“You can count twice as many on Diya’s.”
“Oh, you goddamn cheat.”
“Sorry for the hurt Kiara,” he said trying to take her into his arms.
“Do I deserve this Rishaan?” she said pushing him away.
“We couldn’t avoid it.”
“Okay, let bygones be bygones,” she said gravely.
“We’ve just begun,” he said dreamily.
“So be it, put an end to it, now and here,” she said sounding firm.
“You know there can’t be ready solutions for these,” he said pleadingly.
“Good bye then.”
“Don’t go by knee-jerk reaction,” he said persuasively, “let’s sort it out, by and by.”
“Go to hell.” she screamed. “With her I mean.”
When that Air India’s Boeing took off from Dabolim Airport, while Rishaan sat beside Diya, who occupied the window seat, two rows behind, a brooding Kiara was in an aisle seat.
‘Now there is no point in forcing him to choose between Diya and me as I’m bound to be the loser?’ she thought in resolution. “Why not I let his passion for Diya satiate itself? Don’t they say man always goes back to his wife in the end? Meanwhile, why not I make the best of a bad bargain? It’s sensible really.”
With 20 minutes still remaining for the flight to land, Kiara walked up the aisle to request the man sitting beside Rishaan for a swap of their seats. As he readily obliged, even as Diya clung on to Rishaan’s right hand, Kiara sat beside him holding his left hand.
Tuhin A. Sinha’s prompt [*] for “Write India Campaign of Times of India” 2015