The Dark Rainbow

Vikrant Dutta

Description

When Tabu and Rekha share an apartment in Mumbai, they never realize that their search for love and solace with men would come a cropper and they would be sadly disillusioned with an emotional void and a lack of trust. The comfort level they share translates into an emerging bond which has a definitive promise of fulfilment which transcends the barriers of friendship and evolves into love. A story of love and longing, The Dark Rainbow bring alive the colours of true love.

Sujets

• Friendship
• Contemporary history
• True
• Mumbai
• Contemporary
• Romance
• Love
• Fiction
• Bombay

Informations

• Publié par: Roli Books
• Date de parution: 01 juillet 2012
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9789351940562
• Langue: English

Extrait

Vikrant Dutta was born in Mumbai. He did his schooling in the King George’s School, Belgaun and joined the National Defence Academy, Khadakwasla. He was commissioned into the Indian Air Force in 1995. There after he has travelled through the length and breadth of this country. He likes to jog, do yoga and interact with people.

ROLI BOOKS
This digital edition published in 2014
First published in 2012 by IndiaInk An Imprint of Roli Books Pvt. Ltd M-75, Greater Kailash- II Market New Delhi 110 048 Phone: ++91 (011) 40682000 Email: [e-mail] Website: www.rolibooks.com
Copyright © Vikrant Dutta, 2014
All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in a retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic, mechanical, print reproduction, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of Roli Books. Any unauthorized distribution of this e-book may be considered a direct infringement of copyright and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.
Cover Design: Bonita Vaz Shimray
eISBN: 978-93-5194-056-2
All rights reserved. This e-book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated, without the publisher’s prior consent, in any form or cover other than that in which it is published.
In the loving memory of my father, Bhagwant Singh Dutta and to the inspiration of my mother, Soubhagya.
1
It was late afternoon. Evening would soon set in. The room was quite dark. The curtains were drawn. Rekha hadn’t eaten and wasn’t especially hungry. Tabu listened, her feet comfortably placed on the glass table strewn with glossy magazines, their pages carelessly creased. She noticed lines form on Rekha’s forehead, like dried-up rivers marring the otherwise beautiful expanse of her room-mate’s face.
‘There is this doubt in my mind. It’s as though there has been a great blunder, something that keeps announcing itself, just to upset me,’ Rekha said, taking a long drag from her cigarette and narrowing her eyes as she let out a jet of smoke.
‘It’s been a few months now and this … this anxiety has been growing... really fast. Sooner or later, it’s going to affect the way I see my life. Every waking thing. I mean, this can’t have happened. Maybe it hasn’t ... I am at a loss, trying to figure out if it’s all true.’ Rekha continued, looking into nothingness.
Rekha and Tabu had been living in this one-bedroom apartment for the past year. Rekha found the glossy maroon tiles of the floor extremely loud; but after three days of hunting for a house, they had little choice.
Rekha had come to Mumbai from Cochin, after she landed with a job at a garments export firm. Tabu was from Kolkata and had been recruited by a call center. They had stayed briefly in a working women’s hostel in Churchgate, where they got acquainted, took long walks on Marine Drive after work and soon became friends. But the two-hour long commute to work was exhausting.
Also, the living conditions in the Mahila Vikas Hostel were dismal: the food cold and bland, small cubicle-like rooms, six girls stuffed in a cramped ten foot by eighteen space. The bunk-beds made it seem like a three-tier train compartment. They would often joke about going on an overnight journey as they got into bed. Bathrooms were a source of constant acrimony: water supply was limited and there was a severe rush in the mornings; there were no showers; merely a tap, a bucket and a mug. The geyser seldom worked and an immersion rod had been provided. This took a long time to heat the water, so Rekha had begun to bathe with cold water, much to her dislike. At home, she’d always had steaming hot bath water.
Rekha was almost twenty-four, with short hair and flawless skin. Tabu was twenty-five, with long hair and what were often described as typically Bengali features – large expressive eyes and a full mouth.
After a month at the hostel, they had decided that taking a small apartment on rent would be more comfortable, in case their parents ever came down or if they ever wanted to entertain friends. After all, they paid fifteen hundred each for the hostel; surely renting a small apartment close to the workplace was a better idea.
They’d searched frantically on holidays and narrowed it down to one flat in Navjeevan Society which was mostly populated by Sindhis. The rent suited their budget. The deposit of forty thousand rupees was just manageable. The main advantage was that the apartment was just fifteen minutes from their workplace in Andheri, in the western suburbs of Mumbai.
It was on the fourth floor, in an eight-storied building. There was a lift and four flats to a floor. Mr Lakhijani, the owner, was in his sixties. He lived in the adjacent flat with his wife and son and initially, he’d insisted on a deposit of fifty thousand rupees.
He had grumbled about unpaid electricity bills, breakages, society charges for the lift and security, etcetera. etcetera. ‘Two boys I’d let left without clearing the dues. And three months’ rent! Spoiled the walls too. See? I got them freshly painted,’ he said.
‘These bachelors are such rogues. They’d party until late at night, even thrashed the guard one night! Some of their friends came here drunk. The guard didn’t allow them inside, so they beat him up. We called the police. It took one month to evict them from the premises,’ he explained that they decided not to rent it out, but, they were an old couple and his business had wound up now and their son was just a clerk, barely managing a few thousand rupees.
‘Thankfully, once upon a time my business was doing well and I bought these two apartments,’ he added with pride.
The next day, after convincing Lakhijani to bring down the deposit by ten thousand, the girls handed over forty-thousand rupees, and took the keys. All this was over a year ago.
Tabu picked up the cigarette from the ashtray and took a drag.
‘We all have worries, Rekha …. It’s something we don’t really focus on. I too have noticed you’ve been upset the past month … The dark circles around your eyes are certainly showing.’
***
‘It’s so deep rooted, hits my head and I can’t focus on anything, my attention just keeps shifting. I feel so uneasy, restless...’ Rekha said, a bit morose.
She took a long drag and continued, ‘Just the other day, in the café with Sanjay, I was sure he was eyeing this pretty chick sitting across our table. For a while I even thought I caught a silent exchange between them. Of course it could be my imagination playing tricks. We kept talking, he spoke of how his boss was pressurizing him, about his mother’s outbursts, how difficult it was to handle such things. Poor thing, he seemed so vulnerable.’
Tabu would leave for her shift at nine. She worked at night. It was a day off for Rekha after a hectic week of sending huge consignments to Sweden – woollens that were designed in Mumbai and made in Ludhiana. They’d worked until late at night since the export orders were all time-bound. Her manager, Ahmed Patel, had driven them all on furiously, pushing the medium sized unit, Parvez Garments – set up about a decade ago, to its seams.
Rekha had joined as an in-house designer after her diploma in Cochin in designing and textiles. She’d worked in Bangalore for a year before she decided to shift base to Mumbai. Bangalore didn’t offer much opportunity in manufacturing. The IT boom had swamped this erstwhile pensioners’ town and converted it into a high-profile shopping destination with upmarket malls and housing complexes.
Within a few months Rekha realizd that she would stagnate if she stayed on in Bangalore, her only respite being a short overnight journey home to Cochin, but leave wasn’t easily granted. Learning that a lot of professionals from her college and neighbourhood had shifted base there, she’d set her eyes on Mumbai.
Tabu listened to Rekha now, with her trademark expression of excessive concern. They’d got to know each other quite well in the past year.
‘I think Sanjay isn’t sure of himself. It’s something I hate to say, but I have to. And his hesitancy can rub off on you, unless you’re on your guard. He’s pretty confident at times, and at others, he’s groping for even simple solutions. At twenty-eight, he should be more stable. Imagine, years of being a professional, but still like a boy. He should be more mature,’ Tabu said, watching the ash drop the floor.
Smoke had filled the room and she quite enjoyed this dim, smoky environment.
‘I’m not sure if his jumpiness has rubbed off on me. He changes topics faster than I can pop candy in my mouth. We rarely have a conversation that begins and ends on the same topic. If I speak about a movie I’m going to watch, he cuts in by talking of how his sister bought a new mixer. He’s been flashing his new cellphone for the past one week, a big gadget which looks from another planet. He’s playing some weird games on it and it has even weirder ring-tones that beep at the oddest moments.’
‘Maybe he can’t help showing off. Punjabi guys can’t resist making exhibitions of themselves, it’s so typical of them. I can’t forget the scarlet jacket he wore last week. Yuck! He looked so like a sissy, so “look-at-me”! And how he was kissing every girl’s hand, trying to show how cultured he was. Even complaining about the lack of Bacardi rum!’ … ‘Rekha,’ Tabu said, looking at her directly, ‘personally I find him rather self-centred. Ever since you’ve met him, I can tell there’s been a strain on you. Tell me, have you been really happy?’
‘I don’t know … Well, rarely, to be honest. I’m excited about meeting him, but after some time I end up feeling pretty miserable … By the time we s