Blush

She peered through her glasses, comfortably slid down her perky nose, into the room from behind the window curtains. ‘That Bahadur…. I will have to deduct 100 rupees for not keeping the chink wider! Hmph!’ she said to herself. Readjusting her prosperous body, going on her toes she craned her neck to get a better look. She had knocked off the bare bulb just outside the room, but the one down the corridor was trying to do double duty! Shining brighter, sending its rays to probe every nook and cranny, let nothing stay hidden.

“I like it shaken, not stirred!”

“Ha! Ha! Ha! Anyone would think you are talking about cocktails Darling!”

“But you know what I am talking about, isn’t it Luv?”

“Yes, yes!”

Mrs. Dee nearly toppled over. Clutching her cap tightly around her head, checking that none of her fair curls were peeking like unruly schoolboys in fruit season, she dashed around the building.

It had been a beautiful summer day when Mr. and Mrs. Godrej had gently vrrooommmed into the sleepy little village of Shyamgadh… sister village of Ramgarh… or should it be brother? Well, how does it matter? The point is the scions of the internationally renowned  Godrej Family, the globe trotting fashionable couple… was here! Since the residents of the village did not follow Twitter, Instagram or even page 3, it didn’t bother anyone. But they were smart enough to smell the whiffs of money, power and arrogance which was blowing by the gales. After all, they had lived through the times when Gabbar and his cronies ruled the roost.

Mrs. Dee had settled in  a few years earlier and was the sole custodian of education, medicine, counselling and even the law… all self-appointed.  She had worked for years in the town library at the big town a hundred miles away, where they had a proper railway station and even a bus station. They were talking about building some kind of airport too. She was very fond of reading and books. The term book worm was coined for her. She literally dwelled in the books she held. Having lost her husband to a young temptress and her children to cosmopolitan towns, she lived by herself and for herself. Once a year she undertook the pilgrimage to visit her children and then the rest of the year she shamelessly lived for herself. After she reached Shyamgadh she had her days and nights filled with being benevolent.

Like a dog, she found her hackles raised, wondering what the young, good-looking couple were doing in her village. They should be in Zug; not Shyamgadh, sister village of Ramgarh, no brother village, no… forget it! If that was not enough, they didn’t have a driver or attendants. They took out their spanking new luggage themselves, with L and V written all over, into the big haveli.

Next day, Mrs Dee called the Mukhiya and grilled him about all he knew. The couple had rented the house for a year and would keep visiting. They might have guests at times and requested for the best produce available including the local brew.

“Hmmmmm!” she thought, “Must stay alert, I smell a rat!”

The next day the shining black Jaguar of the Godrejs was joined by a bright red, Lamborghini Aventador! Out stepped a young woman of indeterminate age in torn jeans, white tee shirt, and bright red lipstick. Her oversized dark glasses may not have had a price tag, but it smacked of expensiveness…Her heart shaped face sported a charming smile and whistling a random tune, she won appreciation from one and all in the male section of the society. Mrs Dee was sitting in her verandah, else she would have fallen for sure; she just toppled her tea into the saucer as she exclaimed loudly…  something in French!

She sensed her hackles raised and how!

It’s not that she hadn’t seen rich people, but not at such close quarters. Mustering up all her courage and putting away all her biases she knocked at the imposing door. Knock! Knock!

After a while she heard the quick footsteps of someone in a hurry, and the door opened grandly.

“Hello! Who is it?” said the beautiful Mrs Godrej.

“Ah! I am your neighbour from across the road. Is there anything you need? Can I come in?”

“ So sweet of you! No, we are fine, thank you!” The door shut in her face.

Stunned, hurt, and somewhat humiliated, Mrs Dee retreated to contemplate her strategy.

She recalled she had seen the other woman drifting in the background, sipping some wine, and wiping tears. ‘Wiping tears!!!’

Maybe she had been kidnapped… why would she drive down then? Nah!                                         Maybe she had a secret…                                                                                                                      Maybe she … maybe she… was having an affair?                                                                                   Being the chief law officer, she would have to investigate. She owed it to Shyamgadh.

That’s how she was here, late at night.

As she moved around the building, Sheroo her cat came joyfully forward. He found his favourite pair of legs and gave them a quick massage with his entire body, thrilled that he was getting the said massage, himself. The loud happy purring of a satisfied soul, in the quiet surroundings, reached far and wide. She froze mid step pleading Sheroo to go after the rodents in the hedges. “ Shoo Sheroo… chuha…chuha… please go!” Sheroo now was overjoyed and purred even louder, as if proclaiming his love to the world, a-la-Shah Jahan!

The three indoors, heard it too!

A palpable silence descended on the dark haveli. It was lit garishly in bits and parts, illuminating the cracks and crevices, like the wrinkles on an erstwhile beautiful woman. The imposing door, creaked as its rusted hinges complained loudly, while being pushed ajar. Out trooped the three outsiders. One held a big torch, one a carving knife (though rusty) and one the biggest, stoutest lathi in the house.

She was caught in the beam like a wild animal in limbo, on the highway. Her eyes dazzled, hands trying to shield her identity as a crimson flush spread all over her face.

“You??? What are you doing here in the middle of the night?” questioned Mrs G. “You know her?” asked the other two. “Yes, the nosy parker from the morning!”

“Let’s call the police and hand her over,” said the pretty lady in a soft menacing voice.

“No… no…!” she stammered.

“What are you doing here?” said he.

“Well, I should ask you that, what are you three doing here?” she asked, quickly regaining her composure.

Mrs G quickly assessed the situation and led her into the haveli.

“Well?” Mrs Dee asked.

“Do you know we are Mr and Mrs Godrej? That we are well known across the globe but here?”

“Yes!” she exclaimed.

“Well, what the world doesn’t know is that our daughter is not willing to marry the man we have chosen for her. The person who will keep her happy and also add to our business. She had finally agreed to do our bidding if we could spend a week away from the world, not seen, not heard like an exile. She felt if we could do that at her behest, we cared enough for her!” her eyes brimming she explained.

“Oh! And I thought …. Never mind what I thought! Is she your daughter?”

Mrs. G nodded.

“Congratulations dear so when is the wedding?”

She just smiled sweetly as a pink blush spread over her cheeks. The family forgot all about the intruder and blissfully hugged each other.

Mrs Dee quietly exited, picking up Sheroo on the way, thinking about the conversation she had overheard and blushed again!

Image courtesy Google for representation purpose only.