Chapter 36 #2
She was again in a fix what to reply but Kushal coaxed further. “Be sure before you reply, because we have enough evidence to show the court that you were paid for testifying against Anant today.”
Pavithra panicked. Murmurs spread around the courtroom.
Maanya rose. “Objection! He is misleading the witness, your honour!”
Judge Meera held up a hand. “Overruled. Answer the question, witness,” she said, looking at Pavithra, who wiped the sweat beads from her face.
“No.”
Kushal grinned, turning back to the judge.
“So, there was no violence or abuse before the witness ever, your honour. Just a husband and wife disagreeing on a set, which is very common in every marriage.”
He then walked towards Arundhati, who presented him with a file. He took it before submitting it for the judge to take a look.
“Your honour, these flight tickets and upcoming hotel bookings in Bali, Indonesia, costing more than 5 lakhs for her entire family trip, were booked by Mrs Sadhna, as a bribe to testify today in this court against my client Anant.”
Maanya immediately rose in shock. “Your honour, my client, Sadhna, has done no such bookings.”
Kushal presented another document to the court. “Your honour, the bookings were done from Sadhna’s driver’s credit card.” He turned towards Pavithra again. “Now, why would a driver pay for your vacation? Unless…”
The fear of being linked to the driver anyhow when there wasn’t any such thing, Pavithra, in fear, told the truth.
“No, your honour. Sadhna Ma’am herself had asked the driver to make the bookings from his card. That’s all I know.”
Maanya clenched her jaw, whereas Sadhna sat speechless.
“That’s right, My honour. If Sadhna was so sure of the physical abuse she had faced in her marriage, why did she have to bribe her staff to testify against my client, Anant?
Unless she knew she had no such true evidence because it was all a fabricated lie.
A lie, your honour, to just bargain for a higher alimony. ”
The judge nodded, before nothing something down and then turned to Maanya again.
“So you have any more witnesses?”
Maanya called Revati, a friend of Sadhna.
“Mrs Revati, you mentioned in your affidavit that Sadhna confided in you about her husband’s temper,” Kushal asked.
“Yes.”
“Did she ever mention the reason for those arguments?”
Revati hesitated. “She said he didn’t support her comeback in trying her luck in films after her marriage.”
“Is it? If that’s so, then being such a close friend to Sadhna, you must be aware that it was Mr. Anant Mukherjee only who financed her first comeback on a TV Soap, just a few months after their marriage?”
Revati froze. “I… yes. But he didn’t want her to grow her career. To spread her wings and shift her focus to films.”
Kushal countered further.
“Mr. Mukherjee encouraged her career, invested in her work, and stood by her, even supporting her in making a debut in a film, until differences arose about signing a co-star — her ex-boyfriend. Correct?”
Revati took a long pause, knowing that was true.
She couldn’t hide that fact. Anant had denied Sadhna taking up that film offer only because her ex was going to be the co-star, someone with whom she had a bad breakup in the past. She didn’t come here to lie to the court, only to hide the fact that it wasn’t necessary… about her friend Sadhna’s ex-boyfriend.
She exhaled. “Yes.”
Kushal grinned, nodding once, making his point. “No further questions.”
Sadhna’s face drained of colour. She shifted in her seat beside Maanya Kapoor, who immediately sensed the turn of the tide and rose to reclaim control.
“Your Honour,” Maanya stood up. “Financial comfort doesn’t negate emotional trauma. And let’s not forget the pattern of behaviour that has now come to light. I am talking about the scandals surrounding Mr. Anant Mukherjee’s alleged affair with one Ms. Noyonika Talwar.”
Kushal cut in smoothly, stepping forward. “Correction, Your Honour. Noyonika is Anant’s ex-girlfriend. Their relationship ended long before Anant and Sadhna were married.”
He turned slightly toward the gallery. “And we have evidence, supported by timestamps and mutual communications, proving that fact.”
Judge Meera nodded once. “Proceed. Call the witness.”
Noyonika stepped forward, a little nervous. Her earlier media bravado was gone. She took the oath and stood before Maanya.
“Ms. Talwar,” Maanya began, “you’ve gone on record stating that Mr. Mukherjee was emotionally abusive during your relationship. Do you stand by that statement?”
Noyonika’s eyes flickered toward Kushal and Arundhati before she replied, “No. I don’t. There was no abuse.”
The court rippled with whispers.
She continued, her voice trembling but clear, “Anant was always respectful to me. We ended things mutually, before his marriage. I… said those things to the media for attention. I was wrong.”
Maanya’s jaw tightened. “So, you’re admitting you lied on national television? That you had fabricated abuse for attention?” Her tone turned biting. “Or is it that you’ve been coached now to lie? Pressured to retract?”
Before Noyonika could answer, Kushal rose. “Objection, Your Honour. Counsel is leading the witness and implying coercion without basis.”
Judge Meera nodded crisply. “Sustained. Ms. Kapoor, rephrase.”
But Maanya wasn’t ready to give up. “Your Honour, we can’t rely on testimony that flips overnight. This witness is clearly inconsistent.”
Kushal smiled faintly. “Then perhaps, Your Honour,” he said, “the court should also hear from the person who suggested this angle to Ms. Talwar.”
He turned. “We call our next witness - Ms. Kamya Bakshi.”
A rustle went through the room. The court usher opened the side door, and Kamya entered, visibly annoyed.
She was furious at being dragged into this by Kushal, but she knew she had no way out.
For years, she’d been a client of Verma & Associates until she crossed the line.
By interfering in another active client’s case, the Anant–Sadhna divorce, she had breached her contract and paid the price for it.
Her professional reputation had already taken a hit, and she couldn’t afford another blow.
Deep down, she also knew there was another loss she had to live with—Kushal.
The man had made it painfully clear that his heart, his loyalty, and his love still belonged to Arundhati. She never stood a chance.
Her eyes briefly locked on Kushal as she stood in the witness box with Noyonika.
“Ms. Bakshi,” he began, “you are a close friend of Ms. Talwar?”
“Yes.”
“And you’re also the person who advised her to take her personal story to the media, correct?”
Kamya hesitated, glancing at Noyonika, then back at Kushal. “I only gave her advice as a friend. She was upset about her breakup and wanted closure. I… suggested she share her truth publicly. I never imagined it would turn into a scandal of this scale.”
Kushal took a step forward. “You’re under oath, Ms. Bakshi. Did you or did you not encourage Ms. Talwar to mention Mr. Mukherjee’s name specifically to revive her own visibility in the media, to kickstart her career?”
Kamya exhaled. “Yes. I did. I know it was wrong. But she is my friend. I thought it would get her noticed again. We didn’t know it would get out of hand.”
The courtroom buzzed. Kushal didn’t move, didn’t gloat.
Her face tightened, but she didn’t deny it.
“But I realise now I caused damage to innocent people. I’m sorry,” she added.
Judge Meera leaned forward. “You confirm that this so-called ‘abuse story’ was suggested by you and that you personally encouraged its publication?”
Kamya nodded. “Yes, Your Honour. It wasn’t meant to go this far.”
Maanya’s face darkened. “Your Honour! How do we know which version is true — the one in the media or the one in court? This is contradictory testimony! These statements cannot be taken as credible.”
Judge Meera raised a hand. “Enough, Ms. Kapoor. The court has heard both witnesses. Their own admissions indicate fabrication of abuse for media gain. Their motives are now on record.”
She turned to the witness stand. “Ms. Talwar, Ms. Bakshi, you’ve both wasted the court’s time and damaged reputations through falsehoods. Consider this your formal warning. Mr. Mukherjee has the right to initiate a separate defamation case against you both should he choose.”
The two women lowered their eyes. The tension in the courtroom thinned, replaced by murmurs.
Judge Meera noted the proceedings, continued crisply, “The testimonies of all witnesses have been recorded. This court finds the prior media allegations against Mr. Mukherjee to be unsupported by credible evidence. Let us proceed to the matter of alimony.”
“My client deserves compensation for lost years, her halted career even—” Maanya began.
Kushal interjected smoothly. “Your Honour, the petition for ?50 crore alimony is not compensation. It’s extortion disguised as sentiment.
Before we proceed further on the question of alimony, I request the court to admit Exhibit D — the verified financial disclosures of Mrs. Sadhna, along with her last year’s income statements, brand endorsement contracts, and her bank records. ”
He handed the neatly bound file to the clerk. The judge nodded for the documents to be marked.
“As the records reflect, Mrs. Sadhna Mukherjee’s claim of financial distress is.
.. far from accurate. The documents show three active endorsement deals signed in the last fiscal year alone, each valued at over ?1 crore.
There’s also a ?2.7 crore fixed deposit under her name and ownership of a luxury apartment in Bandra. ”
He paused, turning slightly toward Maanya’s table before looking back at the judge.
“Your Honour, we are not denying her right to fair maintenance. But a demand of ?50 crore, justified on grounds of alleged hardship and abuse that never got proved, stands in direct contradiction to her own sworn records. These are not the finances of a woman facing ruin. They’re the finances of someone financially independent, thriving, and still actively earning. ”
Maanya objected vigorously. “Your Honour, Mrs Sadhna’s lifestyle during marriage must be compensated. Her contributions, unpaid sacrifices, are immeasurable.”
Kushal answered calmly to the bench, “Your Honour, alimony must be proportionate and just. The petitioner is not destitute. The evidence shows continuing remuneration independent of the marriage. A demand of ?50 crore is disproportionate and punitive, not compensatory.”
He slid another document forward.
“I’d also like to submit a comparative ledger showing her recent film advances and investment returns. The numbers speak for themselves. My client, Mr. Anant Mukherjee, has fulfilled every legal and moral obligation of a husband. What is being sought here is not justice, but a windfall.”
A brief silence fell in the courtroom as the judge reviewed the papers. Her eyes narrowed. “I will consider the financial disclosures. Seeing the financial capacity, I find no basis for the quantum of alimony sought. The court deems a fair, proportionate settlement appropriate.”
Sadhna’s lips trembled, but Maanya placed a hand over hers.
Judge Meera continued, voice steady and resolute:
“Given the petitioner’s proven independent income and substantial personal assets, this court fixes the one-time alimony amount at ?3 crore, inclusive of all future claims and liabilities, along with a modest monthly maintenance of ?2 lakh for a period not exceeding one year…
sufficient time for Sadhna to reorganise her finances.
The demand for ?50 crore is therefore rejected as excessive and unjustified. ”
Maanya protested sharply, “Your Honour, this is grossly inadequate considering—”
Judge Meera cut her off, tone firm. “This court will not be an instrument for the extortion of monetary advantage through media spectacle, Miss Kapoor.”
A hush fell in the courtroom.
Judge Meera looked at both parties before giving her order. “Given the mutual consent, verified financials, and lack of substantial proof for abuse, the court grants the divorce to Mr. Anant Mukherjee and Mrs. Sadhna Mukherjee, under Section 13B of the Hindu Marriage Act.”
Bang. The gavel fell.
The gavel’s echo still lingered in the air as the courtroom began to empty. Outside the courtroom, chaos erupted. The reporters shouting, cameras flashing. Inside, Anant exhaled a long, unsteady breath, the kind that carried both relief and heartbreak.
He turned to Kushal and Arundhati. “Thank you,” he said quietly at first, then with more conviction. “For fighting for me when no one else believed my truth. For standing by me when the world was too eager to paint me as a villain.”
Kushal gave a small, reassuring nod. “Truth has a strange way of standing its ground, Anant. We just gave it a voice today.”
Anant nodded, glancing once more at his ex-wife, a flicker of what-could-have-been flashing across his eyes before fading. Sadhna and Maanya were already walking out, evading the reporters. Sadhna, though looked pale that the court didn’t approve the alimony in her favour still held her head high.
Arundhati placed a comforting hand on Anant’s arm. “We know what it feels like…to love someone deeply and then lose them to distance, misunderstandings, and time. Separation hurts in ways only the two people inside it can understand.”
Anant’s eyes glistened for a second before he masked it with a faint smile.
“Not every couple gets a second chance… You two are lucky.” He paused, looking at the way Kushal’s hand brushed against Arundhati’s as they gathered their files.
“I’m happy that you found your way back to each other.
You both fought for me, and maybe, through that, reminded me what loyalty in love actually looks like. ”
Kushal closed the final file, slid it into his briefcase, and looked toward Anant again.
“Sometimes endings are the only honest way to begin again,” Kushal said.
Anant sighed, agreeing to that before the three of them walked out together, leaving the courtroom behind.