A Business Deal [MxM]

Chapter 4: Dhruv

My desperate attempts to control my expressions seem to go in vain with Vansh sitting right beside me as I drive. It's been close to fifteen minutes since we left the airport, and no one has uttered a word. After the debacle on the morning of Jagat and Tara's wedding, we did not speak for the rest of the wedding festivities. It appeared as if he was trying to avoid me. Having a conversation was out of question anyways, but he refused to make eye contact either. We did look in each other's direction quite a few times, but he kept looking away as soon as our eyes met. My intentions of approaching him for small talk too, dissipated. I sensed the air and knew it would not work.

The events of that day were by mere chance. Although a part of me was happy about him seeing me that way, it was only later that I realized what was amusement for me would have caused him extreme discomfort. He was not used to seeing men's bodies the way I was. For him, all of them must entail an emotional connection, which for me has become an activity to quench my physical thirst. It strikes me that as individuals, we are polar opposites. My fantasies would remain fantasies.

"You could have sent someone to pick up me at the airport.", Vansh says, breaking my stream of thoughts.

"I had nothing better to do."

"I thought you were overseeing the heritage hotel project."

I nod. "I am. But I did whatever was supposed to be done in the morning. I didn't have anything scheduled post noon."

He sighs. In order to avoid further conversation, he turns and looks outside the window. A while later, he turns and looks at me. "How far are we from your ancestral home? Or even the site?"

"The heritage hotel will be constructed on the outskirts of the city. We should reach it in about five minutes now. My ancestral home is ten minutes away from the hotel."

"In the middle of the desert?"

"Nope. But it oversees it."

"Must bring in a lot of sand into the house then."

"It is unavoidable. The best of things end up having drawbacks too." I pause and look at him. "It is a house I cherish."

He simply nods. I look at him, expecting him to say something more. He does not. He lowers the window to feel the evening air on his face. Being winter, the evening air brings with it chills. I turn off the AC and lower my window too. For the remainder of the time, we just let the breeze cool us, and allow the sand to enter the car.

Soon enough, we arrive at my ancestral home. It is a haveli made of yellow sandstone and marble. The combination sounds weird enough, but my grandmother oversaw the construction personally. Thus, these two materials created an alluring piece of architecture. While the outside looks like a proper haveli, the insides are posh and modern. She ensured that the architecture remained heritage, but the interiors were a mix of the old and the new. She travelled across India for the showpieces that adorn the corridors and rooms of the haveli. The furniture is Western in structure, but Indian in print. Only my grandmother could have juxtaposed all of these elements together to create this home which she later passed on to me. My father's siblings quarrelled over the property being transferred exclusively in my name after my grandmother's death, but her will being notified, there wasn't much they could do. An Indian family drama ensued for close to a year, but by then, I had turned a legal adult. The court made the decision in my favour. Ever since then, my time in India has been divided between my house in Ahmedabad and this home in Jaisalmer. This has been a quaint place for me, offering me privacy and solace, both of which are unavailable elsewhere.