Threads of Destiny

Fate conspired-3

Delhi

In the meeting room, the air buzzed with quiet conversations. A man stood at the front, presenting the current status of the company’s stocks. Yet, whispers floated around, not about the numbers on the screen, but about Barun. He sat silently, distant, his usual focus replaced by a distracted gaze. Colleagues exchanged worried glances, sensing his unease.

Barun leaned back, resting his head against the chair's headrest, eyes closed briefly. The words echoed relentlessly in his mind: "I’ll marry the man you chose." He tried to concentrate, but the thoughts persisted, and finally, unable to endure it any longer, he left the room, leaving everyone puzzled.

---

In a house in Delhi, preparations were in full swing. An elderly woman’s voice carried through the halls, urging everyone to hurry—guests would arrive at any moment.

Kali stood in front of the mirror, adjusting her bindi. Small jhumkas adorned her ears, making her look more mature. At 29, her glowing skin and graceful presence often made her appear years younger. The house bustled with activity. Her family had gathered at her Bua Sushma's home. Sushma, a widow, had raised her son Naveen alone, with the support of Kali’s father, Ramakant. Now, Sushma lived in Delhi with Naveen, and the bond between him and Kali was unbreakable.

Naveen, two years younger but fiercely protective, knocked on her door. “Kali, if you don’t like the guy, just say so. We’re in the 21st century—no one can force you. It’s your life,” he said firmly.

Kali shook her head, reproaching him gently. “Don’t speak like that. They’re our parents.” Despite their adult years, their sibling-like dynamic remained strong. She still saw him as the younger brother she’d grown up with.

Sushma’s voice called out, a reminder for everyone: “Don’t call her Kali in front of the guests. It’s Kalindi.”

---

The guests arrived—a small group of three familiar men and a woman with a young man,  carrying apples and sweets. Among them was Harsh. His shirt was neatly tucked into his jeans, and he carried himself with a simplicity that mirrored Kali’s own. Polite introductions were exchanged, and small talk filled the room.

Harsh’s mother suggested that the two of them go to the rooftop to speak privately. “You’ll be spending your lives together,” she said with a smile.

On the rooftop, Kali stood at the corner, facing Harsh. Without preamble, she spoke. “I was in a relationship before. He cheated on me.”

Harsh listened, then replied calmly. “I’ve never been in a relationship. I was too busy studying.”

Harsh looked at her thoughtfully. “How will you manage your orange business?” he asked.

She paused, considering. “I’ll visit Devalgeer from time to time,” she answered, thinking aloud.

A phone call interrupted their conversation. Harsh ended it quickly, then turned to her. As they descended the stairs, he asked, “My friends are having a party this evening. Would you like to join us?”

Kali smiled politely. “No, thank you,” she declined softly.

The quiet understanding between them lingered, a story still unfolding.

As the guests prepared to leave, Kali's mother, Beena, packed some pakoras and sweets for them. Smiles and polite farewells were exchanged, and numbers were shared. The house gradually quieted as evening approached.

In her room, Kali was on the phone, negotiating prices with a vendor for her new orange juice business. It was a venture she’d started recently, expanding from selling just the fruits. Another call kept interrupting, buzzing persistently on her screen. She ended the vendor call and picked up the new one.

The voice on the other end was unmistakable—it was Harsh. He explained he’d gotten her number from his mother, who’d received it from Beena. “How are you?” he asked, his tone casual but probing. “Do you still think about your ex-boyfriend?”

Kali’s voice was steady. “No, I don’t. Some memories linger, but I don’t love him anymore.”

Harsh didn’t miss a beat. “There’s a party tonight. Come with me. It’ll help clear your mind, and we’ll get to know each other better.”

She hesitated but finally agreed. When she asked her parents, Ramakant’s response was immediate. “No,” he said firmly.

But Sushma intervened gently. “Let her go. They need to understand each other.”

Reluctantly, her father agreed, though his eyes still reflected a lingering anger and concern.

---

That evening, when Kali stepped out of the auto, she found herself in front of a pub. The neon lights and loud music from inside made her pause. Is this where I’m supposed to be? Her phone rang—it was Harsh. “Come inside,” he urged.

Inside, the pub pulsed with energy. In a private lounge, Barun sat with Ishita, their conversation laced with laughter and lingering glances. He seemed at ease, but his attention sharpened when Harsh walked in with Kali. Recognition struck him. Harsh? And Kali?

Barun watched from a distance. Kali looked out of place—her simple blue frock suit clashed with the flashy environment. She sat stiffly, brows furrowed, checking her watch repeatedly. Harsh danced with his friends, occasionally trying to pull Kali onto the dance floor. She refused each time.

After a while, Harsh returned with a glass of orange juice. “This will help you relax,” he insisted. Kali hesitated but took a few sips. The taste was strange. The juice I make at home is much better, she thought absentmindedly. Her mind wandered back to her business plans.

As she drank more, the club’s lights blurred. The couples around her seemed distorted, their movements exaggerated. She felt her balance slipping. Harsh noticed and guided her to a lounge. At first, his touch seemed supportive, but soon it grew invasive. Kali’s unease deepened into fear. She pushed him away, but he was stronger.

“Don’t pretend to be shy,” he murmured. “You were in a five-year relationship.”

Tears welled up in Kali’s eyes—tears of anger and regret. Why did I trust him?

Suddenly, a hand grabbed Harsh’s shoulder, pulling him back. It was Barun.

Harsh straightened, recognizing his boss. “She’s my fiancée,” he stammered. “She felt dizzy, so I was just comforting her.”

Kali didn’t wait. She walked straight to Barun. Her voice trembled, but her words were clear. “Can you take me to my Bua’s house?”

---

The car ride was silent. Barun drove, Ishita in the passenger seat. Kali sat in the back, half-conscious, her thoughts tangled. Barun spoke, breaking the silence. “Looks like your fiancé spiked your orange juice with vodka.”

The car stopped at Ishita’s house. She leaned over, kissed Barun possessively, and winked. “Come over after you drop her off,” she whispered.

Kali sat in the back, silent, the weight of the night pressing heavily around her.