Forget-Me-Not : Bound by Secrets

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

July 2000

The advantage of a Sunday afternoon was that you could do whatever you pleased-eat, sleep, be lazy, or indulge in reading books that you absolutely craved. However, the disadvantages could sometimes be disastrous. Especially if your mother was Nina Gandhi, president of Rotaract club, renowned socialite, and well known businessman Mahesh Gandhi's wife.

Dia covered her ears in frustration as her mother knocked on her door once again. "Open the door, Dia, or you would regret not listening to me," her mother threatened from the other side, sounding like the polished, cultured, classy house-wife that she was. "I cannot believe that you are twenty, and you're pulling such childish tricks on me."

"Well, neither can I. Go away, mother. I have no interest whatsoever in the function you want me to attend."

"Dia!" she said, sounding shocked, and managing to make Dia cringe even though she was on the other side of the door. One word of absolute disapproval from her mother was enough for Dia to realize how much deep in trouble she was. At the same time, she wished she was anywhere but here. She scowled at the door, stomped across her room to unlock it, and glared at her mother.

"What?"

"Get ready. The event starts at four."

"I'm not coming, mother," she said, at least for the thousandth time. "If you want, you can take Tamanna along. She would love to come with you."

"She is too young to attend a meeting of the Rotaract club," her mother said coolly.

"So? Even I'm too young, but you're hardly bothered by the fact."

"You're twenty," her mother repeated, and Dia rolled her eyes. Oh, for god's sake. "And it is high time you started taking part in these activities. Women your age often shoot to stardom and recognition by starting something great."

Dia already felt ten years older as she listened to her mother say that. "Mom, no offence to you, but a Rotaract club meeting for a cause is not my thing. If I come, I will offend you. You don't want that, do you?"

"It is an important social issue! We are talking about women's rights! Surely that should interest you?"

Dia blinked at her mother and wondered what she could possibly say to get out of this predicament. "I have commitments," she blurted out, and immediately a cold expression formed on Mrs. Gandhi's face. For a moment, Dia thought she was going to die. Or killed, just by the frigidity from her mother's icy gaze.

"Commitments, did you say? Dia Gandhi, your father and I have worked hard day and night to provide a life of comfort and luxury to you and your sister. If you think you owe nothing to us, you are wrong. We expect you to listen to us when we say something for your benefit. Unfortunately, you have proved to be quite a disappointment. I have realized that however much time I spend on giving you the best of advice and opportunities, it would be wasted."

Dia gulped, and suddenly she didn't feel all that good about standing up to her mother anymore.

"And do you even know what a commitment is? This meeting is my commitment. I am the one who initiated it, for the benefit of others and the society. I have responsibilities, and I fulfill them. What use are you of, if you cannot do one thing right?" then she stopped and looked at her for one long, pointed second, and sighed. "Enjoy your commitments. I'll be back before dinner time."

Saying that, her mother went away, her heels clip-clopping on the stairs as she descended. Dia stayed in the doorway, scowling at the spot where her mother would have been a few seconds ago, and closed her door. If she could have one peaceful afternoon to herself, she would be grateful. But no-just when she was happy about having completed almost all her work for the week, her mother had to come and remind her what a good for nothing she was, what a disappointment she was.