to her room early
the next day. Mira went with her, scowling as she remembered Ranbir’s
admonitions on the terrace the night before. It was none of his concern—she was
here to look after her sister and look after her was what she was going to do.
Dadi was having a cup of tea with Ranbir. She looked
questioningly at Mira, when the two girls came in. Mira went up to the old lady
and bent and touched her feet. Reema followed suit.
“Good morning, Dadi!” said Mira. “I thought I would come and
see you before I left for office.” Out of the corner of her eye, she could see
Ranbir raise an eyebrow. She squared her
“What do you mean?” she stormed.
“She’s a smart and confident young woman, or at least she
seems to be. But when you’re in the vicinity, she starts blathering like a
child.”
“She does not,” cried Mira. “She isn’t able to handle
everything on her own. That is why we—all of us, Ma, Baba and me—we look after
her and protect her.”
“You’re not protecting her, Mira,” said Ranbir, stepping
closer, “you’re cocooning her, maybe even stifling her?” He put out a hand to
brush away a strand of hair that the breeze had blown onto her face. “I can
understand you want to protect her. I feel the same way about Tarun. I remember
the day when he was born. Dadi took me to the nursing home to see him—he was so
tiny. When his little fingers curled tight around my finger, I felt so big, so
protective. But that doesn’t mean I’ll hold his hand forever. I have to let him
make his own mistakes, to learn from those mistakes.”
Mira stared up at him, half-mesmerized by his fingers
stroking her cheek. “And you think Reema is a mistake?” she murmured.
“I did, but now…” said Ranbir softly, his finger moving
lower to where her neck began, still stroking gently. “Mira, let Reema live her
own life. Let her get to know the family and let the family get to know her.
How else will our plan work? Our best bet right now is to just let things take
their own course.”
Mira looked up at him wonderingly. She could feel his breath
on her face. He smelled of mint and the smoky aftershave he used. She felt
soothed, lulled, yet a strange fire was leaping up in her veins.
“Then why did you insist on getting me here?” she asked
directly.
“Do you know what you do to me, Mira?” he asked, still
teasing the soft skin of her neck. “I seem to be obsessed with you. I think of
you first thing in the morning, last thing at night. During meetings, I find
myself thinking of you, of the way your lashes veil your eyes like now, the way
your hair curls around your cheek like this, your ridiculously glittery bindi ,
the clamor of your bangles and your anklets. They fill my head. Surely, you
also feel something—I’ve felt your response.”
“Ranbir, I…” She hesitated for a moment, then looked up at
him frankly. “You know, there’s no point in this. You see me as a toy, which
you want right now, but which you will tire of when you’ve had enough. And
where would that leave me? The society in which I live does not permit
indulgences of the kind you seek. I would be ruined, Ma-Baba would be shamed if
I agreed to become your mistress.”
“So, you’re tempted?” he pressed.
“It would be difficult to say no,” she replied honestly. “I
have never felt like this before. But my saying yes would have disastrous
consequences, not just for me, but for all those whom I love. In our world,
such relationships are usually preceded by social sanction and marriage.”
A cruel light gleamed in Ranbir’s eyes. “Is that your game
then?” he asked grimly. “If you think I’m going to marry you for the pleasure
of bedding you, let me disabuse you of the notion.”
Mira shuddered at the viciousness in his voice.
“We belong in different worlds, you and I, Ranbir,” she said
quietly. “So let me go.”
≈
SIX
Dadi called Reema to her room early
the next day. Mira went with her, scowling as she remembered Ranbir’s
admonitions on the terrace the night before. It was none of his concern—she was
here to look after her sister and look after her was what she was going to do.
Dadi was having a cup of tea with Ranbir. She looked
questioningly at Mira, when the two girls came in. Mira went up to the old lady
and bent and touched her feet. Reema followed suit.
“Good morning, Dadi!” said Mira. “I thought I would come and
see you before I left for office.” Out of the corner of her eye, she could see
Ranbir raise an eyebrow. She squared her
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