Changing Shades 10

Leaving her completely and absolutely stupefied, and for once, totally bereft of words, he disappeared.

Aditya drove home, his brain reeling. He had picked up the phone by a genuine mistake. He hadn't heard the ring – it was never directly transmitted to him in his office, but always went to Anjali's desk first. He just hadn't noticed the green light when he punched the button for a line, and had inadvertently found himself eavesdropping on a conversation he was definitely not supposed to overhear. His first instinct had been to cut the line – but something in the caller's voice, and Mansi's hushed, almost scared tones had stopped him from doing so, and he found himself listening. He didn't hear all the conversation, only the latter half, but it was enough. Enough to make him realise that something was terribly, terribly wrong. That Mansi's life was not the ideal holiday he had assumed it to be, and had found pleasure in savagely punishing with his cruel taunts.

He had known – oh, of course he had known that she was not happy at work, but naively, egotistically, he had assumed her discomfort to be due to his presence there, and to her own guilt at having turned him down so many years ago, a tacit admission that he was right about his reasons for her marrying Manish. He had been blind, blind to her feelings, except with regard to his own, his unrequited love had turned into an almost blind hatred, an unbearable jealousy of Manish; every time he visualized them together, a red cloud obscured his thinking, and he couldn’t look beyond that, couldn’t imagine that she could have other troubles than the ones he had found pleasure in giving her at the office.

He cursed himself for his blindness, his selfishness, his ego. As he drove home, he remembered again and again, the ever-present worry and tension in her face, the dark circles under her eyes, the strain in her voice, her posture…everything he had never noticed in her presence came back to haunt him on that short ride home.

He reached home, and made a few quick calls, one to his travel agent, one to a hotel in Kathmandu, and then one to a special contact, a man who owed him a few favours.

Mansi stretched tiredly as the plane touched down, completely exhausted. She wanted nothing more than to get to the nearest bed, and sleep, preferably for ever, she thought, with a grimace. She had barely slept at night what with the tension of anticipation, and had been up early packing and mentally preparing herself for what she might find waiting for her in Kathmandu. Then the wait for the flight, which had, of course, been delayed, and finally the touchdown in a strange town, where she knew no one, except the person who was supposedly waiting for her. The next few hours promised to be the most traumatic ones in her life, she thought and she braced herself mentally as she left the plane and looked around for the man who had promised to be there.

The man was waiting for her, as he had promised. He was a small, thin Nepalese, with a tired, but kind face, and he smiled at her as she approached him.

“Mansi Dewan?” he asked, and when she nodded, he took her case, and led her out.

“I'm sorry to rush you like this, but we really haven't much time,” he said. “I was so afraid I wouldn't be able to find you in time. You don't know how many Dewans there are in Bombay!”

“Where are we going?” asked Mansi, as he ushered her into a waiting car. Neither of them noticed a man in a long overcoat and cap pulled over his eyes following them, nor did they see the car that he got into immediately behind them, which promptly pulled away from the kerb, and followed them into the traffic.

“To the hospital,” replied the other, and held out his hand to her for the first time. “I'm Raj Bahadur, by the way. Pratibha, my sister has told me about you. You don't know her, but she knows you very well. She…she…” he stopped, and looked away. To her horror, Mansi saw a tear roll down his cheek. He looked back at her.

“I'm sorry,” he said. “Maybe it's better she tell you herself.”

“Tell me what?” asked Mansi, completely nonplussed, but Raj Bahadur shook his head, and didn't say much more till they reached their destination.

Mansi got out wonderingly, and looked around her. It was early evening now, and getting dark, but the hospital was well lit, and she could see that it was not very large, but scrupulously clean. Raj Bahadur led the way in, and up the stairs into a landing, where a young girl was waiting anxiously. As they came up, she looked at them eagerly, and Mansi saw that she was very pretty, but very, very thin, almost as though something had eaten her away, to the point of emaciation. She was also, Mansi realised immediately, very sick. She made no attempt to get up from her wheelchair, and her arm, where it lay on the arm of the chair, had tubes running into it.

“Mansi?” said the girl, hesitantly, and Mansi nodded, and came over to her. The girl shrank back.

“No! Don't touch me! Please!”

Mansi looked at her, then back at Raj Bahadur helplessly. “Why? Will one of you please tell me what's going on? What's the matter? And where is Manish? You called me all the way here at a moment's notice for him – where is he? And who are you?”

The girl looked at her helplessly.

“Please, Mansi, Please sit down. I have to tell you everything, and there's not much time. Not for him, anyway. I'm Pratibha.”

“That doesn't tell me anything,” said Mansi, evenly. Pratibha looked at her miserably.

“Manish and I were married about eight months ago,” she said, softly, watching Mansi's face.

Mansi went blank.

She looked at the girl in front of her, her brain in total shock. She tried to speak, but no words came. Her head whirled, and she actually felt giddy for a moment. She put out a hand to steady herself, oblivious of the worried glances of the brother and sister looking at her.

“Married?” she whispered. “Married you…eight months… married?”

Then, with a supreme effort, she collected her scattered wits slowly. She looked at both of them, her face still mirroring her shock, and Raj Bahadur rushed to get her a glass of water. Pratibha looked at her anxiously.

“I'm sorry,” she said, weakly, and Mansi could see the physical effort it took for the girl to speak, her voice coming in short breaths. “He told me he didn't love you, that you didn't love him, had never loved him. I still would not have married him, it was enough for me to just live with him. He didn't want to go back, you know. But when I became pregnant, he insisted we get married. He wanted his child to have his name, and later, when we both became sick, we knew we had to. We didn't know whether the child would survive, whether I would survive, but we knew he would not. And Raj can't look after a child. His only hope was you.”

“Wait,” said Mansi, slowly, painfully. “Tell me the whole story from the start.”

So Pratibha told her. It was a pathetic story, and a short one. Manish had met Pratibha at one of the hangouts for young drug addicts. They both were on drugs, they both enjoyed each other's company, and they found living together, a natural solution. Manish wired his parents for money – the last letter they had received, after which they had sold their business, and moved to Bombay. He kept wiring them for more money, not knowing that his letters went unopened. He never believed their threats, never believed that they would not, and could not, give him any more. But within a couple of months of being with Pratibha, Manish discovered he had AIDS.

Mansi gasped. Pratibha looked at her squarely.

“I didn't leave him. How could I? He had nobody. His parents were not answering his letters, neither were you. So I stayed with him, looked after him. Then I discovered I was pregnant. I just didn't know what to do. I didn't want the baby to be sick. So I went back to my brother. Manish followed me, and insisted I marry him. He said I needn't stay with him, but if we got married here, in Nepal, at least the baby would be registered as his, under his name. It would be legitimate. We were both hoping the baby would be all right. He even promised to give up drugs, if the baby was okay. He wanted me to stay away till the baby arrived, then test it to check. I agreed. He had already told me about his marriage to you, about his father, and how scared he was of him, everything. So we got married, and I stayed with Raj. Till the next bombshell.”

She looked at Mansi again.

“I got TB. I could take some of the medicines, but not all, because of the baby, and TB here in Nepal is drug-resistant – my infection hasn’t been responding to much. We didn’t know whether I would get better or not. We were both shell shocked – we didn't know what to do. For a while we thought of aborting the baby – what was the use of bringing it into this world, when both parents might be dead before long? But while I was pregnant, without my knowledge, Manish started trying to track you down. He thought his parents would have nothing to do with the baby, but he thought…he hoped that you might. He sent Raj, as he was already unable to travel. Raj, bless him, went all the way to Delhi to look for you. He didn’t find you, of course, the people at the house had no idea where you were. With great difficulty, he traced your lawyer, then found you had moved to Bombay. By that time, Manish was in such a state that he couldn't give any names of anybody you might know in Bombay. So Raj started calling up all the Dewans in the phone book one by one. That's how he found you. We had to find you. You were our only hope.”

Mansi swallowed. “Where…where is Manish now?” she asked, almost in a whisper. Raj got up.

“I'll take you to him,” he said. “But be prepared. He will not know you.”

Mansi smiled bitterly.

“He’ll know me,” she said flatly. “He knows me better than I did myself.”

She followed Raj into the small hospital room. And saw her husband for the first time in two years.

She hardly recognized him. He lay, frail and thin, under the covers, an emaciated hand peeping out from the sheet, into which a clear plastic tube dripped fluids. His eyes were closed, and he breathed heavily and noisily. Wires ran from his chest electrodes up to the shelf behind his bed, where the heart and blood pressure monitors bleeped their warnings, and an irregular green tracing paced repetitively across the screen.

He was sleeping. Or was he? The nurse, dressed in protective clothing, gloves, and a mask, looked up at them, and bent back to her work of adjusting the drip rate.

“Visitors? Now? Visiting hours are over.”

“She's just got in from Bombay,” explained Raj Bahadur. The nurse looked at her.

“You may be too late,” she said, not unkindly. “He's been like this for the last couple of weeks. He drifts in and out, but it's not so frequent now.”

“What's happening to him?” asked Mansi, and then felt foolish for asking. The nurse looked at her consideringly.

“You know he has AIDS?” As Mansi nodded, she went on.

“Well, that means his immune system is knocked out. So he's prone to getting bugs which would not bother normal people. Also some cancers. He's got a tumour in the brain, which is making him unconscious from time to time. Now and then we manage to bring down the pressure on his brain, and he becomes lucid. Then he goes off again. He's got a skin cancer. He's got fungus all over his intestines, and that is not responding to any treatment. Then one of his lungs also has a fungus, a different one. What we're worried about, is that the fungus in the lungs may have infected his heart.”

Mansi sat down. It was too much for her. Pratibha wheeled herself in and looked at her. She made as if to say something, then a sound from the bed stopped them both. They whirled around to the bed.

Manish had opened his eyes, and was staring vacantly around.

Pratibha wheeled her chair to his side, and took his hand. “Manish,” she said, softly. “I'm here. I'm here. Can you hear me?”

The hand in hers twitched, then his gaze seemed to become more focussed. He looked at her.

“Pratibha,” his voice was slurred, laborious.

“Did you find them? Did you find ma and baba?”

Pratibha held his hand tightly.

“Manish?” she spoke clearly, slowly. “Can you hear me? Yes, I did find them. I found Mansi, Manish. I found Mansi. She's here. Can you see her?”

Mansi moved so that Manish could see her directly. She felt numb, incapable of speech. Manish turned slightly, and gazed at her vacantly. Then his eyes seemed to focus, and she saw them light with recognition. He struggled for speech.

“Mansi? It's really you?”

She nodded. It was all she was capable of doing.

He spoke again, slowly, with effort, and she could see the pain and the concentration it took for him to stay there, to orient himself.

“How long has it been? Years? Mansi, I'm sorry.”

Changing Shades 9

Anjali looked up, her expression mirroring her shock.

“Mansi! What happened?”

“I've had it,” said Mansi, stuffing her drawings and plans into her briefcase with trembling hands. “I can't work here any more. He wanted to break me, well, he finally has. I'm going to my hostel. If he asks for me, tell him he'll have my resignation in the morning.”

“Mansi, you can't do that! What will you do? The bills…”

“Damn the bills!” said Mansi explosively. “As you said, they're not my concern anyway. I'll starve if I have to, but I cannot work with him anymore. Let him find another slave to work all the god-awful hours he expects and put up with the abuse also. I refuse to keep apologizing for what happened four years ago. I've paid for it enough, I don't have to pay any more, and not to him!”

She laid her briefcase on the table, her hands still shaking. In her mind, she heard her voice … ‘Manish knew everything,’ … she saw again the look on her husband’s face as he faced her on their wedding night with his knowledge of her love … and his contorted, twisted sense of triumph … when her personal journey into hell had started.

Anjali was aghast. She had never seen Mansi in this state. She came up to the other girl and put her arms around her.
“Mansi, what happened? What did he say? Mansi, calm down, for god's sake. You can't go home like this!”

“I'm going,” Mansi said, more calmly. She looked at Anjali in something akin to despair, her voice husky with unshed tears as she spoke.

“You see, Angel, the problem is that he doesn't know I would have given my right arm to be free to love him all those years ago. And I still would. But I’m not free – my life’s not my own – and it never has been. Anyway, forget it. He is not going to forgive me, and I can't make him understand. He doesn't want to understand. So the best thing is that I don't work here anymore. He's won. He wanted to break me, to drive me out of here – well, he has. Tell him I'll send the plans with the revisions in the morning, with my resignation.”

She picked up her bag, and made to move to the door. Anjali watched her helplessly.

Just then, the phone rang, startling them both.

“Who could it be, at this time of evening?” muttered Anjali, as she rushed to get it.

“Maybe the boss, saying he's had a heart attack?” asked Mansi half-jokingly, then she continued … “oh, can’t be – he doesn’t have a heart.” They both smiled wanly. Anjali picked up the phone.

“Suri Constructions, good evening. Can I help you?” she said, schooling her face into a solemn expression, then her face changed. “Just a moment , please.”

She held out the phone to Mansi, her face serious.

“It's for you. Some guy. Says he's calling from Kathmandu.”

Mansi looked at her, her own face changing, and the color draining from it. She came hesitantly forward, and her hand shook just a little as she took the phone.

“Hello?”

She listened for a while. “Yes, I am Mansi Dewan, that's right. Yes, I am an architect. What?”

Her face still pale, Mansi listened to the caller for another minute, then her voice very low, she answered again.

“Yes, that is correct. I am. Who are you?”

She listened again, and Anjali watched, getting more and more concerned. Mansi looked as though she was talking to a ghost. Her voice almost threadlike, she spoke again.

“I'll be there as soon as I can. Can you give me a contact number or an address? I'll call you as soon as I reach, or as soon as I get organized.”

She took a pen and wrote something on the pad next to her. Then she spoke again.

“Right, I'll get my ticket done and try to be there tomorrow morning at the latest. I will call you when I get there. Thank you.”

She made to put down the phone, then quickly spoke again.

“Just a minute. What is your name, and does he know you are calling me?”

She listened again, then put the phone down with a brief word. She turned to Anjali.

“Anjali, you'll have to cover my back from Aditya. Maybe for a day or two, I don't know how long. Can you do it?”

“Of course,” said Anjali, instantly. “You don't have to ask.”

Mansi nodded, and picked up the phone again, calling their travel agency. She quickly booked a single ticket to Kathmandu, and putting down the phone, looked at her watch.

“I don't have much time,” she muttered. “I'd better leave right away.”

Anjali looked at her.

“What's this all about?” she asked directly. “Or would you rather not say anything?”

Mansi smiled, but there was strain in her smile. She said one word.

“Manish.”

“He's there? In Kathmandu?”

Mansi nodded. “Seems to be. How they traced me, I don't know. I'll find out soon enough. Anjali, if Aditya comes comes, please make some excuse for me. I may need a couple of days, there seems to be some major problem.”

“Are you going to tell your in-laws?” Anjali asked. Mansi shook her head.

‘No, I don't know if this is a wild goose chase. I'll go to the nursing home, break my fast, and then go home. The flight is early morning. I don't want to raise their hopes, if there is a mistake. Let me find out first. I'll come back and tell them.’

“And Aditya?” Anjali asked quietly. Mansi looked at her helplessly, then she did something she had never done before. She came into Anjali's arms, rested her head on the other girl's shoulder, closed her eyes and held her tight.

“I need him,” she whispered, so softly, that Anjali barely heard her. “Oh, God, how I need my Adi …”

Neither of them noticed Aditya standing just outside the room, in the corridor, watching them, nor did they notice as he stepped quietly and noiselessly back.

Anjali hugged her back, her throat aching with unshed tears.

“Go,” she said, her voice suspiciously husky. “I'll handle Aditya.”

Mansi nodded and stepped back.

“What will you tell him?” she asked, as she got her things together rapidly. Anjali looked at her a little wickedly, wanting to lighten her mood.

‘I'll tell him you're pregnant and having morning sickness,’ she said happily, and Mansi looked at her for a horrified moment, and a smile grew on her face.

“You'll do it, too, if I know you,” she grinned, “but please, I think I need to live a little longer. Could you possibly think of another excuse that won't endanger my life?”

Anjali laughed. “I'll try,” she promised. “Now, off with you.”

Mansi nodded and disappeared. Anjali sat down with a sigh, frowning, as she tried to think of what to say to Aditya.

She needn't have bothered. He walked in a couple of minutes later, whistling, as though without a care in the world, greeted her and went straight into his office. After a little while he came out, and came to Mansi's desk, casually picked up her pad, on which she had written the Kathmandu address, and tore off the paper, while Anjali watched, horrified, completely unable to say a word.

“Cat got your tongue?” he asked, casually. “What's happening around here?”

“N…nothing much,” she managed to say, watching as he glanced at the piece of paper, before crumpling it in his hand, then she breathed more easily, as he wrote something on the fresh page of the pad.

“Can you contact these people for me?” he said, handing her the paper. “I have an appointment with them tomorrow afternoon. Reschedule it for next week, will you?”

She nodded, thankfully, and waited for him to ask about Mansi. But he didn't, and she didn't notice, as she looked at the paper he had handed her, that he had put the crumpled one in his pocket. He went back into his office, and she was left wondering at his uncharacteristic behaviour.

She wasn't left to wonder long. In about half an hour, he came out of his office, closing the door. Anjali looked at him in surprise.

“You're off, Aditya?”

“Yes, I am. Cancel all my other appointments, as well, will you, Anjali? For the week.”

“Week?” she stuttered, in complete shock. “Wh…wh…where are you going?”

He leaned over her desk casually.

“Kathmandu, of course. Where else?”

Leaving her completely and absolutely stupefied, and for once, totally bereft of words, he disappeared.

Changing Shades 8

Things could not have gone on the same way for much longer, and they didn't.

But how matters would come to a head, Mansi could not have even dreamed.

Aditya came into office a few weeks later in a temper. He was early, and neither Mansi nor Anjali was in yet. He barked at Suresh, and sent him scurrying off to call the girls. When Anjali came in, he barked at her too. She answered back politely but fearlessly, and he grouched into his room.

“Send Mansi in when she comes,” he shot at her. “And you can tell her if she's late again, she can look for another job. I don't tolerate nonsense in my office.”

“She's not late, you are early,” Anjali replied, calmly. “She left at past 2 last night. The plans you need are on your desk. She left them there.”
“How do you know?” he barked, and Anjali looked at him coolly. “She called me last night to tell me,” she said, making no attempt to hide her annoyance. “She was afraid she might be late today, because she left so late, so she wanted me to wake her up in the morning.”

Aditya stared at her.

“She's got a whole army of servants to wake her up, and she wants you to call her?”

Anjali didn't reply. She got busy with her computer, and didn't look at him.

“I'll have this lot of letters and the proposal finished by the morning,” she said, briskly. “Is there anything else you need done today?”

“I'll call you when there is,” he said. “Send Mansi in when she comes.”

Anjali didn't look up till he had closed his door, then she stopped her work and gave a sigh of relief.

“Boy oh boy, you nearly blew that one, woman,” she admonished herself, and looked up with a smile, as Mansi opened the door cautiously and came in.

“Storm warning,” she said, briefly. Mansi sighed.

“I really can't take it today,” she muttered, collapsing into her chair. “I'm exhausted, and on top of that, I just got 2 hours of sleep last night. Mummy called in the morning at 5! She wanted to remind me to eat something. It's karva chauth.”

Anjali stared at her disbelievingly.
“Do you still keep it?”

“I didn't the last two years,” confessed Mansi. “It's all over, except in name, so I didn't. I don't think of him as my husband any more, anyway.”

“Then why…” began Anjali, and Mansi looked at her with a twisted smile.

“You'll tell me I'm a fool, again, and I need my head examined. Maybe I do, at that.”

Anjali whistled. “You are,” she agreed. Then she hugged the other girl. “But he’s a bigger fool! He's an idiot if he doesn't appreciate your worth. Mansi, tell him, please. Tell him about Manish.”

Mansi shook her head stubbornly and Anjali sighed defeatedly.

“I thought I told you to send Mansi in as soon as she came,” barked a voice, and both the girls jumped. Aditya was standing at the door of his office, looking decidedly grim. Mansi got up with a sigh. She gave Anjali a look of 'here we go again', and walked towards Aditya's office.

“The plans are already on your table,” she said. “I did finish them last night.”

“I think that either I'm retarded or you are,” he retorted. “I cannot understand what you have done at all. Could you be so kind as to explain what you have drawn? Where are the revisions I asked for?”

That was the beginning. Mansi was exhausted, and she answered back far more sharply than she ever had before. They had a roaring fight, and at the end of it, Aditya stomped out of his office.

“I have a meeting with this client, and I'll be back only after lunch. I want the plans done by then, with all the revisions,” he barked at her.

“You're not asking for revisions, you're asking me to do the whole lot again,” she answered back. “I can't possibly have them done by the afternoon.”

“You'd better, or you're out of this office,” he retorted, and walked out.

Mansi stared after him, almost at the end of her tether. Then she got determinedly back to work.

“He is not going to get me down, nor is he going to drive me out of this office,” she vowed to herself, as she picked up her pencils again.

She was still working when Anjali popped into the room at 6 o'clock.
“It's evening, aren't you going?” she asked Mansi. “You have to go to the nursing home today, don't you?”

“Can't leave before he comes and checks these,” said Mansi briefly, looking up. Anjali gave an exclamation.
“You're done in, Mansi. Go home and get some rest. You haven't eaten anything the whole day. You'll drop dead, the way you're going.”

“I should be so lucky,” replied Mansi, and looked over Anjali's shoulder. “The tyrant is back, Anjali. You'd better get back to your desk before he accuses us of wasting our time gossiping.”

She was at breaking point, and didn't seem to care that Aditya heard every word she said, indeed her words seemed to be aimed at him. Anjali scuttled back to her desk, and Aditya passed her to come into his room and slam the door. He looked at Mansi and it was clear her words had found their mark. If she had intended to provoke him, she had succeeded.

He came up to her and grasped her by the shoulders.

“Don't ever…” he hissed at her in a low, menacing tone “…ever talk to my staff like that.”

“Like what?” asked Mansi innocently. “Oh, you mean, don't call you a tyrant? All right, I won't. She knows it, anyway.”

She was hurting from the pressure he was applying to her shoulders, his fingers digging into her flesh, but she didn't care. Something had finally snapped in her, a combination of the last few months' tiredness, the fights, the tension, and her own exhaustion and hunger, and she felt almost lightheaded as she faced him.

“You are trying to undermine my authority with my staff,” he said furiously. “And, for the record, you are part of the staff here, so…”

“So what?” she retorted. “Are you threatening to fire me? All right, go ahead and do it. Fire me.”

She looked at him and laughed bitterly.

“No, you won't fire me, will you, Aditya? You will never fire me. It gives you too much pleasure to see me here, under your authority, obeying your orders, being completely at your mercy. Face it, Adi, you're not finding fault with my work, are you? For the last four months, you've been punishing me for what I did four years ago, and my work has nothing to do with it. And you want to continue punishing me, so…”

“You flatter yourself,” he broke in furiously. “You and I were finished four years ago, before we even started. There is nothing between us now, so don't manufacture anything, or give yourself imaginary reasons for your inadequacy.”

“My inadequacy!” she cried. “How is it that you are the only person who thinks I'm inadequate? Mr. Suri didn't think so, our clients didn't think so, only the great Aditya Khanna, who is such a brilliant architect, finds fault with my work. No, Aditya, that won't wash. Just because Manish…”

“Don't take his name!” snapped Aditya. “I don't want to hear his name. He has nothing to do with this. Keep him at home, don't bring him into my office.”

“He has everything to do with this,” retorted back Mansi. “He is the cause of all this tension between us, and he doesn't even know it.”

“I said, don't talk about him,” ground out Aditya. Mansi looked at him squarely.

“Why shouldn't I talk about him. He is my husband, he has a right to know how I'm being treated at work, and by somebody who claims to be his friend.”

“Our friendship ended when he got married,” said Aditya savagely. He came to her and grasped her by her upper arms in a grip that hurt, his eyes burning as he looked at her. “Come on, Mansi, tell me that he didn't know you loved me and I loved you. Tell me that he didn't know that there were never only the two of you in your bed. Tell me he didn't know that when you kissed him, it was my face you saw…”

“He knew everything! That was why …!” shouted Mansi. Then she clapped her hand over her mouth and stared at him. He looked back at her, stunned. His hands dropped like stone.

“He knew … everything,” she whispered, her tone anguished. She looked away from him and out of the window, and the anger, the fight went out of both of them suddenly. She looked around at him, and he stared back at her. The room seemed warmer suddenly, sparks flying between them, the tension in the air so thick that it was almost difficult to breathe. Then suddenly, she turned and picked up her plans. Without a word, she walked out of the room.

Changing Shades 7

She was still sitting there when Aditya came. He approached so quietly that she didn't hear him.

He watched her from a distance for a while, seeing the eyes gazing blindly into the distance, her expression disturbed, her body held in rigid lines showing her tension.

“Anjali said I might find you here,” he said, and she jumped, her face draining of color as she turned around to face him. His expression changed to one of concern.

“Are you all right?”

“You startled me,” she managed. “What are you doing here?”

“Inspecting the site, the same as you are,” he replied easily. “I am supposed to take over, you know. I should start my new job as soon as possible, don't you think?"

Belatedly she remembered that he was her boss now. “I'm sorry,” she said, uncomfortably. “I shouldn't have said that the way I did. You're right. It's your project now.”

“No, it isn't,” he said, and sat down beside her. “It's still yours. Mr. Suri made that very clear. Quite his little blue eyed girl, aren't you?”

She kept quiet, sensing that something was coming. She knew him too well not to recognize the hard note in his voice, underlying the casual words he had spoken.

She didn't have too long to wait. “Tell me, Mansi,” he asked, still in that casual tone. “How do you manage it?”

“Manage what?”

“You know. Manage to get all these old men wound so firmly around your little finger that they will do anything for you. Uncle gave you his son and his business, Mr. Suri is practically dying to hand over his business to you. He made it very clear when I took over, that you and your job were not to be touched, and the deal was by no means final. The firm is not mine yet, and it may never be. You have done rather well for yourself, haven't you? And to think I used to feel sorry for you! You must have laughed at me! You were perfectly able to manage things for yourself. Who needs love? You want all the good things in life, and so what if it's only old men who can give them to you. Old men don't live forever, and till they do, well, grin and bear it. Isn't that right?”

She looked at him quietly, not answering his anger, feeling his hurt. After so many years, he still carried the bitterness of their last meeting with him. She had known he would find it very difficult to forgive, but that he would be so bitter, she had not thought.

“I know why you think so badly of me, Aditya,” she managed quietly, looking away from the fire in his eyes. “But can't you at least try to understand why I did what I did? You know it wasn't like that. Do you honestly think I'm so materialistic? I don't think so, Aditya. You, of all people, know me better than that.”

“I thought I knew you,” he returned. “But obviously, I was wrong. I didn't know you at all. The girl I fell in love with, or thought I fell in love with, was not like you. She would never have done what you did. She would have had the courage to stop, not go through something her heart did not want.”

“I could not!” she cried, her heart aching for his understanding. “Can't you understand that I just could not do that? I could never have cried off at that time, even if I had wanted to. Is that what you want to hear? Do you want to hear from me that I loved you, and still married Manish? All right, I'll say it. I loved you. I married him. What does that make me? A coward? A fool? Do you think you're the only one who suffered?”

“What did you suffer?” he asked savagely. “You got a beautiful home, a rich husband, a family, security, lots of money, and doting in-laws, who would give you the world, and make sure that their son did the same. What did you suffer? No, Mansi. You didn’t love me. You were only out for what you could get. And you still are. It must have been a shock to find out that Mr. Suri was not going to hand over the company to you, lock, stock and barrel, but got me in here instead. Why did you want this company too? Are your tastes so expensive that all the money you already have, isn't enough? You want more and more?”

“What are you saying, Aditya?” she cried. “Listen to me. I have suffered, Aditya. How I suffered, you can't even begin to imagine. Don't you really want to know why I'm working here? What happened…?”

“No,” he said, cutting her off abruptly. “I don't want to know. I don't want to know anything. Don't say anything, Mansi. It's no use. What's done is done. It's over and done with. I've moved on in my life, and…" he looked at her in cold appraisal, taking in the expensive suit she was wearing, and the large earrings glinting in her ears (one about five years old, and the other artificial, if only he had known that), "…you obviously have, too. I suppose you and Manish know what you're doing for you to be working here, but it is no concern of mine.”

He stood up, and moved away. Than he looked back at her, and his eyes were cold, bleak.

“Understand one thing, Mansi. From now on, you and I are colleagues. Just that. No more. The college days are over, and we have, all of us, moved on. I don't want to know anything about your and Manish's personal life, and I don't intend to let you into mine. There's been too much between us for us even to be friends, and I will not make that pretense. We work together in the office, and that is all. Do you understand?”

“Can't I at least try to tell you, to make you understand…?” she began, but he cut her off brusquely.

“I told you, Mansi, no. There is nothing personal between us. I don't want to know. I'm not interested any more. I was in love with you once upon a time. You killed that love. Now there is nothing, absolutely nothing between us, and there can never be, again. Not even friendship. Least of all, friendship. We work together, that's all. And yes, there’s no need to tell Manish that you work for me now. In one stroke, you killed that friendship as well, and now there’s no going back. Now let's go and check the drainage that you were worried about.”

He turned and walked off rapidly down the hill, leaving her standing like a stone, staring after him. And as cold as stone was the coldness in her heart, as she watched the familiar figure stride off towards the workmen on the site.

Don't do this to me, she whispered, but it was to herself. Haven't I been punished enough? If only, she thought bleakly, if only I had at that time had the courage, the conviction in my love, to tell my uncle, Manish, his parents, that I could not go through with the wedding. If only I had had the courage to tell Aditya that yes, I do love you, I love you more than life itself, and always will. But I didn't. I thought that my duty was stronger then my love, and I've condemned myself for a lifetime. He doesn't even want to know anything, he doesn't want to talk to me, he doesn't want to know me.

Slowly she moved, her legs feeling like lead, as she walked down the hill to join him. He was talking to the contractor, his brow furrowed, and he turned his head as she came up.

“Mansi, this man says that the incline seems to be different from what is indicated in the plan. That means we may have to alter the site of the drain system. Do you have the plans with you?”

She looked at him blindly, barely hearing what he was saying. He looked at her impatiently. The confrontation of the last few minutes seemed to have been wiped out of his mind.

“Mansi, the plans, please?”

She registered what he was saying at last.

“The plans?”

“The plans for this site. The drain system. Can you understand or do I have to spell it out for you?”

“They…they're in the car,” she managed weakly, and he continued to look at her with the same impatience.

“Then can you get them, please? I need to take a look at them. How is it that this problem didn't come up before? Didn't you check the incline?”

“I'll get the plans and check,” she said, stammering, and half walked, half ran to her car to fetch them.

He looked at the papers, frowning.

“I'll have a look at these in the office,” he told the contractor. “Get back to you tomorrow. In the meantime, don't start the work on the pipes yet.”

The man nodded respectfully, and moved away to his workmen. Aditya looked at Mansi, and she winced from the ice in his eyes.

“Get back to the office,” he said. “We need to go over these. If there is a mistake, it may need a major revision, and some cost increase. You realize that, don't you?”

She nodded. She couldn't trust her voice.

“Just remember,” he continued in the same hard voice. “I do not and will not tolerate slipshod work in my office. Please be more careful in the future. Now get moving. I have my own car.”

He turned and walked off to his car, and she followed to her vehicle. She didn't have a car of her own, using the office car for all her work on site. Mr Suri had never had a problem with that. She began to think, with a sinking feeling, that Aditya just might.

There was a problem with the incline, which entailed a change in the plans. It was not major, however, and so Mansi was completely unprepared for the tongue-lashing which Aditya gave her for the mistake.

“You were a good architect in the old days,” he said, with ice in his voice. “I suppose with so many years of doing what you pleased, you've let your work slip. But this is not your company any more, and I am not here to provide you with pocket money at the expense of my clients. If you want to continue here, there are certain standards, which you will have to maintain. If you don't, you can look for another job, or just sit at home and let your husband earn for you. Might be better.”

“You don't have to make sexist remarks,” she flashed. “If you're not happy with my work, tell me that. You don't have to bring my husband into it. As for being a good architect, remember who used to fight with you for the top position in college.”

“So can I see some of that work, please?” he answered, caustically. “And we're not in college now. We're working to build real buildings for real people, and we cannot make mistakes now. Now, mistakes cost money, either the firm's or the client's. Remember that in future.”

That first clash seemed to set the tone for the weeks and months ahead. Aditya seemed to take delight in finding fault with her – only with her work. He did not make any personal remarks again. But he criticized her constantly, threw barbed remarks all the time and was always ready to make changes to her plans and schedules. Mansi's office, which had become a haven for her, where she could forget herself in her work, now became a living hell. Earlier, she used to be impatient to get to work, out of her little cubbyhole of a room, and would spend far longer in the office than she needed, to postpone her return home. Now she got to work in time – just. But once she was there, Aditya did not let up for a minute, and she could not leave early, either. He made sure of that. She worked late, trying to keep up with the load he piled on her, often reaching back to her hostel after midnight, and going without food, as the canteen was closed. But she could not tell any of this to Aditya, or to anyone.

Anjali noticed the shadows under her eyes, the pale complexion, and grew concerned. She left by 6 every evening, so she didn't know how late Mansi was working, or how little she was eating. But she saw the other girl grow paler and more tired looking, and tried to remonstrate with her.

“What are you doing to yourself?” she asked her furiously. “Do you want to kill yourself or something? Mansi, what's the matter with you?”

“Nothing,” Mansi tried to brush her off with a smile, but Anjali wasn't having any of it.

“Don't you tell me 'nothing',” she said. “I can see with my own eyes. What is happening between you and him?”

‘Nothing is happening between me and him,” said Mansi, and tried to smile. “It's just that the work pressure seems to be more. Those last couple of projects don't seem to be fitting into place.”

“You mean he's turning down all the plans you show him,” guessed Anjali, shrewdly. She was able to hear parts of the conversations from Aditya's room, from her desk just outside. Mansi looked at her in despair.

“Anjali…”

“Why is he being such a beast?” said Anjali, furiously. “Doesn't he know… ?”

“He doesn't,” said Mansi flatly. She had told Anjali some of the story earlier, the bare details, just enough to satisfy the other girl’s curiosity. But she couldn’t bring herself to tell her of Aditya’s disgust for her, of his conviction that she was nothing but a gold-digger, of his seeming hatred for both her and Manish. “He doesn't want to know, and I forbid you to tell him. If he thinks he is punishing me for some sin I've committed, imaginary or real, then let him get his satisfaction. I refuse to beg for mercy, or kneel at his feet. It's his macho pride, which is hurting. Let him take out all his anger. I can take it.”

Mansi was hurting - badly, but her pride was too strong to let him know that. She bore his remarks stoically, doing all the work he gave her, making unnecessary revisions without complaining, knowing he was pushing her to see how far she would bend before she would break. But she didn't intend to give him that satisfaction, not yet. She would not let him see her break.

Anjali was furious.

“You both are mad,” she told Mansi, angrily. “He's pushing you, and you're getting pushed. Both of you are so busy making each other miserable, that you don't even realize what you're doing to each other. One day, one of you has to give. And it won't be him. Tell him, Mansi. Tell him about Manish. Tell him you still love him.”

“He doesn't want to hear anything,” retorted Mansi, obstinately. “And he's told me so himself. If he doesn't want to hear it, I don't want to tell him. And tell him for what? Only to hear him say, I told you so? I told you that you should not have married Manish? No thanks, Angel. I refuse to crawl in front of him.”

“Very well,” said Anjali, angrily. “Stay miserable. I think you're a masochist. But if that makes you happy, so be it. Only, you're not happy, Mansi.”

Mansi shrugged and got on with her work. There was a lot of it, in any case.

Changing Shades 6

Manish!!!

Mansi broke off from Aditya with a muffled cry. He let her go and she stumbled away from him.

“No,” she said, and then more strongly, “No!”

He came after her.

“I'm not mistaken, Mansi. I was not mistaken. You don't love him,” he said, and there was victory in his voice. “You love me, not Manish. Admit it. You can't marry him, Mansi. You're mine, and you always will be.”

“Adi, no!” she cried. “Don't talk like this! Don't do this! I don't love you! I'm getting engaged to Manish the day after tomorrow. I have to marry him.”

He stared at her disbelieving. “You can't do that,” he said. “You love me. I always thought you did. I know it now.”

"No, I don't. I cannot do this, Aditya. Please, don't make me do anything I might regret. I cannot leave Manish now.”

“Tell me that you love me,” he said.

Mansi looked at him helplessly. “Don't, Adi. I can't. I don't love you. I can't love you.”

“Then why did you kiss me like that?” he demanded.

“You kissed me,” she said.

“I didn't notice you fighting me,” he retorted, and she was quiet. She looked at him pleadingly. “Please,” she said, “can you forget this ever happened? This whole conversation, this …”

“This kiss?” he said. “No, Mansi, I'm sorry, I can't pretend this never happened. I always knew you didn't love Manish. You and I … we're meant to be together. You're mine, not his. You love me. Your kiss said it all.”

“I don't love you,” she exclaimed. “You took me by surprise. I don't love you and I can't marry you. I have to marry Manish.”

He pounced on her. “Have to? Why do you have to?”

“Please!!!” she exploded. “Just leave me alone. Isn't it enough that I have to … do you think it's easy for me to do what everybody tells me to do, and expects me to do, without you putting doubts and fears into my mind. When I wanted you, needed you, you had gone to fix your own engagement! Now you tell me that you love me! Why do you think I agreed to marry Manish? Because you let me down when I needed you! I thought you would clear things up for me, and you just disappeared. Now I've made my decision, now please, just leave me alone, Adi!”

“I did not go to get engaged," he replied strongly. "I'm not the one with a ring on my finger. I don't know what stories Sunny and the others made up, and I'm not responsible for them. If you believed in me so much, in our closeness, didn't you stop to think I would tell you rather than any of the others if I was going to make such an important decision? I went because my grandfather was sick, and I told him the name of the girl whom I wanted to marry. That girl was you. It has always been you."

She turned on him.

"Oh, so you told him! How about telling me? Or did you just take it for granted that I would fall at your feet in eternal gratitude, that you were stooping so low as to want to marry me? Yes, I'm poor, I'm not from the same status family as you, so I should fall at your feet and accept anything you care to give me? What is the difference between Manish and you? He also takes me for granted, so do you!"

"You are making things up!" he retorted furiously. "Why are you twisting my words around? I felt nothing of the sort."

"You did," she said. "I had such pride in our friendship…"

"It's not friendship on my part," he said, bleakly. "It was love. But you don't seem to want it, don't seem to need it. You're more concerned with your pride. As for not telling you that I loved you, I thought my actions spoke louder. I'm sorry if I was mistaken. It's obvious that I was wrong in my estimation of our closeness, our ability to read each other's hearts. I thought I read yours, but I was wrong … and you … you didn't even try to read mine."

She turned back to him, stunned.

"Adi…"

"No," he said, still in the same bleak, even tone. "Go to Manish, Mansi. I'm sorry I made such a big mistake. I thought I had found my soul mate, a girl with fire in her, with the courage of her convictions. But I was mistaken. Go marry him. Run rings around him and his parents. You'll prefer that to the life I can give you. I'm not such a big man as he is, that's the problem."

He turned away, and stared over the hills.

She turned and went.

She did not see him again.

She went to Manish, told him that she had a headache and would he take her home. Startled and worried, he obliged.

The next day, she stayed at home. Yes, Aditya had cleared things up for her in her mind. She knew she did not love Manish, not in the way a girl loves the man she wants to spend the rest of her life with. The problem was, that by clearing things up, and forcing her to realize her own feelings, he had only made things worse.

She touched her lips, felt again the feel of his lips, heard the emotion in his voice, and felt her own response.

"I do love him," she thought, with a sense of wonder. "I do! I never realized it till now – what a fool I've been! That's why I was so angry and upset when I heard he was getting engaged, that's why I felt so let down, and depressed. And that's why the world moved when he touched me, when he kissed me. I love Adi!"

But what about Manish? What about her engagement? What about Manish's parents, who had done more for her than her own parents? How could she let them down?

"I can't go through with this," she thought. "I don't love Manish. It's Aditya. It's always been Aditya. And now I know he loves me too. I can't marry Manish."

You cannot let down your uncle, and Manish's parents now, a voice inside her answered back. Everything is ready and set. The engagement is tomorrow. Manish loves you. You have said yes to him. How can you turn around at the last minute and say you love somebody else?

And his parents? After all they have done for you, you cannot let them down. Your life is not only your own. Your happiness is not the most important thing in the world. These people have given you more than life. It's the duty of parents to look after and care for their children, but these people? They are not related to you in the slightest. In fact your father was their servant. And the way they have looked after you, even your own parents could not have done as much. You cannot let them down. Their happiness, their wishes are more important than your own. If you have to give your life for them, it is not enough, after all they have done for you. And what are they asking of you? They are not asking you to give any sacrifices. The reverse, they are welcoming you into their house and making it yours.

But they love you for yourself, a little voice inside her argued back. They love you like a daughter. Surely, if you tell them that you love somebody else, that you don't want to marry Manish, they will listen to you?

Mansi paced up and down in her room, fighting with herself. Then she came to a decision. She quickly and quietly slipped out of the house, and made her way up the hill to Manish's house.

When she returned half an hour later, she was pale, her hands shaking. She came back into her room, and stared at herself in the mirror. Her decision was made – it had been made for her. She knew that she could not make any other, even if it meant a lifetime of regret.

The day after was the engagement. With deep foreboding, she got ready for the ceremony, half afraid that Aditya would say something during the proceedings.

He never came.

All through the ceremony and the tea afterwards, she kept waiting for him, her heart in her mouth. When Manish slid his ring onto her finger, she almost screamed that she did not want it, she wanted Aditya's ring. But she kept quiet, and put her own band onto his finger, her hand trembling. She heard their other friends talking, wondering as to his absence. Nobody, it seemed, had heard from him.

A few days later, Manish told her he had got a letter from Aditya, postmarked Bombay. Aditya had had to fly there suddenly, due to his grandfather's ill health.

“It all happened very suddenly,” Manish read to Mansi. “Sorry could not even inform you before I left. I had to take the first flight out. Fortunately, Grand dad is recovering now, but I have to stay on here and take over the firm much earlier than I thought I would. Am going abroad for a while too, so I will see you after a few months.”

“A few months!” Manish exploded. “He won't even be there at our wedding. That bloody idiot! Calls himself my best friend! Wait till I see him!”

Mansi didn't know if Manish ever saw him again. She knew that she definitely had not, not until this afternoon, when he had walked into the office, and his eyes had bored into her soul, just as they had done at their last meeting.

What am I going to do, she thought. Dear God, what am I going to do?

Changing Shades 5

“Manish!”

He looked at her, saw her face fall, and his own was puzzled. “Hi, can I come in?”

“Yes, yes, of course!”

She stepped aside, suddenly shy. This was the man she had just agreed to marry. She had known him all her life, as a boy in short pants, then as an awkward adolescent, and now as a self-confident young man, and suddenly she was shy of him!

“Mansi?” then again, when she did not answer,

“Mansi?”

“What?”
He looked at her face. “Hey, what's wrong? You did say yes, didn't you?”

That made her laugh in spite of herself, and he relaxed.

“Phew! For a moment there, you had me worried, Mansi! Mansi,” suddenly he was close to her, very close, “Mansi, you do love me, don't you? You know I'm mad about you, always have been.”

“Now that's a lie,” she accused, laughing, stepping away from him. “You have definitely not been always in love with me. Not when we were kids and I used to swing on the swing in your house. You used to push me off. Then when I ate all your chocolates, and your mom said they were anyway for me, you wanted to kill me with your air gun. Then, when…”

“Stop, stop!” he laughed. “We were kids then. Now,” he was close to her again, and his eyes glittered strangely. “Now we're not kids any more. I've been in love with you since you came to college, and started tussling with Aditya for top place. I used to feel so proud every time you got the better of him, every time someone said you were the best looking, the smartest, in the college. The best girl in the college and you're mine. You always have been, and now you always will be.”

He held her close, his arms around her, burying his face in her hair. She twisted a little, feeling somewhat uncomfortable.

“Uncle will come …”

“No, he won't,” he murmured. “I left him with mom and dad, having tea. It's difficult to decide who was the most pleased among that lot! So you can stop feeling shy and come close.”

He pulled her again and she gave up and stood unresisting in his arms.

That seemed to be the way she was the next ten days. Unresisting. Everything happened around her, and it was like a dream, as though it was happening to somebody else. New clothes arrived, the house was painted, decorated, all their friends were told, and they declared they had known it all along, everything was in a bustle, and time seemed to fly till it was just two days before the engagement.

Then Aditya came back.

She had stopped resisting, stopped questioning what was happening. The small spark of restlessness, of rebellion she had told Aditya about, seemed to have died with his going, and with the knowledge that he, too, was getting engaged. Why that should be so, she refused to think about. Her own fate seemed so certain, her life so completely mapped that she stopped thinking about it, much less questioning it. After they graduated, she and Manish would get married. She would join the firm of architects in which her uncle worked as a low level manager, the firm owned and run by Manish's parents, and which he would one day take over. And maybe, she thought, once she got married and fulfilled the dearest wish of Manish's mother, and started working with Manish and his father, she could pay off the enormous debt of gratitude she and her uncle owed Manish's parents. And his parents had been delighted. While not admitting it to the world, they were quietly disappointed that their son showed no trace of the genius of his father, and were delighted to find that talent in Mansi, whom they looked after like a favourite niece. When Manish declared his interest in her to his parents, they overwhelmed Mansi with their joy in the forthcoming union. Mansi was swamped by their happiness. She did not even stop to think if she had indeed found her own happiness, her own partner in life. And even if she had, the thought of disappointing them and Manish could not arise, regardless of her own wishes or dreams. Their dreams had to be given priority over hers, their happiness over her own.

Then Aditya came back, and got the news of the engagement. He did not say anything when he was first told. He congratulated her and Manish quietly, and shrugged off the boisterous questions about his own engagement. They all decided to take the day off when he came back and went out for a picnic, all of them teasing her and Manish about the curfews that were shortly to be clamped on their meetings. All except Aditya. He was silent most of the time, not joining in the banter actively, but looking at Mansi often. And when they all went strolling over the hills, she found herself strolling away from the others with him.

Mansi was restless. The state of unresisting acceptance seemed to have vanished the moment Aditya got back and she saw the look of incredulity in his eyes when he was given the news. Strangely, she seemed to owe him some explanation. Besides, she needed to talk to him, to share some of the feelings which were disturbing her so much. She had clamped down firmly on them and put them away, but the moment she saw Aditya, they all came tumbling to the forefront. She tried not to think too deeply why this was so. Aditya was her friend, her best friend, and he was the one she always needed to talk to, she could talk to. But, surprisingly, although she had been waiting to see him, when the time came, she found herself tongue-tied, unable to bring up the subject. Till he brought it up himself.

“Mansi?”

“Mmmm?”

“Are you happy?”

She looked at him, not really surprised that he should be the one to ask this. She thought for a bit, her eyes on his face almost absently.

“You know, you're the first person to have asked me this,” she said. ‘Everybody seems to have taken it for granted that I should be absolutely delighted.”

“Should you be? Why?”

She smiled a little bitterly. “It's obvious, isn't it? Poor little girl makes it good. Marries the son of her father's boss. My life's made. I'll be rich, have a young good-looking husband, a beautiful big house, cars, servants, inlaws who dote on me, and the icing on the cake – my own company to run. Everything a girl could possibly want. Why should I be unhappy?”

“I don't know,” he said. “Why are you unhappy?”

“I'm not unhappy,” she said, fiercely.

“Then why do you look so restless?”

“Oh, I think it's everything combined. The exams were tough, the engagement is so soon after, that I haven't had time to prepare myself…”

“Prepare yourself to marry the boy you love?” he asked, cynically. “I shouldn't have thought that needed much preparation. Especially with all the icing on the cake to sweeten the love.”

She looked at him, surprised at his tone, his cynical comment barely hiding his simmering anger.

“What are you implying, Adi? Do you also think I'm marrying Manish because of what he can give me?”

“Are you marrying him because you love him?” he countered.

She stopped short.

“I don't know if I love him,” she muttered, half to herself. If I love him, why do your reactions, your feelings make such a difference to me? Why am I so disappointed, so let-down, with your response? But she didn't voice her thoughts.

“Why don't you know?” he persisted. “Haven't you known him long enough?”

She smiled slightly.

“Maybe that's the trouble. I've known him too long. He's always been around in my life, sometimes on the fringes, sometimes, as in these last few years, very much a part of my everyday life. He's there. Do I love him? I don't know. He's just there. I think I'd miss him if he wasn't, but is that all there is to love?”

“I think,” said Aditya deliberately, “that you don’t know him well enough.”

Mansi stared at him.

“What do you mean, Aditya? I've known him almost all my life. My father used to work for Uncle before he died, remember? I’ve known him since we were both seven!”

“I said you don’t know him well enough, Mansi,” said Aditya. “Not ‘not long’ enough. I don't think you know Manish at all. Yes, you've known him all your life. You've known him as a child. In college, you've known him as part of a group, as a friend among other friends. Have you been especially close to him, rather than any of the others? I don't think so. You have never known him alone, what kind of person he is, what kind of man he is, whether he is the one you love, or can love as a husband, as a life partner. That's different from being friends. You need to get to know him on his own, apart from the group.”

“I have, in the last two weeks,” she said quietly. He stopped, and looked at her.

“Then, if you've made up your mind, why these doubts? What do you want me to say?”

“I don't know,” Mansi said, unhappily. “I don’t know why these doubts. Why am I feeling this way? Tell me, Adi. You’ve always been able to help me when I needed you. I needed you when his parents came with the proposal. I came to your hostel to talk to you. But you had gone to Bombay to get engaged, and that was like a slap on my face. I felt your absence was telling me that this was one decision I had to make on my own. So I did. But I still need you to tell me that I've made the right decision.”

“I can't tell you that, Mansi,” he said. “You're right – this is one choice I can't help you with. Your heart has to tell you. I can only tell you what I still believe. You don't know Manish well enough, oh, despite all the time you have spent with him. And you definitely don't love him, not the way a girl loves her husband-to-be. I mean, you think of him as part of the furniture, for heaven's sake. Used to him! Might miss him if he's not around! Are you marrying a man you love, or acquiring a pet dog?”

Mansi smiled uncertainly. “Be serious, Aditya, please.”

Aditya stopped walking and turned her to face him. “I'm not being funny, Mansi.” He spoke forcefully and urgently, and she stared at him, bewildered by his sudden change in tone. “I am not being funny in the least, You are not in love with Manish. You love and respect his parents, the wonderful people who gave you help and support when you needed it, and you are grateful to them. But gratitude is not the correct foundation on which to build your life, Mansi. You are repaying their gratitude by doing well at college, by working with them – do you have to sign over your life to them as well?”

“I'm not signing over my life to them,” said Mansi hotly. “In fact, they are giving me a home, a family, a place and a chance to work, no questions asked, after all that they have already done for me. And I do care for Manish.”

“They are not doing you a favour by giving you a job,” said Aditya forcefully. “Uncle is an extremely intelligent person, and he knows that Manish cannot take over the firm, not now, not ever. He just does not have the capability, the vision, the drive. You do. The fact that you are ready to marry their son is a bonus. They need you, not the other way around, make no mistake. And by your marrying Manish, they all will be happily able to disguise his incompetence with your talent. Oh, yes, they need you, and they are doing this so cleverly, making it look the other way around, that it is them who are doing you this big favour.”

“Don't talk like this, Aditya,” cried Mansi “What's gotten into you? I thought you were Manish's friend! You talk as though you hate them!”

He clenched his hands on her shoulders.

“What’s gotten into me?” retorted Aditya savagely. “Do you really not know what’s gotten into me, Mansi? I’m looking for that girl I saw in you, but that girl seems to have vanished! The girl who had a spark in her … that fire, that spirit! Where has she gone? Manish and his parents are walking roughshod over you, and you’re letting them take over your life – and I'm asking, why?! Uncle and Aunty want you to marry Manish, he wants to marry you, so you agreed. What about what you want? What happened to that resistance, that dissatisfaction in you, that feeling of being pushed into doing something you didn't really want to do? Do you really want to marry him, or is it only that you are so bowed down by gratitude, that you cannot think of refusing Manish, because he happens to be their precious son? Think about it, Mansi. Don't throw yourself away, don't take this step when you don’t love him.”

“I know him, he is a good friend, and I will learn to love him in time,” said Mansi, numbly, but she spoke as though she was trying to convince herself.

Aditya’s hands gentled on her shoulders. His face, his tone was calmer now.

“Are you sure?”

She looked up at him agonizingly.

“Don't ask me these questions now, Aditya. Our engagement is two days away.”

“I wouldn’t have asked you these questions if you had not said that you didn't know if you were happy or not,” he replied, and she replied sharply.

“You're putting words into my mouth. I didn't say that.”

“What did you say, then, Mansi?”

“I said…,” she stopped.

He sighed and looked away from her. Then he let go her shoulders and turned away from her.

“What do you actually want, Mansi? Do you really know? Do you understand yourself, your own feelings? I thought I knew you, but do you know yourself? First you tell me that you’re marrying him, that you think you know him, that you’ll be happy with him. And now you say you’re not sure you’re happy. What do you feel Mansi? Dil se? tell me the truth – more than that, tell yourself the truth! I thought you felt the same way …”

“What way?” she asked sharply. He turned back to her and there was a strange look in his eyes.

“You know – when I heard - I felt angry that you were throwing yourself away on Manish. I felt that he didn't deserve you, that he doesn't love you, that he is marrying you only to please his parents. But I kept quiet because I thought I was mistaken in what I saw, I wanted to see something that wasn't there. I thought it was me that was mistaking friendship for something more. You would not be marrying Manish unless you were sure of your feelings for him. But today you said that you have your doubts too – Mansi, if you have doubts, don't do it. Back away now. You deserve more than…”

He broke off, and grasped her by the shoulders. For long moments, he looked at her and she stared back at him. There was no mistaking the look in his eyes, as they burned into hers.

Mansi couldn't move. His hands held her gently, she could have moved away any time she wanted, but she seemed to be held immobile by the sheer force of his look. She did not know when his hands left her shoulders to move gently up and cup her face, his thumbs moving over her lips, tracing their outline, caressing them, touching them. And then his head bent, and he pulled her into his arms fiercely, and his lips touched hers for the first time.

They touched and lifted, then came down strongly, taking her mouth in a kiss deep and long, a kiss that seemed to go on and on, that seemed to draw her soul from her. His hands left her face to go around her, and her hands went up into his hair to hold his face down to hers, to deepen and lengthen the kiss. She was not merely unresisting, she was responding. She had never felt this way with Manish ….

Changing Shades IV

But slowly, over the two years, it became evident that Manish had eyes only for his childhood friend. He spent more time with her than ever before. He still did not attend classes. That privilege belonged to Aditya and Mansi, and to them alone. But he visited her home frequently - to pick up notes, he said, and when they went out, he stayed glued to her side.

Mansi wasn't sure of her feelings. To begin with, it meant that she spent less time with Aditya, and she enjoyed his company tremendously. Then she felt she was being pushed towards something she was not ready for. She wanted to discuss it with Aditya, but surprisingly, this was one topic she felt shy about bringing up. So she just let things carry on, a little uncomfortable with Manish's attentions, but lacking the courage to bring things to a head.

Then things came to a head without her knowledge. Shortly before their final exams, Manish's parents visited Mansi's uncle

And when she came back from college that day, she found him bustling about in great good humor.
“What's happened, chacha?” she asked, as she went into the kitchen to get their tea. “Today you seem to be very happy.”

“Yes, today I can see the end of my responsibility,” answered her uncle.

She looked at him in surprise. “What do you mean, chacha?”

“Manish's parents came today,” he informed her happily. “They wanted to settle the dates of your engagement and marriage. We have decided for two weeks from now for the engagement, that will be just after your exams, and your marriage will have to be the week after that. Now I have a lot of work to do. Two weeks is not too long…”

“Chacha, wait a minute,” interrupted Mansi, suddenly very pale. “This is my marriage you are talking about? How come I wasn't even asked if I want to marry him?”

Her uncle looked at her in surprise. “Asked? We thought both of you wanted it! That's what Manish said! He's been in love with you for years, and you are so close to him, too. Always at home, it's Manish said this, Manish did that…”

“Yes, but I talk about all my friends,” interrupted Mansi, again. “That doesn't mean I want to marry them. Chacha, I don't want to get married right now. We are already so much in debt to them, what will people say? They have given us everything, now I walk into their house and become mistress there? Hum chhote log hain, I can't do this.”

“Hum chhote log hain, that is why you will do this,” retorted back her uncle. “They have given us everything, and do you know why? Because they have wanted this match from the beginning. They had discussed this with your parents before they died. That is why they asked me to stay here with you, so that your father's dreams of your becoming an architect could be fulfilled, and their dreams of making you their son's bride could also come true.”

“That's not true,” said Mansi, shaken. “Papa and Ma would have talked to me about it before saying anything to uncle and auntie. They may want it, but pa and ma would have said something to me.”

“That is what they wanted, child,” replied her uncle more kindly. “Maybe they did not talk about this with you. After all, you were very young then. But Mrs. Dewan has always thought of you as her daughter, and she wants you in that house. She has never made any secret of the fact. And after all, what is wrong? You have studied with him. You know him well. It is not as if I am forcing you to marry someone you don't know or don't like.”

He took her hands and pulled her to sit down with him.

“Look, my child,” he said heavily. “What you said is true. We are small people, and we have a debt of gratitude to pay these people which we can never repay in a thousand years. What they did for your parents, and then for you, you already know. What you don't know, is that that they have always given me more money than I actually should earn, on the condition that it is spent all on you. Your clothes, the college trips you took, everything was from them. We have never felt a day's difficulty, they have taken care of it all. Why do you think they were so keen for you to attend the same college, have the same friends, be part of the same group, as Manish? This was in Madam's and Sir’s minds all along. Even this house we live in, is theirs, which they have given us free. I didn't want to tell you this, but they always discouraged me from setting up my own house, from marrying anybody, so that they could keep control of you. They are big people, powerful people, and they have done all this only because Madam loves you. Now we cannot say no to them. And after all, child, like I said, you know Manish, and like him. He is a friend. A friend can always become a love. That is why I said yes straightaway. They will love you and you will have a good life there.”

Mansi could not say anything. Aditya’s words, spoken not so long ago, came back to her. “The tyranny of love,” he had said. She smiled bitterly. So true. You could argue with somebody who tried to push you around, who rode roughshod over your feelings, who shouted at you. This gentleness, this kindness was impossible to fight.

The next day was Saturday. After a restless night, she woke up feeling heavy eyed and unrefreshed. She picked at her breakfast listlessly, unable to concentrate or think about anything. After breakfast, she picked up her bag, and went out.

“Where are you going?” called out her uncle.

“I'm going to the hostel to pick up some notes,” she called back. She needed to see Aditya. Maybe his commonsense would put things back into perspective for her.

She walked down quickly to the men's hostel, and went to Aditya's room. They all gathered here very often. She was surprised, but relieved to find none of their group around. Usually, this close to the exams, one or the other of them would be closeted with Aditya, trying to absorb half a year's lectures in half an hour!

She knocked at the door sharply. There was no answer. She knocked again.

“He's not there,” called a voice from down the corridor. It was one of the junior students. “I'm glad you came. He left a message for you. He had to rush to Bombay, his grandfather was not well. Said for you to take notes for him, he'd be back in a week. Left a message for Manish, too, can I give it to you?”

“No,” she exclaimed, and then, again, more quietly. “I don't know when I'll see Manish. He'll probably come here sooner. Tell him yourself.”

“OK,” nodded the boy, and returned to his room.

Mansi left the hostel in despair. A week! The engagement , if it took place, was two weeks away. What if he got delayed? He often did, when he went to Bombay. This meant he would be back just in time for the exams, and her engagement would be very close ... too close.

She bumped into Priya and Sunny outside. “Hi,” said Priya “Come to find Aditya? He's gone to Bombay.”

“Yes, I just got the message,” nodded Mansi, trying hard to sound calm and casual. “Blow, I needed the last set of drawings from him. I'll have to manage on my own now. Have you guys done them?”

Sunny laughed. “We're waiting for one of you to finish them. Hurry up and do them, Mansi, the exam's not too far away. And Aditya's gone for a long spell this time. Neil said his grand dad is determined to make him a final choice of the beauties this time. He won't be allowed to come back till he's hitched up good and proper!”

Mansi and Priya looked at Sunny. “Aditya? Getting engaged?” asked Priya in surprise. “He never mentioned it to any of us. Did he say anything to you, Mansi?”

Mansi shook her head dumbly. Sunny laughed. “These are guys' matters, you girls can't expect to know everything, you know. I'll bet you won't tell us when you're getting hitched, except to invite us to the party! Aditya said the last time he went to Bombay, the old man was determined to make him settle down. He must have seen twenty girls last trip. Now he has to decide.”

Mansi supposed she must have made the right noises, laughed at the right things. She didn't remember any of it. She said her byes, and came back home in a state of shock. How could Aditya not have told her? He called himself her friend. How could he do this? How could he think of getting married, and not tell her?

“Got your notes, Mansi?” asked her uncle, and she looked at him. He had looked after her like a father, and he was very, very fond of her. He was trying to do the best thing for her. And he was right. She did know Manish well. She could make a life with him. His parents loved her. Life would be comfortable, she would have her precious work in the family firm, and it would all be smooth sailing.

“Yes, chacha, I did,” she said. “And, chacha…”

He looked at her as she hesitated.

“What, my child?”

“Chacha, you're quite right. About what you said yesterday, I mean. I just got a bit rattled – I'd never really thought about Manish like that. But you are right – I know him and his parents very well. If they are keen on the proposal, it's all right with me.”

Her uncle looked at her and beamed, his relief evident. He crossed over to her and took her into his arms. “I'm delighted, my child. You have made me very happy. When I die and go up to meet your parents, I will be able to look them in the face and tell them that I discharged all my responsibilities in the best possible way. You will be happy there, my dear child. They all love you very much and will take good care of you. Mr Dewan was saying that he is already organizing two new offices, for you and Manish. Your father's dream will come true, my child. Though he would not have dreamed that you start work there as the mistress! Your parents would have been so happy to see this day!”

Tears came into the older man's eyes, and he wiped them away and released her.

“I will go at once to Sir's house and tell them that you have said yes,” he said. “They must have been expecting me yesterday itself, but I did not want to go till I had heard from your lips that you agreed to the proposal. I will go right away.”

He quickly straightened his clothes, tidied himself and left, leaving Mansi alone in the house. She went to the window and stared out unseeing. What have I done, she thought? Have I done the right thing? Damn you, Aditya, you said you were my friend, you would be here for me all the time. When the time came to make the most important decision of my life, you are nowhere around, and I learn from someone else, not from you, that you are in the process of making that decision for yourself. Without telling me? How could you, Aditya? How could you?

There was a knock on the door, and she turned round in surprise. Who could it be? Aditya? Her footsteps quickened and she ran to open the door.