CHAPTER 9 Design Studio was rabidly energetic. Nikhil worked at a maddening pace and expected everybody to match his stride. He was flying; his feet constantly off the ground where dreams floated and fantastic designs were consummated. Amidst the euphoria at work, there were whispers about a wife who was his antithesis, keeping him rooted, earthed. It made Trisha think of him as a livewire. She had too much to learn and prove but nobody would give her the chance to show her skills. They thought she was an intellectual and she felt like a bureaucrat, pushing files, doing paperwork nobody else would do. But then a day came when Design Studio began to lose its staff, IT companies swallowed up people faster than Nikhil could replace them. Responsibilities slowly started coming her way and with it, recognition. She didn’t report to Nikhil but word filtered to the head honcho and he sat up and took notice of what she did. The grooming process began and she was a fast learner. As the Studio began to rely more on its core staff including Trisha, the boss nosedived into tragedy. His wife was paralysed in an accident and things plummeted into chaos. Trisha’s grooming made its mark in those troubled times. She had an epiphany amidst those troubled waters. She could be an entrepreneur. She had it in her. A bigger realization was of her increasingly growing attachment with Nikhil and she knew she didn’t stand a chance. His dedication to his wife was legendary. And she, Trisha, was no home-breaker. “So what happened, Tri? Where did you mess up matters?” “I fell in love completely.” “And he?” “At the moment, he needs me professionally and emotionally, Re. But I can’t see myself as Prutha’s rival. I respect the woman and love her man. What do I do? Go away somewhere?” “That would be the coward’s way out. Does Prutha know about the two of you?” “That’s what I don’t know.” The two friends sat for long afterwards, Trisha telling Revati about her interaction with Prutha, her visits to their house, everything she could think of. After she finished she turned to look at Revati and was stunned by the expression on her face. “Re! What’s it?” “Are you dumb, woman? Its clear as the water in that glass you are holding.” “Wonderful! And what is it I don’t see?” “She knows. Obviously. And she’s pushing you over the edge, sweetheart.” “That’s a whole lot of crap.” “Ya? Then tell me why she has been so forthcoming with those photographs and talk of family and the little things she has been telling you, showing you about her hold on the family? Have you ever been into the house, its private spaces?” Trisha thought of the time she did. Prutha was tired that evening and wanted Trisha to stay back. Rahul and Parth were busy with their exam preparation and Prutha said she felt lonely. Trisha stayed over for dinner, for lip-smacking preparations of prawns and fried rice along with an assortment of delicacies. The evening’s dishes were Nikhil’s favourites, made the way Prutha liked. Trisha envied Nikhil this sumptuous feast he could have at will and remembered thinking enviously also of Prutha’s culinary skills. Of course, she only directed the cooks. Trisha never gave much thought to cooking. After a post-prandial cup of coffee, Trisha got ready to leave but Prutha asked her to wheel her into the bedroom. Trisha had found that strange for she knew Prutha could do it herself. But she obliged. She had to cross the boys’ room on the way to Prutha’s and for a split second she stopped short when she saw Prutha and Nikhil on their bedroom door. The life size black and white poster made her gasp. The moment framed Nikhil and Prutha leaning against either side of a door; Trisha couldn’t make out the space beyond the door. Nikhil wore a naughty wink that drew a knowing smile from Prutha. Trisha turned away from the intimacy in the photograph, and caught Prutha’s eye. She was looking up at her, craning her head. Trisha had looked away, avoiding the smile flickering around Prutha’s eyes. Trisha was tremulous as she entered Prutha and Nikhil’s bedroom. She felt as though she was invading a private space that was not meant for her eyes or feet. And yet, she also felt horribly curious. How did the two actually live? She entered and turned away almost immediately. She didn’t want to do this, walk into their private space with guilt in her heart. Prutha wouldn’t let her go and Trisha thought the other woman was prattling, uncharacteristically. She looked around the room and saw Prutha’s life all over it. Photographs, personal belongings, books, CDs, … Prutha and Nikhil were enmeshed, she couldn’t differentiate between his and her things. Prutha took a wash, freshened up, changed, made the bed from her wheelchair, stacked away Nikhil’s things that were lying around, and called out to the boys, all the while chatting away with her in a desultory manner. She heard the mother and sons discuss things she couldn’t fathom. A slow sinking feeling had taken hold of her that day that she couldn’t explain to herself. When she finally returned home she felt like an extra in a movie, unable to find her place, knowing well enough that she would not be able to pick up the threads of that conversation between the mother and her kids or that she wouldn’t be able to decide if needed what the family would have for lunch the next day. What was she doing in that home? When Nikhil asked her to drop in occasionally and take care of Prutha, she thought she was going to an invalid whom Nikhil could entrust only to her. Those days Trisha went about her work with mastery she felt drop away when she met Prutha. In the confines of that house, Prutha seemed to be guiding her thoughts.                                                              ….to be continued