Chapter 3
CHAPTER 3
ISHA
W e gave Dadi Sa a splendid send-off with a grand state funeral that she totally didn’t deserve.
“Why are you smiling so much? It’s a funeral,” hissed Diya at one point, during the public viewing that was being held in Trikhera stadium.
I knew it was wrong but I couldn’t help it.
“That woman devoted the past thirty years of her life to making me miserable. Now she’s gone, I’m free and there’s nothing she can do about it,” I murmured, as the head of the Rajputana Princes’ Association shed a few crocodile tears about Dadi Sa’s many sacrifices for the displaced royal families who lost their land and fortunes after the government grabbed their palaces and treasuries.
As if!
Dadi Sa always avoided poor royals like the plague because she was afraid they’d ask to live rent-free in one of our lesser palaces. The only sacrifice she’d ever made on their behalf was when she’d picked Ma, who came from an impoverished but ancient royal family, as her son’s bride. And that was only because she knew she could keep my poor, docile mother under her thumb.
Still, who was I to grudge her her fifteen minutes of posthumous fame? I stifled a yawn and put on a more sombre expression, as I waited for them to get on with the most important part of the program. The actual cremation. I wanted to make sure Dadi Sa had finally and completely left our lives for good.
“You look constipated,” said Diya.
“I need a drink,” I said desperately. “How long until cocktail hour?”
“You will not party on the day we cremate your grandmother, Isha Shekhawat,” she said severely.
“If that is not a reason to party, I don’t know what is,” I argued. “You’re just being a cranky-pants because you can’t drink.”
“Nimbu paani?” asked a smooth voice and Diya cheered up as her brother came up to us holding two glasses of lemonade, one with a yellow straw and one with a red one.
He gave her the one with the yellow straw and to my surprise, offered me the one with the red.
“Enjoy,” said Veer meaningfully and I looked up at him in suspicion.
“It better not be poisoned,” I warned.
He sputtered in outrage.
“Sensitive much?” I asked with a sly smile, as I grabbed the glass before he could change his mind.
“Why is your bestie mean girl-ing me?” he demanded of Diya.
“Consider it payback for all the times you mean girl-ed her,” she quipped.
I took a huge swig of the lemonade and started coughing as the burn of vodka hit the back of my throat.
“What the hell is this?”
“A Moscow Mule,” he said, with a grin that kicked me harder than the mule.
Warmth began to spread through various parts of my body, and although I wanted to blame it on the alcohol, I couldn’t because I’d just had one sip. Against my better judgment, I drained the glass in desperation, hoping it would knock some sense into me. All it did was almost knock me off my feet.
My eyes watered and I almost cried out as the vodka burned its way down my oesophagus.
“She looks like she’s going to pass out. Fuck! Padmini Aunty is going to kill me for getting her daughter drunk at Dadi Sa’s funeral,” whispered Veer in a panicky voice.
“Calm down, Laajwanti! It’s not my first drink ever,” I said hoarsely, as I waited for the buzzing in my ears to stop.
“Who’s Laajwanti?” asked Diya in confusion.
“I told you she’s pickled. And it’s all my fault,” wailed Veer.
“Ohmigod! Can you sound any more like a Laajwanti? Stop wailing before the rudaalis think you’re trying to steal their jobs.”
He shook his head in bemusement.
“How did I ever think you were like a docile cow? You’re more like a Minotaur that’s escaped the depths of hell.”
“And you’re the same chauvinistic pig that you always were,” I shot back. “Do you think calling me any form of bovine species is flattering?”
“Isha, you can slaughter my brother like a pig if you like, but later. Please keep it down for now. People are starting to stare,” begged Diya. “Let’s not have a repeat of what happened during our anniversary party.”
She was referring to the slam-bang screaming match we’d had the last time Veer and I spent more than five minutes together.
I looked at her and blinked, and then blinked again. When did she sprout that second head, I wondered. Maybe it was a pregnancy thing. Wait, that didn’t sound right. Pregnancy made you sprout a whole other person in your uterus. It didn’t make you sprout a second head.
“Dee, did you know you have two heads?” I whispered. “Don’t worry, though. The second one is as beautiful as the first one. And I’m sure Bhai Sa will love you even if you turn into a female version of Raavan. He won’t judge you by your booty. I mean… beeewty. Probably because you have so much of it. Boo…eauty. Not heads. Umm, why can’t I feel my tongue?”
“How much vodka did you put in that Mule?” hissed Diya over my head.
“Far too much, I’m sorry. I didn’t know she was such a lightweight,” said Veer, grabbing me before I slid to the ground.
“ Oops ,” I cackled. “Hey, look! The fat lady stopped crying finally. It’s time to burn the Raavan… mphhhh…”
Veer muzzled me with his hand before I could finish my sentence. I took exception to that and bit the inside of his palm gently. And then licked it. Just for kicks. And because it was there. It was fun to see how it horrified him. He looked like he wanted to throw up.
Which reminded me…
U tter disgrace…
Shamed the family…
So embarrassing…
Ma’s words swept over me without even making a dent because all I could think of was that I had puked into Veer’s hand. And all over his brand-new Jordans.
Fuck my life!
“It’s not such a big deal, Ma. We passed it off as heatstroke,” said Diya soothingly, but my mother was beyond soothing.
“People aren’t fools, Diya. Heatstroke does not make people yell embarrassing things about their dead family members. That thing she yelled about burning the Raavan was unforgivable! I mean, the family knew Dadi Sa was a monster, but did she have to advertise it to the world? And that too, in front of the Governor and the Chief Minister, and the entire world. The funeral was being live telecast on news channels,” wailed Ma.
I cringed at her words. Did I really say that out loud? I wouldn’t blame Ma if she disowned me. What was wrong with me?
I straightened up when I remembered that it wasn’t my fault at all. I looked around the room for the real culprit and found him cowering behind his sister. Well, as much as a man standing six feet tall and built like a tank can cower.
“ He did that to me, Ma,” I declared, pointing a finger at Veer. “You need to yell at him as well. It’s only fair!”
“Stop with the kindergarten behaviour, Isha,” scolded my mother. “Ranveer did not pour that drink down your throat. You chose to drink it.”
“He tricked me into drinking it,” I cried indignantly.
“I did, Aunty. It’s all my fault,” the asshole said contritely. “Isha didn’t know there was vodka in it until it was too late.”
I waited for my mother to blast him into outer space because she was a stickler for good behaviour, especially in public. To my surprise, her gaze softened at his confession.
“It’s okay, beta. I know you didn’t mean any harm.”
“He did so mean a lot of harm!” I argued, but she quelled me with a look.
“If one drink makes you forget everything you have learned in life, Isha, maybe you need to stop drinking altogether,” she said quietly.
“That man was passing around cocktails at Dadi Sa’s funeral and you just gave him a clean pass?” I asked in disbelief.
“ That man is a guest in our house. And he is not my daughter. I expect a lot more from you and Dheer than I expect from anyone else, Isha. Yes, Ranveer should have warned you before you took that first sip, but you … You should have set the glass down immediately instead of chugging it down,” Ma pointed out.
I sighed heavily and wished I could throw up some more on her precious Ranveer. Too bad he was on the other side of the room. Maybe I could projectile vomit in his face from all the way here. Unfortunately, I wasn’t possessed by the pea soup-spewing ghost in The Exorcist. I had to be content with glaring at him with all the hatred in my heart.
Dheer entered the room with a phone glued to his ear.
“Ma, it’s fine. My assistant combed through all the footage of the funeral available online. They did catch Isha being sick, but we blamed it on heatstroke, and they didn’t catch the Raavan bit. Good save, Veer!”
Ohmigod! Were they congratulating him now?
Good save, my left bloody foot! Veer was the reason I humiliated myself and my family in the first place!
I hated him!
Like I had never hated anything or anyone before. If I could, I would run him through with one of the swords on the wall, because right now, I hated him even more than I lusted after him.
I hid in my room for the rest of the evening because there was literally nothing Ma could say that I hadn’t said to myself over and over. I was thoroughly ashamed of myself and I wished I could go back in time and pour that fucking drink over Veer’s head instead of pouring it down my throat.
I think Ma forgave me eventually because if she hadn’t, she would have forced me to join our guests for dinner as punishment. She sent my dinner up on a tray and considering she’d sent me my comfort food - a bowl of Maggi noodles - I knew she couldn’t be too mad at me. Still, it was better to stay out of her way until matters cooled down.
I spent the next twelve days in my room, except for when there were rituals to be performed for Dadi Sa’s immortal soul. The rudaalis added to the gloom in the palace because it seemed fake to have professional mourners for a woman who wasn’t mourned at all. But we had to keep up appearances, even if the high-pitched wails of the women gathered below in the courtyard made me grit my teeth and put on noise-cancelling headphones.
After the big feast on the twelfth day, I heaved a sigh of relief because none of the Google alerts that popped up for my name made any mention of my drunken behaviour at the funeral. It was a sultry evening and after a while, my voluntary confinement began to feel like a jail sentence. I waited until I heard everyone come upstairs one by one before I poked my head out of my room.
My bedroom was on the first floor in the East wing of the palace. Bhai Sa and Diya’s Maharaja Suite was in the West wing on the other side of the palace. Unfortunately, Ma’s bedroom was a few doors down from me, and worse, it was very close to the staircase. If she caught me sneaking out of my room, I was sure she’d throw me into the old dungeons in the basement.
I tiptoed up to her door and put my ear to the heavy wood, but I couldn’t hear her moving around. With my heart in my mouth, I walked past the door softly and hurried towards the staircase. I peeked over the banisters and the hall below was in darkness. There was no sound from Bhai Sa’s study either, which meant the coast was clear.
I skipped down the stairs, taking care to jump over the last three because they creaked despite the thick carpet covering them. I made my way to the console table by the door in the dark and fumbled in the top drawer until I found the keys I was looking for - the keys to my ATV.
Bhai Sa liked to ride across the desert on his horse, Pasha. But I liked the safety of an all-terrain vehicle. I liked to speed across the sands, especially in the moonlight when there weren’t any nosy tourists about. I knew where I was headed now. To the only place that could soothe my grumpy soul - Gulab Mahal.
With a silent prayer to all the gods in heaven, I slid back the big bolt on the front door and pushed it open slowly. I had one foot over the threshold when I heard a voice that made me freeze in my tracks.
“Now where do you think you’re going at this hour?” purred Veer, emerging from the darkness of Bhai Sa’s study.