Night Jasmine

Untitled Part 26

Sanyukta felt guilty about spiking Randhir's drink, she knew it would make him unwell but she was driven by impulse. She could not see another woman trying to get close to him; it brought back painful memories of the time she had watched Ishika kiss him. It wasn't rocket science, she understood why women were drawn to him- he put their hormones in overdrive. She had been only ten when she first met him and since then had been in awe of him, as a teenager the mere sight of him was enough to send her in a tizzy. He must have laughed off her infatuation, she thought, he was so used to women falling for him all the time. She knew he was still single by choice, for how long that would be was hard to tell.

YoYo had been generous to her; she got her share of the money for having worked with him that evening even before she had apologised for walking out before closing of the event. She had built a positive image of herself at college, she had excellent grades in theory and practical classes; she was hard working and reliable albeit her penchant for privacy kept her out of the party circuit. Nobody knew anything about her life, and she kept away from distractions. She had been pursued by many boys but she let it be known that she was not interested in dating anyone.

When Randhir woke up the next morning Yasmeen had already left setting aside his breakfast of toast and eggs. He finished eating and cleaned up, contemplating about what had happened between them. He could easily tell she had never been kissed before, but had more than made up for her inexperience. Her touch was sheer magic, in just a few minutes of her fingers working on his forehead he had felt the impact, and when their lips met it had been pure euphoria. He was no stranger to kissing but nobody had affected him like she did. Here was a woman who kept herself hidden all day, there was no way to gauge her feelings, and their eyes had never met. Their tryst had not been meticulously planned, things just happened in the flow but the attraction was mutual, there was no denying that. He did not know how things stood with her, perhaps it would be best to wait and watch.

He had to take things one day at a time. He spoke to his mother about renting the barsati though not mentioning the real reason, she had not said much except for reminding him of his career goals. Casual flings did not interest her, but if he got himself into a serious relationship she would have a say; she would not let anything stand in the path of his success. Renuka had married for love but she had been better at managing the business than her husband. Harsh Shekhawat had been no match for her and he simply let her take over the reins. She would not let her son be led blindly by his heart like she had been.

Yasmeen got back in the evening and started her prep for dinner; Randhir had messaged her that Parth was coming over for the weekend. She insisted on cooking every day, the boys could not talk her out of it so they helped her as much as they could with their limited skills. She knew Randhir would share with Parth about what happened in the night. She was actually happy to have Parth visit them, he was their buffer zone, with him around their sexual tension would be less palpable.

Her biryani turned out superlative that night; she had also made phirni for dessert. The little Aman loved her cooking so she invited him over too letting his grateful grandmother watch her daily soap uninterrupted. They had grown fond of the little fellow, often taking him for evening drives for an ice cream treat. Indeed the three of them-man, woman and child were often mistaken for a family and had become a familiar sight at the tiny ice cream shop by the lakeside promenade.

Yasmeen would not think twice about going out with Randhir if either Parth or Aman joined them. Randhir was happy too, it would give him a valid excuse to ramble with her without any awkwardness between them; he liked spending time with her and would look forward to any excuse for it. She never let him splurge though, seeking out hole-in-the-wall eateries, often picking up the tab herself. That made her the most unpretentious girl he had been with. They had both silently begun to acknowledge their unorthodox bond; they had started to keep the inter-connecting door between their rooms unbolted. When they walked in the moonlight by the lakeside he locked her hand in his own, while she held on to Aman. He wondered how he could make this private Shangri-La last forever.