The Promise (3 page)

'What else is there left to try? You've tried literally everything. Remember that flower shop you started?'

'Ah, yes. I still miss the smell of fresh lilies.'

'Of course-you loved that smell and the beautiful arrangements so much that you refused to sell half of the flowers. That's your idea of business?'

'That's my idea of passion. Besides, you've never been surrounded with flowers for days in a row. You'll never understand how much a part of my life they had become. How could I just let them go? And just to fill my pockets?' Shambhavi reasoned. There was a nostalgic expression on her face; it was clear that she was remembering the good times she had spent with her beloved flowers. And frankly, the starry-eyed expression made her look a bit loony.

'You are insane. You-'

'And you are too sane. That's your problem. Try to live, man! Just enjoy today, without a worry about tomorrow. Work is not everything.'

'Oh yes? Is that why you have been so busy with work the whole week that you didn't have time to call me even once?' Mili asked.

'But my case is different. My work is fun.'

'Not what you were saying just minutes ago.'

Shambhavi opened her mouth to protest, but closed it again. She nodded slowly. 'I just need a little breathing space. It's been too hectic recently.'

'I understand. It's not as if you're the first person who struggles with work. I did too, when I first joined the magazine. But it has been almost a month and I have settled in well,' Mili preached.

Mili had been after Shambhavi ever since graduation to get her to be serious about life and settle into something. She was the happiest when Shambhavi returned to interior designing after a whole year of fooling around. Since then, Mili had made it her life's agenda to keep Shambhavi from quitting it and going back to her haphazard lifestyle. It had been difficult in the beginning, with Shambhavi trying to give up at every turn. But after a while, she needed less prodding. Shambhavi had become oddly serious about her 'career' (if Mili dared call it that), and worked with unmatched intensity, as if there was an invisible force guiding her. It had been a long time since Mili had heard her complain.

'Hmm. I'm trying,' Shambhavi murmured. There was worry etched on her forehead. Mili's brows furrowed as she studied her best friend. She knew there was something going on with her; she had dark circles under her eyes and looked tensed and fatigued. In fact, it wasn't the first time she was noticing that. But before she could ask, Vikaas turned to Shambhavi.

'Isn't Mili staying over at your place tonight?' Vikaas asked Shambhavi. It seemed like the guys had had enough talk about the stock market and politics.

'What? Ah-right. Yes, she'll stay with me for the night,' Shambhavi replied.

'Cool. I'll drop the girls off at Shambhavi's place and be on my way,' he said, turning to the rest of the group.

They said their goodbyes and Shambhavi smiled sweetly at them all. She had never had much contact with either Vikaas or Mili's friends' circle. If anything, she thought that the guys were too nerdy and the girls too dumb. But she kept her opinion to herself and stayed polite, as sternly instructed by Mili.

'Join me to the Ladies' Room?' Mili turned to Shambhavi.

'Sure.' They asked Vikaas to meet them outside the restaurant and excused themselves. As soon as they closed the washroom door behind them, Mili's eyes brimmed with tears. Shambhavi was baffled. 'What's wrong? Hey, don't cry. Tell me-what happened?'

'I ... Vikaas ...'

'Relax, Mili. It's all right. It is a matter of just a year. He'll come back; he loves you. There's nothing to worry about.'

'I just ... I had this bad dream ...' Mili tried to say something, but failed terribly. Her whole body shook with tears and she kept sniffing. She hid her face in Shambhavi's shoulder and cried. After what seemed like a really long time, she stopped crying enough to explain. 'I had a dream last night-a nightmare. In my dream, Vikaas said that since we will be away anyway, we should take this time off-like a break-to reconsider things and how we feel. He wanted to leave me...'

'No, Mili. Firstly, it was just a stupid dream. And secondly, I know Vikaas, and I know that he loves you like crazy. He might not show it, but I know.'

'How?'

'He's ... he's happy whenever you are around. It just feels right,' Shambhavi said.

'But that doesn't-'

'Yes, it does. Now, will you just stop crying and wash your face? He's waiting outside.'

'I'm just scared that he will find someone better ...' Mili whispered.

'He will not. Not only is he not that kind of a man, but there's no one else better than you out there. You're the sweetest, and he adores you. Now let's go.'

When they met Vikaas outside the restaurant, Mili was back to her normal self. Vikaas offered to drop Shambhavi to her place, but she refused. She wanted the two lovebirds to spend every moment together. Also, it was just 8 pm and if she was really quick, she could catch up with the dealer her client had recommended.

She hailed an auto and got into it, sighing with relief. She knew Mili had noticed something off with her. It was a good thing that they had been surrounded by too many people to allow unwanted interrogation. She plastered a fake smile on her face like she was used to doing and instructed herself to be more careful from then onwards. She could not let her guard slip, lest anyone saw what was really going on ...

Sometimes, it is not so much about the things that we say, as it is about the things we do not. For those who try to listen, silence speaks louder than words.

t first, she thought she had imagined the sound that woke her up. But then it happened again. She blinked and got half up on her bed, turning on the bedside lamp as she did so. She thought maybe it was the thirst that woke her up; June 2010 was one of the hottest summers Indore had seen. It took her a moment to realize that it was not the thirst, it was a noise-a wail. An old man's wail, coming from the adjoining room. Dad.

Shambhavi jumped out of her bed and rushed to his room. She flung the door open and fumbled with the switchboard to turn on the light. Her father was sitting up on his bed, groaning. He seemed to be in agony and she ran to his side.

'What's wrong? Dad, where does it hurt?' she asked.

Her father kept groaning.

'Do you need to see a doctor? Are you feeling strong enough to come with me to the hospital? Can you hold on till that long?' she shot a flurry of questions at him. It was not a time to panic, but she could not help herself from doing so. Her mind started working overtime as she started coming up with ways to solve the problem at hand.

He shook his head and let out a yowl.

'Do you need water? Where are your pain meds?' she inquired and poured out water from the jug into a glass.

'I ... don't ...' Mr Sen tried to say something but did not seem to be able to put words together.

'Where did you keep them? Don't you remember? Please, at least try to ...' she paused what she was saying when she saw the look on his face. He seemed to be in more pain than she had first thought. 'I'm calling an ambulance.'

'I'm never going to forgive you. You know that, right?' Shambhavi asked, hands on her hips, staring down angrily at her bedridden father, in his hospital ward.

'Why? What did I do?' he asked, with his best innocent-look on.

'You don't know what you did? What about that little stunt you pulled last night?'

'I didn't do that. It happened to me. Can't you see-I'm the victim here?'

'Cut it out, Dad. I know you were seeking attention from me. You could've just said so, you know? You didn't have to make me drag you to the hospital.' Shambhavi pouted and sat next to him on the bed.

'What can I say? I was desperate. My precious little daughter was so busy with work, she ignored me all month,' he smiled.

'Week, not month. And I was seriously busy with work.'

'That's what I said.'

'Whatever. You keep continuing your drama, and one of these days, I'm going to get you a private room at the hospital. Then I will be able to live my life in peace,' she threatened.

'Hasn't that been your lifelong dream?'

'Hmm,' Shambhavi said and got lost in her thoughts. In the panic of the previous night, she forgot that she had a meeting at the factory that dealer she met had referred her to. Her client would not be happy.

While Shambhavi wore a worried expression and her brain got to work, trying to find a way of rearranging the meeting, her father studied her. She had never been so serious about work and life, in general. Recently, she had been too driven to get everything in place. There was an invisible power pushing her every second.

'So, what's going on with work?' Mr Sen decided to prod.

'Huh?' Shambhavi came out of her trance.

'Work. Weren't you decorating a rich man's new mansion?'

'I was, till yesterday. I'm sure he's going to fire me if I don't deliver even today ...'

'Fire you? That bad, eh?' her father asked.

'Pretty bad. It's not him; it's his wife. The woman just doesn't like anything I show her. I have shown her the catalogues from every single furniture manufacturer and seller in the city. Imported, she won't accept. She doesn't like the pieces some freelancers from around the area had sent over. God knows what she wants.'

'Get her something custom made. These big people-they just want to have everything unique. Give her something no one else has.'

'It's easy to say. I have tracked down some local carpenters, but their work isn't that neat. Those who deliver decent results, take months to develop designs into the final product,' she complained.

'And who's designing these pieces for you?' Mr Sen asked.

'I am.'

'Oh, so this is going to be permanent-interior designing?'

'Yeah, I presume. As permanent a career option as anything can be with me. This is my ... thirteenth project, I guess. And I'm having fun with it. Plus it has a decent pay packet. Thank God I did that first stint at the Vermas' place,' Shambhavi mused. The Vermas were a reputed, rich family in the city and their son, Nakul, was friends with Shambhavi. When they were renovating their townhouse, Nakul was against everything their designer suggested. He did not have a problem with that designer doing anything with the rest of the house; he just didn't want her interfering in his space. So when he heard that Shambhavi was interested in interior designing, he offered her the job to furnish his personal suitea living area, a bedroom, a study, a walk-in closet and a huge washroom-and she grabbed it. He hated his decorator with a passion. 'Anything would be better that that crazy woman's rich and sophisticated choices. Please, do anything with the room ... just don't pick anything elegant and tasteful. That designer mom hired is a lunatic.'