The Weeping Stars

Whipping up a Storm

It is tradition to rain before Diwali. It is the last spell of rain that depart to leave the field open for the winter to creep in with its misty spells. The walk back from school had quickly turned into a run as the sky opened up suddenly. In no time Isha was drenched from head-to-toe. Shivering, she entered her room and started peeling off her saree. She carelessly dumped it on the washbasin and wrapped the towel around her. She noticed the wind was blowing in a thick spray of rainwater in the room..she hurried to close the panes when something strange sight caught her eyes. Indra was standing in the rain talking to someone. She could not see who, not that she cared. She eyes were glued to the shirt sticking to the rugged planes of his shoulders. She quickly closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She willed her mind to dispel the image. Instead, her mind conjured up images of its own, on them both clinging to each other with the rainwashing down on them. This time her hand were searching too. They explored his shoulders and shifted lower, while his hands settled on her breasts. 

Isha opened her eyes in shock and looked straight down at Indra watching her from the garden below. The look on Indra's face made her aware that her towel has slipped to one shoulder, baring her water drenched figured clad only in petticoat and blouse. Isha hurriedly slammed the window closed and leaned against it. She has no control on her thoughts anymore. Indra creeps in her mind unannounced, and takes her away from her world. 

She did not know how long she stood there. She barely noticed the clothes sticking uncomfortably on her, nor did she hear a small creak. But she jumped when the towel slipped. Or was whipped off her. Indra was standing in front of her. 

'Is it my imagination', Isha thought as she reached out to touch his face. She hand felt like I had touched fire. This was really him. 

Isha astonished glance went past him to the door. It was locked from inside.

'How on earth did you get in?', Isha asked faintly, ' and what are you doing here'.

Indra did not bother answering. He calmly took off his shirt and started drying himself. Isha was lost again in the view in front of her. She has never seen such a beautiful man before. Indra's smile told her he was aware of her scrutiny, not that he minded. He did not mind her attention, in fact he wanted to think only about him. He was on a full fledged seduction scheme.

'Why don't you get out of your wet things, not that I mind the view', drawled Indra lazily.

Isha turned away quickly to hide her heated features. When she returned back into the room, dry and composed, Indra had comfortably settled into an armchair. Isha sat on a chair near her table. She did not know where to look tor what to say. Indra had no such compunction. He lazily surveyed Isha from head-to-toe, noticing how her tiny toes kept curling,revealing some of her agitation. 

'I need to know why you are leading Nitin on?'

Isha was not prepared for such a direct attack. She recovered quickly. 

'I don't see how that is any of your business?' 

Indra brushed aside her frosty tone. His demeanour was that of a teacher scolding a pupil. 

'Sooner or later you will land in a mess and I will have to step in to clean it all up. End it nicely', the last was delivered in a voice that will brook no argument.

But Isha was not in a mood of compromise. 

The frost in her voice dipped to subzero levels. 

'I don't see why it would end in a mess. The Mullicks are wonderful people. My parents are over the moon about this.'

'Are you doing this to please your parents!'

Isha was taken aback by how near he was to the truth. She got up and moved away to hide from his eyes.

'Hiding from me will not solve your problems. You need to be fair to both yourself and Nitin', Indra tells her retreating back.

'I am not hiding anymore. My parents suffered a lot for me. You can't imagine how it's for a girl in a small town, how she is ridiculed and taunted', her voice wobbled,'the names she is called'.

Indra winced. It's true he did not know, could not even imagine. And to some extent it was his fault.

'All the more reason why you should not invite similar speculation again.'

Isha turned around like a hurt tigress. Her eyes were burning. 

'Why are you doing this. What is it to you?'

Indra did not want to answer that, not even to himself. But he has an answer prepared.

'I have been thinking about how you suffered due to me all those years ago. I wish to make amends. Also, some recent developments in my business has made it important that I gat a wife. Why struggle to find one when I already have one.'

Isha could not believe her ears. Has he gone mad? What kind if argument is that?

'Do you think you can just walk in and claim me as yours? I am a person, not a puppet. And I don't even think of you as mY husband.' Indra still looked unperturbed. Isha couldn't help but add,'Nitin is what my future looks like now'.

Indra's cool manner disappeared in an instant. Cold fury marred his features. Just as the storm raged outside, he approached Isha with all the grace of a panther.

 Before Isha could react, he had her in his arms. It was as if he was marking his possession. His kiss was brutal. He bit into her lips softly yet relentlessly, until Isha surrendered with a shudder. Lifting her up, he put her on the bed.