Revenge

Pritha experienced pure ecstasy as she lay ensconced in her husband’s embrace. All apprehensions she had had about her wedding night faded away as she gazed into her groom’s eyes and felt herself drowning in the depths of barely concealed desire. Then as his lips slowly descended towards hers, all coherent thought left her and she forgot everything, even the shocking revelation pishima had made an hour ago.
Pritha had met Rahul a year ago at a mutual friend’s home. Rahul had been a widower having lost his wife Gayatri two years ago. But he still mourned his wife. Grief enveloped him like a permanent shroud. Melancholia etched deep lines into his handsome face and hopelessness shadowed his eyes. He was an absolute antithesis to Pritha’s bubbly nature and this attracted her. She took it as a challenge to extricate him from the shell he had retreated into following his wife’s death. She hounded him, turning up at all the places she knew he would visit. She got friends to invite them to parties together. Slowly his icy exterior began to melt. Still it took Pritha one whole year to drag Rahul to the altar.
At first Pritha’s parents had been horrified at the prospect of their only daughter marrying a widower. But they had never been much good at refusing their beloved daughter anything and had ultimately bowed before her wishes. Rahul’s parents were of course overjoyed. To see their son come out of his grief and marry again had been more than they could have wished for.
The wedding had been as grand as weddings could be. Rahul had been a little hesitant at first about all the show and aplomb but when Pritha had pointed out that it was her first and only wedding, he had relented and got into the spirit of things. The affair had been a grand success with not a single hiccup except for that shocking revelation pishima made to Pritha on her wedding night barely half an hour before Rahul entered the room and took her into his arms.
Pishima was not really related to Rahul. She was his neighbor and his mother’s best friend. Pishima had lost her husband at a young age and had single handedly brought up her only daughter Parul. Parul was two years younger to Rahul, and when the latter had been all of four years of age and the former only two, Rahul had declared that Parul was his bride. This had become a family lore and the two children were often teased about it in their growing-up years. However in his final year at college, Rahul had met Gayatri at a college fest and had fallen head over heels in love with her. Theirs had been a whirlwind romance that culminated in marriage after a brief courtship of six months. They were the proverbial made for each other couple till tragedy struck in the third year of their wedded bliss. The two of them had been up on the terrace enjoying the balmy evening breeze. Rahul had been lounging on a chair while Gayatri had been leaning against the railing. Something he had said made her throw back her head and laugh. Even as she did so, Gayatri lost her balance and toppled over. There was no time to even rush her to the hospital. Before his very eyes Rahul watched his world crumble. Rahul never thought he would recover from the shock of Gayatri’s death and he probably would not have done so had it not been for Pritha.
In those first months of total despair following Gayatri’s death Parul had watched over Rahul. She was the only one who could coax him to get out of bed and go through his routine meaningless life on days when all he wanted to do was die. She was the one he turned to when he needed a shoulder to cry. Then tragedy struck again. Just two months before Rahul’s marriage to Pritha, Parul had breathed her last at a city nursing home where she was admitted for an ear infection. The doctors diagnosed septicemia. Rahul had wanted to defer the wedding but pishima would not hear of it. She said only dancing at Rahul’s wedding would make her forget her grief.
So the wedding had taken place on schedule and at the end of the day like all newly wedded brides Pritha had waited in tingling anticipation for her groom. A giggling posse of female relatives had finally left Pritha alone in the bridal chambers. Only pishima had hung back. She had made herself comfortable on Pritha’s bed and began reminiscing about Rahul’s childhood. Then very casually she had let slip about Rahul’s foul temper that had led to Gayatri’s death. “His foul temper is the only flaw in my Rahul’s character” she had said “But he has had to pay for it. You do know that it led to Gayatri’s death, don’t you?” Pritha had been shocked. “But I thought it was an accident” she stammered. “Well that was what it was made out to be. And rightly so. Punishing Rahul for it would have gained nothing. After all it had been in a fit of rage. He had not done it intentionally. Besides he always repented it.” Then pishima had clamped her mouth shut having decided that she had already said too much. Only when Pritha pestered her, did she reveal that Rahul and Gayatri had been quarrelling on the terrace on that fateful day and in a fit of temper Rahul had pushed Gayatri over the side.
Pritha had been shocked speechless. She could not identify the murderous Rahul of pishima’s narration with the gentle soul she knew. But before she could recover and ask more questions, Rahul had come into the room and taken his bride into his arms. His wondrous love making pushed all her misgivings to the back of her mind. Pritha dismissed pishima’s tale as ranting of a delusional mind crazed by grief at the untimely loss of her daughter.
They left for their honeymoon the very next day. Pritha had wanted a sea-side resort but Rahul preferred the hills. So they settled for Manali. The days passed in a blur of sightseeing & trekking. The nights were pure and unadulterated passion. Rahul was an expert lover both gentle and demanding. In his arms Pritha experienced myriad sensations and emotions, she had never imagined existed. They had their first quarrel the night before they were to return. Pritha wanted to extend their stay by another two days. But Rahul was determined to return to the plains. He cited his job as an excuse. The argument took place in their hotel room and in a huff, Pritha stepped out into the balcony. The cool mountain air and the sight of the distant mountains bathed in moonlight, soothed her temper. She realized Rahul’s concern and was thinking of apologizing to him when she felt a presence behind her. Turning around she saw Rahul behind her, his arms outstretched, a sly smile on his lips. From somewhere in the deep recesses of her mind Pritha heard pishima’s voice. “In a fit of rage Rahul had pushed Gayatri over the terrace.” Pritha screamed before she l

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ost consciousness.
When she came to her senses, Pritha found herself lying on the bed with Rahul’s anxious face hovering over her. Seeing her opening her eyes, Rahul was filled with immense relief. At the same time he was puzzled. He could not understand her reaction. He had only intended to hug her and apologize for being so stubborn. He had already rung up his office and extended his leave by a few more days. Pritha could offer no acceptable explanation for her behavior. She pleaded tiredness and retired to bed. Late that night when Rahul was fast asleep Pritha rang up her father and had a long conversation with him.
The next two days were stressful for Pritha and Rahul. Some sort of unexplained strain had crept into their relationship. They were distantly polite with each other. Their honeymoon had somehow lost its flavor. On the last day, Rahul decided to drive up to Rohtang pass in a hired car before they set off for the plains in the evening. The road was treacherous but Rahul was an expert driver. They drove in awkward silence. Pritha was full of remorse. She could not believe she had behaved in such a foolish manner and all because of some half-truth a crazed mind had cooked up. Rahul’s soulful expression and perplexed gaze had haunted her the last two days. Tentatively she rested a hand on Rahul’s arm and prepared to apologize. Rahul's stare was fixed on the road ahead. The road was more slippery than he had anticipated. It took all his concentration and effort to keep the car on the road especially at the bends. He was nearing one such treacherous bends on the road when he felt Pritha’s hand on his elbow. On reflex he turned towards her. For one split second his concentration wavered. From the corner of his eye he caught sight of a car hurtling towards them. At the last moment he tried to swerve out of the way but it was too late………
Rahul paced his narrow cell. It all seemed like a bad dream, a nightmare. Rahul sometimes felt he would wake up and all would be well with his world. But the stern faced sentry outside his cell shattered his hopes. This was no dream. This was cold reality. Rahul Bose was in police custody for the murder of his wife Pritha Bose. The events of the past few days unfolded before his eyes. Rahul recalled swerving the car while frantically shouting for Pritha to jump out. Then he felt himself being hurled against the windshield and felt the impact of the steering wheel against his chest before he lost his consciousness. When he came to, Rahul was lying in a hospital bed. His left arm, his chest and his left foot had sustained multiple fractures. His face was criss-crossed with shreds of glass which the doctors had painstakingly removed. Everyone said that his survival had been a miracle. They said it was the seat belt that had saved his life. Pritha had not been so lucky. She had unfastened her seat belt probably in an attempt to jump out but she had not been quick enough. Rahul wished for the umpteenth time that he could exchange his fate with Pritha’s.
Then the nightmare began. Pritha’s father went to the police saying that Rahul had killed Pritha, that the “accident” had been faked. He told them that Pritha had rung him up two nights prior to the accident, saying that she feared for her life. She told him that Rahul had pushed his first wife Gayatri to her death. Pritha confided that Rahul had a foul temper and could get violent if provoked. Pritha’s father even produced a recorded version of the telephonic conversation that he had had the good sense to tape that night. Rahul was shocked. He could find no words in his defense. For the life of him, Rahul could not understand why Pritha feared for her life. In the time that they had known each other, he did not recall a single incident when he had raised his hands on her. Violence was totally foreign to his nature. Except for the occasional lover’s tiff he could not even remember quarrelling with Pritha. And as for killing Gayatri, how could Pritha even imagine such a thing? Only Rahul knew what he had lost that day. Not one life but two! Gayatri had just returned from a visit to her gynecologist that evening. The gynaecologist had confirmed that Gayatri was pregnant. She was carrying Rahul’s child, his flesh and blood in her womb. They had been savoring this news, this new anticipation of their forth coming parenthood all by themselves up on the terrace, before they disclosed it to the rest of the family. Rahul had commented that soon Gayatri would swell up like a football. This had made Gayatri throw back her head and laugh heartily losing her balance in the process. Rahul had not disclosed the news of Gayatri’s pregnancy even after her death. He had kept it close to his heart. Only he knew how much he had lost on cursed day.
Pishima sat in her puja ghar as if in a trance, her eyes shut, a half smile on her lips. “At last” she thought “at last my Parul’s soul shall rest in peace.” Parul had probably fallen in love with Rahul at the age of two when the latter had proclaimed her his wife. In the adolescent years, Parul’s adoration for Rahul grew unchecked. She worshipped the ground he walked on. Pishima was well aware of Parul’s feelings and in fact encouraged it. She herself was extremely fond of Rahul and would have liked nothing better than to have him for a son-in-law. Then Rahul married Gayatri. Parul had bravely hid her pain behind a joyful façade and participated in all the wedding celebrations with full gusto. Pishima too had overcome her disappointment. Then Gayatri had died in that tragic fall. Once again pishima began to hope especially when she saw the way Rahul turned to Parul in his moments of pain. Then Pritha came along and once again Rahul betrayed Parul. This time pishima could not forgive him. Then two months before Rahul’s wedding Parul had died. No matter what the doctors said, pishima knew that her beloved child had died of a broken heart. In her mind, Rahul had killed her child. He was a murderer and deserved to be punished.
On the wedding night pishima had sown the seeds of mistrust in Pritha’s mind with her fabricated tale. Pishima had hoped to fan it in the subsequent days. She would bring discord in the marriage. She would not let Rahul live in happy matrimony, not after he had betrayed her daughter. But the events that followed that wedding night was so much more than even pishima had hoped for. It was beyond her wildest expectations. Rahul in prison for the murder of his wife, no wives! Even destiny had taken pishima’s side. No matter what the lawyers argued or what the judge ruled, pishima knew that Rahul was being punished for the murder of her daughter. Pishima had had her revenge! A sweet, sweet revenge!!