Forbidden Desires (3 page)

Naina got to work on her new cookbook, her second one since winning the television cookery competition. She already had a few recipes and had a few more to go. But after the debacle of her anniversary and her failed attempts at bringing romance back into her marriage, Naina felt emotionally drained. She wanted some advice, some relief. She needed someone she could open up to who would not judge her. While her mom’s group was great, they all seemed to have blissful marriages and liked gossiping about those who didn’t. She needed to talk to someone who would not tell on her secrets.

It was one of the mornings when she was lacking female company that she decided to go visit her friend, Pinky. Pinky ran a beauty parlour in Naina’s colony. She was an entrepreneur and they got along famously.

‘Well hello, sexy,’ Pinky said as soon as Naina walked through the door. She got up from her corner-table and met her. They gave each other a peck on the cheek.

Pinky: 40. Born and raised in Delhi. Short. Plump. Boisterous. Punjabi. Exquisite clear honey-kissed skin. Dark green eyes. Coloured blonde hair. Bore a strange resemblance to Kareena Kapoor but claimed they weren’t related. Wore loud clothes. Extremely warm and friendly. Queen bee. Had three children.

‘You look terrible,’ Pinky said as soon as they settled on their chairs. ‘I think we need to do the whole package for you today.’

‘Nice try madam, but I have no money for the entire package. You looted me last time. I’ll stick with a head massage today. Or maybe I’ll just sit and chat with you. By the way what a lovely suit you’re wearing.’

‘Hai na? I got it at that exhibition at Hotel Ashoka that I told you about but you couldn’t come. They had beautiful stuff. You should have come with me!’ Pinky spoke with a heavy accent.

‘I know!’ Naina loved going for exhibitions with Pinky. Pinky had a great eye for designer ripoffs. She would make Naina buy an outfit that she had spied in Fashion Week but which was made by a tailor at an exhibition for half the price.

‘You toh were busy with your child’s birthday party na?’ Pinky called the maid and asked her to make two cups of tea, ‘Do chai dena. Achchi adrak wali.’

‘Yeah, Pinks,’ Naina replied. ‘I took three months to prepare for that.’

‘Why do you do so much? Pizza Hut mein le chalo. Sabko khilao aur bhaga do,’ Pinky said with a wave of her hands.

Naina laughed merrily. ‘I wish I could. The other mothers I know all throw parties at farm houses and hotels. They have theme parties with magicians flown in from Paris and all yaar. If I send my children to those parties then I have to throw a party on the same level right?’

‘It’s all your fault for sending your children to high flying schools. DPS, Modern, all these fancy schools na.’

Naina shook her head. ‘But they don’t go to these schools. They go to a private international school.’

‘Leh!’ Pinky said dramatically. ‘Aur bhi mushkil. Aur lakhon ke party karte raho phir. By the way what did you do for your kid’s party this year?’

‘Circus theme.’

‘Baap re. Where?’

‘I rented a large ground near Mehrauli. And I invited a big circus to put up tents so kids could do acrobatics and play. There were bouncy rooms for the smaller kids and bungee jumping for the bigger ones. There was a small area for petting animals also like a mini zoo.’

‘Were you one of the animals? Because you’re an ass for spending so much!’ Pinky laughed. She wouldn’t take so much liberty with Naina if the two of them weren’t so close. They had known each other for years now. Naina was very fond of her.

‘You should have come,’ Naina said, taking a sip of her tea. ‘The kids would have loved it.’

Pinky smiled and said, ‘It was good we were away for our holiday then. Otherwise my kids would also want such parties. But Switzerland was amazing. Thank God all of us like the cold weather. Varna hum kabhi bhi kahin nahin ja paate.’

Naina nodded. ‘Ab chod na. I have to do these things. It’s a vicious cycle. If I send out an invitation to go to Pizza Hut, none of my kids’ friends will land up. And then they will feel bad. And they will be ostracized from their group. All because I want to save money. And then they won’t be invited for their friends’ lavish parties. Maine toh kuch nahin kiya. Last year there was a mother who did an entire Princess theme where she flew down all the “Frozen” princess lookalikes for the girls to take photos with. And she did an entire make up and costume party with real costumes of Disney princesses for everyone to dress up in. Then there was a performance by some singer also. I think it was Sunidhi Chauhan. That was for the adults who attended the party.’

‘Baap re. How old was this child? 18?’

‘Seven.’

‘Seven?!’ Pinky almost fell off her chair. ‘My three kids know nothing about these princesses. Chota Bheem and one cake that everyone cuts. Samosas and chips as snacks.’

‘Seriously, Pinky? And your children are happy with that?’

‘Ab what to do? Sunny lost a lot of money in the last IPL na. And I need my annual vacation with the whole family. So whatever money is saved goes in that. Not birthday parties.’

‘How did Sunny lose money?’

‘Betting!’

‘He bets?’ Naina was horrified.

‘No no.’ Pinky shook her head vehemently. ‘He takes money from people and puts it in teams.’

‘You mean he’s a bookie?’ Naina had gotten more curious.

‘You could say that. But everything is legal nowadays.’

‘No baba it’s not,’ Naina said quickly. ‘Be careful.’

‘If it’s not then how come all these politicians and film stars are doing it? Won’t they also get caught?’

‘Which film stars?’

Pinky started telling her what she knew from her husband’s stories. Naina couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Then suddenly Pinky’s mobile phone rang and as she picked it up her voice turned lower. ‘I’ll have to take this. Pati. One minute.’

She stepped outside and Naina could only hear snippets of what she was saying to the person on the line. ‘Baby. I’m not in the mood to party today. You go alone na. But why? Okay I’ll come. But this time we’re not doing what we did last time. Kyonki bruises ho gaye! Haha. Chal theek hai!’

As Pinky came back in Naina thought she was looking a little flustered. ‘Are you alright?’ she asked Pinky. ‘Is everything okay?’

‘Chod na.’ Pinky shook her head. ‘
You
tell me. What’s happening with you? Writing a new cookbook? Flying off to new places?’

Naina knew that Pinky would tell her what the problem was when it was time. She didn’t want to pry into her friend’s life. She said, ‘I am so bored. I can’t think of any new recipes to write. I have no new batch of cooking students. And as usual my kids find me tedious.’

‘Where is the husband? Shouldn’t he be taking care of you?’

Naina shrugged her shoulders. ‘Nahin. Apparently if he doesn’t put in a certain number of hours at the law firm, they’ll get very upset.’

Pinky threw up her hands. ‘Men and their jobs. It’s as if we need all their money. Maybe if they worked less and spent more time with us, we’d be happier housewives huh?’

‘Maybe we wouldn’t need to work.’

‘I think we work because we love it. I love my parlour. I’ve made so many friends since I opened this parlour five years ago. It kept me sane through my post-partum depression. I could come here to get away from the children, get away from my in-laws.’

Naina laughed out loud. ‘They’re that much of a pain?’

Pinky laughed too, ‘No I didn’t mean it like that. It’s great living with my in-laws. They help with the children. But sometimes I need my own space. I love being a mother. Chintu, Bittoo and Guddi are growing up so fast. I think I want another one now.’

Naina almost choked on her tea. Pinky laughed. ‘I’m kidding! I already have three. And since the twins were born I never lost any of that weight. Though Sunny doesn’t seem to be complaining,’ she winked. It was so easy talking to Pinky. She could go on about her life, her opinions and chat away without boring you.

‘Tell me about your new cookbook or class?’ she asked Naina.

‘Oh I have nothing right now. It’s a vicious cycle. When I have a batch of people, it motivates me to try new things and then I come up with new recipes and then I feel like writing and cooking more. And when I don’t, I don’t feel like cooking new dishes. I can’t eat all that. I’ll have to run a marathon every morning to burn it off.’

‘Well I know one person who wanted to get private classes. He can’t join a group because he has limited time. But he’s a bachelor and head of this big event management company. He wanted to learn how to cook.’

Naina looked mildly interested. ‘Will he come to my house?’

Pinky shrugged her shoulders. ‘I don’t know. You can ask him. I can give him your number if you like.’

Naina was uncertain. ‘Okay I guess there’s no harm in calling.’

‘Of course. And he will pay you well. You can buy yourself a new car!’

‘That much he’ll pay or what?’ Naina asked with a smile.

‘Pooch toh lo. Ultimately everything in life is about having fun. Pushing your boundaries. Discovering more from life. Maybe he could be that new aspect that could help with your cookbook na?’

‘Yes but where does he stay? Is it safe?’ Naina asked.

Pinky put a hand to her heart and let her jaw drop open. ‘Would I even recommend it if it wasn’t safe? What kind of a question is that? He’s the sweetest, most innocent man you’ll meet. He has a lovely, large farmhouse in Mehrauli and another place here close by somewhere. His name is Arjun.’

‘Doesn’t he have a cook?’

‘You’ll have to ask him. All I know is he’s been wanting to learn how to cook.’

Naina pondered while Pinky attended to her customers. Naina could see she was going to get busy. She picked up her bag and whispered to Pinky, ‘I’m going.’

Pinky raised her eyebrows as if to ask what Naina had concluded about their conversation.

‘Okay, give him my number.’

Pinky smiled, ‘And you can charge him vada vada paisa. Bohat loaded hai.’

Naina smiled. The thought of earning always cheered her up. Maybe she needed that drive again. It was time to start feeling independent. She needed to find the balance between home and career. Maybe this could help her.

‘Hi, I’m Naina. I’m here to see Arjun.’

Naina had reached her new client, Arjun’s home. The maid allowed her to enter and led her to the living room from where she could see most of the house. It was a large apartment in Hauz Khas. It had large paintings on the walls, dark wooden floors, soft comfortable white couches in the living room, a gigantic TV on a clean wall in the drawing room and a brick wall effect around a bar that was in a corner in the balcony, which overlooked a vast expanse of greenery all around. It had beautiful modern floor lamps and an open kitchen with an island. Similar to the one that they showed in magazines with a marble counter in the middle of the kitchen which was open on all sides to walk around, with bar stool chairs on one side. The kitchen had white wooden cabinets with light wooden flooring and black and white paintings around. Clearly this man was into art. He had refined taste. He was rich and unmarried. On one of the cabinet counters she saw photos of him with a young girl. His daughter?

Naina walked around the open living, dining and drawing room areas. The space was huge and breathtaking. A maid came and gave her a glass of water and asked her if she wanted some coffee or tea to which she replied, no.

A tall, dark figure stepped out from the shadows. Arjun came out from a corridor, wearing a designer yellow shirt and dark navy-blue jeans. His salt-and-pepper hair was wet as if he had just stepped out of the shower. Drops of moisture clung to his damp forehead. He was well built, with mahogany skin and dark piercing brown eyes. He was devilishly handsome with an innately captivating presence.

‘I’m sorry to have kept you waiting, Naina,’ Arjun said as he extended his hand towards her, keeping a safe distance and not making her feel uncomfortable. The magnetism of his smile captivated Naina. His hands were beautiful, long fingered, and strong; his voice, deep and raspy. His Gio Armani aftershave settled around his aura as he showed her to a couch. ‘Thank you so much for coming over. I didn’t want to take classes in someone else’s house. I wanted to get more familiar with my own kitchen.’

‘No problem,’ Naina replied. ‘Tell me what you know? So that I can gauge where we should start from.’ He told her about how little he cooked and since his doctor had told him to start eating a more healthy diet, perhaps with a sprinkling of Mediterranean cuisine here and there, he had decided to start making his food himself. All his Indian cooks apparently put too much oil in their food and could cook only Indian food. He had tried ordering in from restaurants and hiring a foreign chef but eventually all the food that was made got wasted as he didn’t eat that much in a day. He could make rice and boil eggs, he said, almost too proudly. She laughed. He smiled at Naina. She was bewitching. Such natural beauty.

She got up and kept her bag on her shoulders. She wanted to get to work and not be distracted by this handsome gentleman whose smile alone was captivating.

‘If you’re not in a hurry, can I offer you a cup of coffee? I make great coffee. And only coffee. No food!’ He laughed as he moved towards the kitchen and showed her the way with his hand.

‘I wouldn’t mind a cup of coffee, Sir.’

‘Oh God now you are making me feel really old. You know I’m only 40-something. I know you’re 18 but please don’t call me Sir. Just Arjun.’

‘You’re a flatterer. I couldn’t be 18.’ She gave him a smile.

Arjun reached for the coffee pot that had been brewing for some time and poured two cups for them. He took out some milk from the fridge and put it in the microwave to warm. ‘I know I’m not supposed to ask a woman her age. So let me ask you how many years have you been cooking. And giving classes?’

Naina sat down on the bench opposite the kitchen island, placing her bag next to her. ‘I’ve been cooking since I was a little girl but taking classes only for the last few years. Before that I was a chef at the Four Seasons in London.’

‘Oh amazing. I can’t wait to learn all those dishes from you, Madam.’

‘Oh please! Call me Naina. I’m not 45!’ She felt at ease.

Arjun gave her a cup of coffee as he leaned in with his own. ‘Cheers to that!’

‘I love your kitchen. Did your wife design it?’ Naina asked, fishing for Arjun to tell him he was unmarried, just as Pinky had told her. She looked around at the quality of the wooden flooring, white cupboards and red tulips sitting on a glass vase at the counter. Dark black marble on counters gives an edgy, modern contrast and still a wonderful feel.

‘Oh God don’t I look happy to you?’ he said. ‘I’m not married. Was. Got out. Went into another relationship. Almost got married again. Ran away! She got married to someone she found on the internet. I chose to work instead. I’m marriage-phobic, I guess. That’s my life story.’ He spoke with an easy and charming demeanour.

‘Pinky told me you were into event management.’ Naina sipped on her single origin Brazilian coffee; it was exquisite.

‘Yes. I was in a TV channel as their head of Programming for a long time. Then I wanted to do something more dramatic with my life.’ He laughed at his own joke. ‘Now I want to learn how to cook and maybe start a chain of restaurants.’

‘Really? I’ve always wanted to run a restaurant.’ Naina realized she had just revealed her biggest dream to a complete stranger. If she had the support of her husband she would have done more. But her kids had been too small and she couldn’t leave them alone. It had been a huge conflict. She didn’t want to relive the past anymore.

‘How amazing!’ Arjun was completely taken in by this woman. She was gorgeous, warm, obviously smart and motivated. Yet something was missing and he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. He felt he needed to protect her. A tiny voice inside him was exasperated with his presumptuousness. ‘Let it go, Arjun. Remember what happened with K? Just let her teach you how to cook, at least for now?’

‘Shall we get started?’ Arjun asked as he tidied up his cup in the sink.

Naina took out two aprons from her bag. ‘Put this on first. We don’t want our clothes getting dirty.’

She washed her hands and started asking him questions to familiarize herself with the kitchen setup, the pantry, and the utensils. ‘So you have someone who can prepare ingredients for you,’ she began. ‘But what I’m going to do is set a menu each day for us to learn. So you can cook a variety of dishes by the end of our six weeks. This will include a starter or a soup, a main course and a dessert. I’ll also teach you how to chop ingredients properly, and how to cook the vegetables so that the flavours and nutrients remain.’ She paused. ‘Does that sound fine?’

‘Yes, certainly.’

‘Can you show me your fridge and what you’ve got in there?’

They started walking to the fridge.

‘I’ll make a list of things you will need to purchase for our next sessions as well. Ordinarily I have all this at home but since you wanted the lessons in your own kitchen, I’ll need all these condiments here.’

Arjun nodded in agreement. ‘I’m quite anti-social, you can say. And since I’ll be cooking in my own house, I wanted to get familiar with my own kitchen instead of leaving it like a beautiful museum piece that everyone admires but never uses. That’s why I wanted you to come here instead. I’ll pay you double your normal rate.’

They discussed money and settled on an amount that made Naina’s heart do a little jump. Maybe she could take a vacation on her own to London. She would have enough money saved from this gig alone to take a break and visit her old friends.

The first session was Italian, as Arjun claimed to be a huge fan. Naina decided she would begin with the simplest penne arrabiatta.

‘No, no don’t chop up the tomatoes just yet. First blanch them.’ She moved around the kitchen with flair. He watched her, admiring her confidence, her body moving gracefully as if she was dancing. Her fingers fluttering around chopping, stirring, pouring. He realized he was finding it all erotic. He watched, he learned, he made notes in a diary she gave him. She forced him to take notes. She laughed when he dropped an entire batch of prepped ingredients on the floor and they had to start all over again. It would take longer for this student to learn, she reckoned, but she wasn’t upset. She stopped once to call her mother to check if her kids were okay. He noticed her from the corner of his eye. She seemed like a concerned mother besides being a good chef.

Only when they finally sat down to eat the meal they had just prepared did he realize how astonishing it was that he could have made it. Above all else, Naina was a great teacher, he thought.

‘This is amazing!’ He took mouthfuls from his plate. ‘You are such an amazing cook.’

‘No, you are. You did the work.’

‘I don’t think I’m paying you enough!’

She laughed. ‘It’s more than enough. Let’s dig in? Bon appetit!’

‘Would you like some wine? This meal would be great with a bottle of fine red wine.’

Naina looked at her watch. ‘I have to go back to my kids so I don’t want to drink. I’m driving.’

Arjun nodded, acutely reminded that this wasn’t a date. It was a business transaction. He was so glad that Pinky had recommended these classes to him. Naina hadn’t asked how he knew Pinky yet and he hadn’t offered to tell. Some things were better left unsaid.

He asked Naina about her Masterchef experience and though he was pleased to hear her describe her life with ease, he also felt that there was something she wasn’t saying. There was meaning between her lines.

She spoke fondly of her husband, told him that Kaushik was a lawyer and even said, ‘You must go to him if you need any legal advice.’ She wanted to make Arjun believe that she was in a stable marriage.

She loved her children, the mixture of Bengali and Punjabi roots they had. Her eyes brightened as she spoke about food and her face fell when she told him about how she now had to keep a personal trainer to keep the kilos away. She was vibrant and beautiful. Arjun was smitten. He made her some more coffee and asked her some more questions.

That afternoon, Naina talked and talked some more. It was as if a dam had burst and she had got a friendly, non-judgemental, male ear to listen to her stories. Sometimes a woman just needs to talk about her life, gloat about her accomplishments, have someone appreciate the mundaneness in her choices and regale in her beauty. She felt like Arjun did all that, making the appropriate gestures to make her feel comfortable, asking her apt questions to let her talk freely and yet not being creepy or too probing.

When Arjun saw her to the door, he said, ‘Can you wait for a minute?’ He ran to his room.

He came back with a cheque for the entire amount of the classes. She saw what it was and said, ‘But you need to give this to me at the end of the course. You only need to give me the signing amount right now.’

He shook his head. ‘What difference does it make? Now or later? I’ll forget later. Better now.’

Naina paused. ‘What if I run away with all this money?’

Arjun smiled impishly. ‘Then I would have learned how to make an amazing penne and clear soup and it would have been well worth all that money.’

Naina smiled. She liked him. There was something about him that was nice. He wasn’t lecherous like some men with lots of money and power. He was warm and comforting, like her ‘paasher baalish’, the pillow she held on to at night near her chest.

‘Our next class is on Saturday,’ Naina said as she left. Arjun showed her to the door and made sure that she was inside her car before he closed his door.

Naina looked at the cheque when she got home. This was far more than what she earned with four people in her class for six weeks. And it was easy. He was willing to learn and didn’t do such a bad job either. She was feeling excited again about cooking and teaching.