Psst: Have you read the preceding chapters?
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When Jenny started her own wedding photography business, it was initially her escape from her daddy, who relentlessly pestered her to settle down with any Kuruvilla or Jacob he could find. It was like he was only interested in the amount of money they had or the expanse of their rubber plantation. The last guy was a complete snob, oh how she hated those typical mucchad mallus. No matter how she tried, she always failed to convince her dad that she could never be tied down. The places she haunted were the Old Tibetian Art Gallery and the Kashi Art Cafe. When the Biennale was hosted in her city, she had been the happiest. She bunked classes and spent time with each of the installations, amazed at the
way the artists’ had captured the souls of their ideas and presented it for the common man to see.
She had even tried to get her father to share her passion, but he had given her a look of incomprehension and disgust. He would never understand her passion for art and photography. Sadly no one else in the family did either, but she was determined to pursue her passion, it was her escape. Her latest assignment was for a Bawa wedding in Mumbai. A shiver of thrill ran through her being as she thought of flying all the way to Mumbai to cover the event. The hosts were stinking rich and had sent her plane tickets. This was her first “business trip”.
Tara’s relief was immense as she held a shivering Roohi close to her heart. She looked at the young man who had rescued her daughter. There was something about this young man that made her feel she knew him somehow, perhaps the way he walked or held his head. There was nothing remarkably different about this guy but his blue eyes, they had unsettled her so. He bent down and took little Roohi’s hand and asked her with a smile,
“You okay champ?”
Roohi wasn’t usually shy, but she blushed and uttered a weak ‘thank you’ as she nodded her head and smiled at this guy who had just rescued her.
“Good girl. Never run away from your mom again. Look at the fright you gave her.”
“Thank you, really. I don’t know how to thank you for saving my daughter’s life. Please Mister err..umm….”
“Cyrus. Cyrus Daruwala. I am sure you would have done the same thing if you had been in my position.” The words at the end of the sentence were wasted on Tara. The colour faded from her face and her fingers felt numb. A shiver went through her spine as she thought about the possibility of this guy being the son of the person whom she was thinking about.
After leaving Roohi and Tara, Cyrus walked back to his car. The phone rang, and he made a face. It was his father. “Yes Dad. Ya ya, I get it. I will be there.”
How he hated these one sided conversations with his father,the famed DD. It was always like this, whenever his dad wanted something from him he would ring up and bark orders at him. The reason he was studying Law in Delhi, instead of in the city where his heart was, was to get as far away from his dad as possible. He had learnt at a very young age that DD was someone from whom you could run but never escape.
He grumbled as he picked up his tees strewn all over the hotel room. He let out a deep sigh when he recalled the chance encounter with that girl Jenny. He smiled and wondered, ’Would I ever see her again?’
He ran his long fingers through his curly mop. And now, instead of enjoying his vacations with his friends in Jaipur, he was expected to get his ass to some stupid wedding his dad wanted him to attend.
His life was dominated by his dad who seemed to be omnipresent. No matter where he went, how many phone numbers he changed, the phone calls would come. Other people who did not have to deal with DD had coined the phrase, Man proposes God disposes; for him the phrase was Cyrus proposes, Darius disposes.
Whenever he made a plan to relax and unwind for some time, DD would call him up and alter the plans. This time again, he had to cut short his trip to Rajasthan and go to Mumbai. Though Mumbai was his hometown, he dreaded being there. His dad was the king of the city; he was fed up of the rumours about his dad having affairs with the women in power; the worst was that his mother seemed unaffected by all that was going around, as if she had resigned to her fate. No one and nothing escaped from DD’s clutches, which is why he wanted to stay far away from Mumbai.
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