Flashback continues
Day One - 18 March 2016

The first time ever I saw your face
I thought the sun rose in your eyes
And the moon and the stars
Were the gifts you gave
To the dark endless skies my love

Raman and Ishita's Cabin

Ishita shivered as she pulled her snowy white robe closely around herself, as she prepared to leave the bathroom. The bathroom was as spotless she had found it - her towel neatly hung up, her dirty clothes put in the hamper ready for collection by the housekeeping staff, stray hairs picked up and binned, and her creams and shampoos neatly stored on half of the shower shelf.

It was so awkward sharing a bathroom with a strange man, she mused, as she drew back the bolt on the bathroom door. He had better be neat and tidy, this Punjabi Bhalla. Damned if she was going to pick up after some boorish self entitled jerk.

"You can think about all that later Ishita. Get back to your room now" she told herself firmly, as she put a hand on the door handle. He was sure to come back soon and she did not want to meet him like this.

She pushed the door open.

*************************************************
Raman stuck his keys into the door of the cabin, cursing softly under his breath as the lock appeared to catch.

The night was rapidly turning chilly and his rumbling stomach reminded him that he had had nothing to eat since breakfast. He needed to get inside and shower and get warm so that he could go and grab some dinner. Although how he was going to get through two weeks of eating ghaas poos only God knew.

"Khulja yaar" (Open Dammit) he muttered as, out of patience, he pushed at the door heavily. And to his relief the door finally sprung open.

He entered the lobby of the cabin and then stood awestruck, his voice dying in his throat. For just as the front door had opened, so had the bathroom door. And standing before him, framed in the light from the bathroom behind her, and a dim glow from the bedroom on her left, stood a veritable goddess.

She was of medium height, her slim body encased in a white fluffy robe. Loosely curling jet black hair fell in soft waves over her shoulders and down her back, framing her face. And that face. Oval in shape, medium in skin tone, wet and glistening from her shower. Big black eyes framed by lush brows, a slim straight nose and plump pink lips which she was biting as she stared at him in consternation. A regular collection of features, but God had put her together at leisure. It wasn't just ordinary prettiness, wasn't just about her face either - there was something behind that visage - a fiery hint that flashed in her deep dark eyes, an intelligence that could be deciphered in the arch of her brows. He had seen prettier women, but he had never before seen a woman as interesting as she looked. Of all the images that he had been attributing to Ishita Iyer in his mind, this, this stunner with fire in her eyes, was something he could never ever have imagined.

He had to spend two weeks here with her. Alone. How ever was he going to keep his hands off her? He was not some sex crazed lunatic or a playboy like Ashok, but he had not been a monk since his separation from Shagun either. His affairs had been casual though, and no one had ever touched his heart, even though he was pursued unrelentingly by many of Delhi's most eligible girls and their mothers. But in all his years, he had never before felt as though he had been hit by a steamroller at the mere sight of a woman. With Shagun he had been a callow boy, flattered by a marriage proposal from a beautiful woman. And too late he had discovered that her beauty was shallow, simpering and soulless, achieved mostly through makeup and glamorous clothes.

But this woman, this Ishita Iyer, had not an inch of make up on her face, was clad in a bathrobe, and yet she was the most fascinating woman he had ever seen. He did not realize it but his mouth had dropped open, as he stood and stared at her.

This won't do Raman, his inner voice chided him. You're here to get rid of your addiction to smoking, to focus your mind, to win your sons custody, not to lust after the first female you see. And remember, she's a vegetarian, madrassan Dentist, for God sakes. Stop drooling my boy, and be in control.

And so he decided on the best course of defense. Attack.

*************************************************
Ishita froze as the front door opened and a man stood framed in the doorway.

He was slim in built, of average height, some two or three inches or so taller than her. His thin short sleeved linen shirt outlined taut muscles and flat abs and loose blue jeans encased his hips, tapering down his well muscled legs. She blushed as she realised she was staring, raising her eyes up to his face.

Bad mistake Ishita, she told herself, as she found herself gazing at one of the most handsome faces she had ever seen. Not chocolate box handsome, but interestingly handsome. Fair skin turning pink in the cold of the Simla evening, a sharp hawkish nose below two piercing deep set eyes. And full sensual lips that were slightly open now. All topped off by a head of thick black hair, cut close to this head, with sideburns that gave him a somewhat retro, seventies look. His face was lightly stubbled and as she stared at him she could see fierce intelligence in those hooded eyes.

Eyes that were boring into hers. Her own eyes dropped in confusion and she bit her lips again, missing the indrawn hiss of breath from him.

Aiyoo Murugan she sent up a silent prayer. This was Raman Bhalla? This...this ... Godlike specimen, this movie star lookalike? She had to spend two weeks with this?

And so what if you do Ishita her inner voice chided her. So what difference does it make how handsome he is? You came here to get away from Subbu, not to act like some star struck school girl over a wannabe Shah Rukh Khan. Remember, he is an alcoholic chain smoking meat eating Punjabi businessman, and you, you've sworn off men forever haven't you? Stop drooling my girl, and be in control.

And so she decided on the best course of defense. Attack.

*************************************************

"Say something Raman" his mind chided him again, as his tongue remained uncooperative. "Before she says something. Show her who is boss. Talk dammit."

"Kuch garam paani bachaya bhi, yaa sab khatm kardiya?" (Did you leave any hot water or have you finished it all?) He congratulated himself on his cool voice, his tone sardonic and disinterested.

It was Ishita's turn to drop her mouth open as the insulting words drifted out to her in his deep voice.

Is this how you greeted a stranger? By accusing them of stealing all the hot water in the geyser? She had been wrong about him Ishita fumed. He wasn't just boorish, he was the most boorish, rudest , most uncouth man she had ever had the misfortune to meet. Ever.

"Kyun, Hindi nahi aati?" Comprehension dawned in his eyes as she continued to stand before him, speechless. He began to chuckle softly, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Kya hai, woh acchi khasi build hai tumhaari, toh zyaada pani laga hoga nahi?"
(Why, don't you know Hindi? You see, you have a pretty hefty built, so you must've used up more water, no?)

His chuckles were the last straw for Ishita.

"You...you're so rude" Her usually soft voice was strident, seething with anger.

"I just said hello" he responded in an injured voice. "You must be Ishita Iyer. I'm Raman Bhalla, your roommate."

"Cabin mate, not roommate. Stay out of my room" Ishita responded, anger lacing each word. "Aur agar garam pani chahiye, toh jaldi jaagna seekh jao. Kyunki abhi toh paani choda tha, lekin kal se, you can forget it. You..you rude..mannerless...idiot...pranth...petiyam."
(And if you want hot water, then start learning how to wake up early. Because I left you some water today, but from tomorrow you can forget it. You..you rude...mannerless...idiot...stupid...fool)

She whirled around and entered her bedroom, slamming the door shut behind her.

And he was left standing alone in the lobby.

************************************************
"Well done my boy" he congratulated himself as he retreated into his own bedroom, picking up the suitcase he had carelessly thrown aside earlier in the day. She would hate him with a passion now, and he could keep his mind off her and on the task at hand. To get over his addictions and to calm his mind, in preparation for the fight of his life. His fight for Adi.

He had to admit though, she looked even more beautiful when she was angry. That smoldering fire in her flashing black eyes. The hiss of anger that made her sweet voice low and raspy. Fire in her eyes and fire in her voice. Just like the medieval warrior queen who had led her army into battle. The name eluded him for the moment, but it would come to him soon.

Damn it Raman, stop thinking of her. He gave himself a mental shake as he scattered the contents of his suitcase over the bed, then picked up a towel and headed to the bathroom.

************************************************
Ishita seethed with anger as she got dressed, wrapping up warmly in jeans and a pullover.

He was worse than her worst imaginings. Just who the hell did he think he was, calling her fat? Did he think he was funny, somehow amusing? With a face and body like that, he must have silly females falling all over him. So was this his way of showing his disdain for women? What was the mantra used by misogynists like him all over the world? Treat em mean to keep em keen. Is that what he was playing at? Is that what he thought of her? Well, he had another think coming! As far as she was concerned, the further away he stayed from her the better. She wanted nothing whatsoever to do with him. Nothing.

She gave a quick look at her face in the mirror, frowning at a dry patch on her cheek. She wished she had brought her face cream with her from the bathroom, but it couldn't be helped. She certainly wasn't going to disturb him in the hathroom. She put her ear to the door. She didn't want to run into that boorish oaf again, but luckily she could hear the water running. He was in the shower. She could make a dash for it.

She opened her bedroom door quickly and dashed the few steps to the front door, pulling frantically at the handle. But the stubborn handle was caught stuck, would not move. She pushed and prodded ineffectually, not realizing that the bathroom door had opened, and that her nemesis had stepped out. She kept pushing at the handle until to her chagrin and utter consternation, she felt a damp warm hand cover hers, a rock hard body moving to stand behind her, almost touching her.

The hairs on the back of her neck stood up as she felt his warm breath caress her skin. Her breath caught in her throat and she stood absolutely still, not daring to move. What was he doing? Why was he touching her? And why did she feel as though the current of a hundred rogue dental drills had just coursed through her. What was this feeling, dammit?

She continued to stand like a statue, in the pin drop silence of the late afternoon. Time seemed to have stilled and her breathing seemed to have ceased. The only sound she could hear was his harsh breathing as he pushed her hand down on the door handle, twisting it with the knob and then pushing until the door gave way. She gasped as the door flew open and an icy breeze rushed into the cottage.

The next moment he had let go off her hand, had moved away, and she had run down the steps, and up the path to the main hall, rushing as though the hounds of Hades were chasing her.

She did not look back, did not see how long he remained at the doorway, still damp from his shower, clad only in a towel, and oblivious to the icy cold wind that whistled around him.

He stood looking until she had vanished from view, and then he came to with a start as the icy wind hit him like thousands of tiny daggers. He shivered as he closed the door, retreating to his room to get dressed.

Why had she run like that? Had she felt it too? That frisson of pure energy that had coursed through him when he touched her, when he held her hand? Or was it because she was convinced that he was a villain, out to harass her, or worse? And if it was the latter, why did it bother him so much?

He shook his head at his own stupidity as he pulled on his clothes. He splashed cologne on his skin, the astringent lotion reminding him of the almost painful pleasure he had felt when he touched her. Snap out of it Raman, he warned himself ruefully as he pulled on his jacket and left the cottage, pausing to fix the door handle.

It was time to check out the ghaas poos. And her.

************************************************
Eco Lodge - Main Hall

"Lekin Mona hai kahan?" Ishita asked the bewildered looking waiter as he tried to usher her towards the buffet. "Mujhe uss se baat karna hai abhi"
(But where is Mona? I have to talk to her, now)

An idea had taken hold in her mind as she had run down the path from the cabin to the hall. She would insist that Mona let her share accommodation with the female staff. She couldn't stay in the cabin with that man. She just couldn't. She had no idea what had happened to her when he had touched her hand, when his hot breath had fanned her hair, when his body had been so close to her. But whatever it was that had happened, she did not want it to be repeated. She had no interest in Raman Bhalla. She needed to get away from him, and to stay away.

But Mona was nowhere to be seen, and there was no one at the front desk either. And so she had cornered one of the waiters serving in the dining room, wanting to find out where Mona was.

"Madam, raat ko koi ladies yahan nahi rehti. Sab abhi apne ghar chale gaye, staff bus mein. Agley shift subah paanch baje aa jayenge. Raat ko sirf hum boys rehte hai yahan, dormitory mein. Aur security saare aur chakkar lagate hai. Woh Manager Saab hai, Mr Lobo, Goa se. Unki patni only lady hai jo location par rehti hai, Managers cottage mein. Lekin woh abhi nahi hai madam, woh toh Goa gayi hai, do hafto ke liye. Lekin Lobo sir yahan hai. Aur night clerk bhi hai. Rajiv sahib. Mein unko bulaoon?"
(Madam, none of the lady staff stay here at night. They all just left for their homes in the staff bus. The next shift will come over at 5 am tomorrow. Only we boys stay over here at night. In our dormitory. And the security guards walk around all over the place all night long. But our Manager lives on site. Mr Lobo from Goa. His wife stays with him too, in the Managers cottage, but she isn't here at the moment, she has gone to Goa for two weeks. But Mr Lobo is here. And the night clerk, Mr Rajiv. Shall I call him?)

"No" Ishita said slowly. "Rehne do. Mein subah kisi se baat karloongi."
(No, leave it. I'll talk to someone in the morning)

The waiter smiled and hurried away and Ishita sunk down on the nearest chair. So much for her plan of joining the female staff in their dormitory. It appeared she was stuck in the cabin with Raman Bhalla, unless she just gave the whole thing up and returned to Delhi. But no, she could not do that. She could not face the whole rigmarole of Subbu's wedding. Maybe she could go somewhere else?

But where Ishita, she asked herself as her rumbling stomach reminded her of just how hungry she was. She stood up and moved to the buffet, joining the queue behind the Hungarians who greeted her with polite smiles and hellos. "Jo estet. Hello. " they said over and over, but they didn't appear to have much vocabulary beyond that.

So she had filled her plate with salad, daal and chawal and had retreated to an empty small table in the corner, to ponder her next move. Where else could she go? Mumbai? Goa? Book herself into a hotel for two weeks there? But she had already paid for two weeks here. And she really didn't want to waste her money, not when she was moving to Sydney, would be without an income for the whole year. Just paying the university fees had cleaned out all her savings. She had had to take out a deferred repayment loan to cover her living expenses in Sydney. She really couldn't even afford this place. No, it wasn't that easy to just up and leave. And she couldn't really demand a refund - after all, she had known all along what the accommodation arrangements were. And Raman Bhalla had just been rude to her, he hadn't tried to molest her or anything like that. What could she tell the Manager? Mr Bhalla accused me of using all the hot water? It sounded so petty when you put it like that. After all, there was nothing in the terms and conditions about other guests having to be polite to her.

It appeared she was stuck here. With him.

She sighed dramatically as she chewed on a piece of cucumber, looking around herself vaguely.

And then she stiffened, stopping in mid chew. For he was here, and he was walking towards her. Dressed in jeans and a pullover just like she was, his ensemble topped off by a leather jacket, his hair slicked back from his forehead. He looked suave, sexy, and dangerous. Very dangerous. She swallowed the half chewed cucumber and waited nervously as he approached her.

************************************************
Raman berated himself as he walked towards Ishita.

She was sitting alone at a corner table, unconsciously beautiful, still without a trace of make up, and she looked absolutely petrified at the mere sight of him.

How could he have been so insensitive? So callous towards her? It was all very well for him to have been rude on purpose to try and hide his attraction to her, but she wasn't to know what was going through his head. The way she had run away earlier, the petrified look on her face right now, the terrified glances she was giving him, confirmed to him that he had succeeded beyond his wildest dreams in making her dislike him. The bitter truth though was that he hadn't just established himself as a rude miserable bastard to her, he had likely confirmed himself to be the incarnations of Jack the Ripper and Attila the Hun combined.

Well, he needed to set her mind at ease. She was here on a holiday too, and he had no right to ruin this experience for her.

He stopped at the table, indicating the empty chair opposite her.

"May I?" He asked quietly.

She nodded, wondering just what was going through his mind. He looked...different, calmer. But was he going to be civil to her, or was he going to offload yet another insult that he had dreamt up for her?

He sat down, taking a deep breath as he wondered how to start. For he couldn't tell her the truth, that he had been rude to disguise the attraction he felt towards her, to make her dislike him so that he wouldn't be able to act on that attraction, that pull she had for him.

"Ishita. Ms Iyer. Look, I'm sorry. I know I was rude to you, but that was just my attempt at being funny. I guess my sense of humor isn't.... anyway, I'm sorry. We have two weeks here, together, and I hate the fact that we have gotten off on the wrong footing. I'm not really like that. I apologize. Can we start over again."

"I don't know" she replied immediately, bluntly. "I'm sure you're a nice person and all that Mr Bhalla. But we're very different and I don't know if I can spend two weeks here, in the same cabin with you. I wanted to leave, to go back to Delhi, but ... I realized I won't get a refund and it will be difficult to find somewhere else...."

"Maybe you cant leave, but if I really make you so uncomfortable.... " he hesitated, touched by the honesty in her statement. She would have left if she could, but she couldn't afford to. "Do you want me to leave? To go away somewhere else?" He wondered, even as the words left his mouth, as to why he had made such an offer, what it was about her that made him feel so protective, so considerate, dammit.

She looked at him in surprise.

"Why did you come here Mr Bhalla? This hardly seems like the kind of place for someone like you."

"Call me Raman" He leaned back in his chair as he eyed the contents of her plate surreptitiously. God, is that what he would have to eat? Forget cigarettes and whisky. How was he going to live without chicken and mutton? Maybe he really should leave.

"Kya dekh rahe hain aap ?" (What are you looking at?) She asked as she noticed his stares at her plate.

"Yaar, woh khana hai ya ... (Is that food or....) anyway, I came here to prepare for something Ms Iyer. Mona texted me to say you were concerned about my smoking and she told you that I was trying to give it up. Well, that's why I'm here - to try to quit, away from everyone, from work, from stress. Whether I can succeed or not, I don't know, but it's important to me to try. Something very important depends on it."

"Then I don't want you to leave" she said quietly. "I don't want to get in the way of your goals. We just need to find a way to ..to make the best of things, I guess" Her voice trailed off as she second guessed herself. Why don't you take him up on his offer Ishita, her mind berated her. He offered to leave, let him go. Why this surge of compassion?

"But" she added quickly. "You need to stay out of my way. I'm not...I'm not like the girls you probably know and come across all the time. I come from a very conservative background, and it's difficult for me to share a space with you. So please, just don't make a mess, respect my space, keep to your boundaries and don't bother me, and we should be able to get through this."

"I can keep to my "boundaries" he said drily. "But madam, it's not easy for me to share a space with you either. Not just with you, with any woman, So you don't bother me either, please."

"Fine" she responded haughtily. "Mujhe koi interest nahi hai aap mein."
(Fine. I don't have any interest in you)

"Exactly" he replied, his tone mimicking hers as he stared long and hard at her. "Mujhe bhi toh nahi hai. Interest aap mein. Toh sab kuch theek hai, kyun? You keep out of my way, and I'll keep out of yours."
(Exactly. I don't have any either. Interest in you, that is. So everything is fine then, right? You keep out of my way, and I'll keep out of yours.)

"Fine" she snapped.

"Fine" he replied, the smile returning to his voice. "Ab batao, yeh ghaas poos kahan milega mujhe."
(Fine. Now tell me, where can I find this grass you're eating)

She pointed out the buffet, resuming her meal and suppressing a giggle as he stalked off. Poor Raman Kumar Bhalla. He looked like a hungry lion, and all he was getting tonight was daal chawal.

************************************************
Over on the opposite side of the room, the oldest man in the group of Hungarians elbowed his long suffering wife in the stomach.

"Olga, Olga" he said urgently.

"What is it Olaf?" She responded angrily in their language. "Let me eat in peace."

"That young couple in the corner" he replied. "The handsome Indian pair. They do not know it yet, but their love will set the world on fire one day. Just look at them."

"Olaf, you're an old fool" his wife replied, as she turned to look in the direction he was indicating. "But you may be right for once. Just for once."

And the night marched on.