The Princess' Pea

Her life was beginning to resemble snippets of every bad romance novel Lata had ever read. The innocence in the beginning, the hurt and betrayal, a deception, seeking a rescue, learning to rescue herself, and then, when almost where she wants to be, the princess and the pea moment  - the conscience that never let up, everything falling apart, and finally breaking point ... but because it is real life, there is no reprieve. Only further condemnation to damnation.

Lata sighed as she lifted her pen from her diary page. What madness was this? How could this ever get better?

She had never been a fan of those Mills and Boon plot lines where all hairy plots always somehow ended with lovers living happily ever after inspite of all kinds of circumstances. Maybe she should have been. Then perhaps her life would not have climbed trajectories that bore resemblances to those dismal Bronte stories. Was she going to end up alone and confined to a room in a tower where she would scream wretchedly all day and night? Or forever longing for a love that was forbidden and roaming the moors in search of happier times?

She wanted to let go so badly. But it would not go. She had tried but it had clung on.

She wanted to let him go so that she could return to the keeping of a bloody secret that had scarred her life over a decade ago. A secret that was so trivial yet so powerful that keeping it was the only way those involved could have any peace of mind. And yet, this moment where there was none threatened to unwind into eternity. Unless... No, there was no "unless".

Lata resolutely snapped her diary shut. There could be no documentation of anything. She was going to have to trust that the Universe had a plan here. An uneasy knot began to make itself felt in her gut, but she ignored it for now. 

.....

Days turned into weeks, turned into months and there she was, on the night of her betrothal. People laughed and sipped on cocktails. It was an "intimate gathering" of family and friends close to her and Dhruv. 

The pea was a tiny speck in her consciousness. She had forgotten it was there at all.

She passed from group to group, her face radiant with joy, delighting in this celebration of her love, found after decades of loneliness and pain. Dhruv was standing with a group of his friends and he reached out his hand to her as he saw her approach. She took it gladly and drew close to him and warmth surged through her as she felt his arm wrap protectively around her.

As she looked away from him she caught sight of Meera turn her eyes away from them. Something like a sneer was on her lips as she locked eyes with Sahana who sat two seats away. Sahana smiled and looked down at her hands. Her heart slowly picking up pace, Lata watched the two of them in disbelief. Years. It had been years. And they were still... still holding onto that delicious piece of fiction they were dying to let loose as gospel on the gathering. 

Feeling her stiffen, Dhruv asked, "All ok?" he never missed anything with her. He knew the stricken look on her face before it even got there.

"Yes," she faltered and raised a bright smile to his face. If everything goes to hell, I hope you know how much I love you, and always will. No matter what you say or do. And at this last thought, she quickly lowered her gaze and turned to move away, when Meera spoke up.

"A toast to the bride and groom!' she announced. Lata could do nothing but turn around with a gracious smile, and so she did. Meera and everyone within hearing distance stood. Meera crossed a few yards to where her husband Nitin stood She proffered the glass of champagne she held to him, and said, "You're good at speeches, darling. You do it."

Not missing a beat, Nitin smiled brilliantly around, made a small humble bow, took the glass and looked fondly at the bridal couple. "I am honoured to make a toast," he began, and as the crowd became silent, he raised the glass. Just as he opened his mouth to begin, a stifled giggle disrupted the silence, and all eyes rested on Sahana a few yards away. A little tipsy, she swayed as she held the back of her hand to her mouth, clearly trying not to laugh. Meera stood next to her, a dry smile twisting her cherry red lips. Lata's stomach twisted. 

"I never thought I'd see this day," Nitin began, and people went back to watching him. "When I introduced these two to each other, I was only introducing one good friend to another." This time a stifled snort broke out from Sahana. "How much have you had to Drink, Sa!?" Nitin jibed in an effort to quell whatever it was she was up to. Anil, Sahana's husband, quietly walked up behind her, steadying her with a hand on her back. Nitin went on with his speech. Sahana grew annoyed with this attention from her husband, pushing his hand away. A small tussle began as Anil gently but firmly led Sahana away. Meera watched them go, her perfect brows in a small frown.

Lata felt the knot loosen slightly, and she relaxed a little. Maybe it would be OK after all. She knew and trusted Anil, and the wave of derision she felt towards Sahana ebbed a little. She looked at Dhruv. There was a smile on his face as he watched his friend say several silly and funny things about him and his to-be wife. She noted, as she had many times, the strong bond between them and smiled. It was good to feel happy for your friends and she felt that sincere warmth as Nitin spoke. She watched him as he wrapped up and smiled in their direction. She found a glass and raised it to him in gratitude, with a dazzling smile of her own. He had been a good friend to her inspite of that one mistake she had made. And she would always be grateful to him for many things, but chief amongst which was the introduction to Dhruv. 

Meera watched as Nitin bowed to the crowd as they applauded him, and then as he made his way to Lata and Dhruv. She watched the look of affection pass between all three of them. What was she missing? She turned and looked to where Sahana and Anil were in a heated conversation a little way away. Could Sahana have been wrong? Would she ever know? Was it even important? Shaking her head, she walked over to where her husband stood. Linking arms with him, she once again congratulated the happy couple.

.....

Lata and Nitin in a coffee shop, immersed in conversation. They hadn't noticed Sahana watching them from where she was at the counter ordering her own coffee.

Lata calling Nitin every time she needed advice or a guiding hand, or a shoulder to cry on as she slowly pulled away from an abusive marriage. She hadn't known that her husband had got copies of her mobile phone bills and tracked the number to Nitin.

Lata slowly falling for Nitin, without even really knowing it. Catching herself only as she stepped out of her marriage. Realising only when he told her that there could never be anything between them. And she only then realising that she had wanted it so badly.

Lata, turning for comfort to Sahana. Sahana who asked Lata if anything had happened between her and Nitin,... and Lata, for one foolish moment, having wanted it to be true so badly, had said "yes!" For she had imagined it all in her mind... this knight in shining armour rescuing her, the damsel in distress, and claiming her for himself. Her foolish infatuated mind, young and naïve as she had been, had wanted to believe the story so badly that she'd decided it was true.

The pea. The fictional pea. But she couldn't take it back, although she had tried, Sahana wouldn't believe the truth. The pea was far more sensational! And that stupid pea had rolled its way from Sahana to Anil, and somehow to Meera. Meera, for whom Lata only had fondness and appreciation. 

Meera had treated Lata with an interested coolness. Lata had hung her head in humiliation. Had been mad at Sahana for spreading a lie that she had never imagined would be anything more than a small game between the two girls. And Sahana went on to weave delicious story after delicious story about Lata's wiles and her promiscuity. After a while it stopped mattering to Lata, because she firmly believed that those who knew her knew better than to believe those tales. And then Lata met Dhruv. And the pea rolled back under her mattress.

 

.....

Lata re-opened her diary. Her imagination was a fertile thing. Dhruv. Yes, it was a nice name. And yes, this was a nice story. Poor Lata though. Perhaps it was best if she’d never met Dhruv in the first place. 

Lata flipped some pages over to an earlier date. Dhruv. 

Slowly, methodically she crossed out the lines that described with such hope and joy this new connection she’d found. It wasn’t too late. There need be no pea. There would be no pea. There would be no Dhruv.