Flashback
Day One - 18 March 2016
Simla

Strangers in the night, two lonely people
We were strangers in the night

Ishita Iyer looked around her curiously as she got out of the four wheel drive vehicle that had brought her to the Simla Eco Lodge from the airport.

There was wilderness around as far as her eyes could see in the fast gathering dusk - lush verdant forests covering sloping hills, craggy mountains in the distance. The only signs of civilization were close by, in the compound of the Eco Lodge. This beautiful  large wooden hall she had been dropped off at, surrounded by a series of small wooden cabins in a rolling green landscape intersected with pathways.

"Welcome ma'am" A slim smiling young woman, dressed in a verdant green tracksuit and trainers had come out of the hall, a porter following her. "I'm Mona, your hostess this evening. Please come with me for registration. Sambhu will take your bags."

"Sambhu" she turned to address the porter. "Madam ki bags cabin 69 mein le kar jao."
(Sambhu. Take madams bags to cabin 69)

Ishita surrendered her bags and followed her efficient guide inside the building, past smiling young men at the front desk, and into an office tucked into the corner of a large open hall. There were several people scattered about in the hall, mostly Westerners - some doing yoga poses, others simply lounging around.

"Let me just confirm your registration details ma'am" Mona smiled after Ishita had been seated. "Now, let's see"

She shuffled through some forms, before finally selecting one and handing it to Ishita.

"This is what you filled out online ma'am, correct?"

Ishita took the proffered form and glanced at it rapidly.

Name: Ms Ishita Iyer
Address: Galaxy Apartments, Ashok Nagar, New Delhi.
Occupation: Dentist
Age 28.
Marital status: single.
Children: None.
Diet: Strictly Vegetarian.
Height: 5 feet six inches
Weight: 50 kg
Fitness level: Fit, moderately active
Alcohol and cigarette consumption: Never drinks or smokes
Interests: Reading, music, dance, family
Special Requirements: None.

"Is that all correct ma'am?" Mona asked pleasantly

"Yes" Ishita nodded, hoping that Mona did not see the sadness behind her forced smile. Marital status single. But it should have been married. This week. She should be Mrs Ishita Subramaniam. Marital status married.

"Well ma'am as you were told when you booked, we are having a couples retreat this fortnight. So normally we would not have accepted your booking because you see, you need a partner for activities and since the rest are all couples, we would not have been able to pair you up with anyone. But by coincidence, we still had one cabin empty and at the same time you were booking, another single guest was also trying to make a booking. So we accepted both your bookings. But as you know ma'am, you will have to share a cabin with him. The bedrooms are separate and very secure, but you will have to share a bathroom and lounge.

"Yes, I know" Ishita said resignedly. Her decision to come here had been so last minute, after her Australian visa got delayed. And she had been desperate to get out of Delhi, to go somewhere where there was absolutely zero probability of meeting anyone she knew. Anyone who knew about Subbu and her. This Eco Lodge in Simla had been highly recommended by a patient. And after she had googled it on the net, she had been convinced that the beauty of the surroundings, and the promised long walks in the hills and valleys, would be perfect antidotes to her aching heart.

So as uncomfortable as she had found the idea of sharing a cabin with a strange man, she had not demurred, had accepted the conditions. And here she was now.

Her discomfort must have showed in her expression, and Mona added reassuringly "You have no reason to worry ma'am. We vet everyone very carefully before we accept bookings. Mr Bhalla is a very respectable businessman, one of Delhi's most prominent CEOs. So you won't have any issues sharing with him. And you will have to partner with him for the events as well."

Ishita nodded resignedly. She had been hoping that her forced roommate would be someone in the medical field, or someone artistic, somebody that she had interests in common with, could talk to, could get on with. After all, two weeks was a long time. But a businessman? And his name was Bhalla? A Punjabi? Just what had she let herself in for?

Mona was still talking and Ishita turned her attention back to her.

"Mr Bhalla is already here, he checked in an hour ago." Mona waved another form, putting it on top of Ishita's. "I'll show you to your cabin and introduce you...oh excuse me ma'am, I need to take this call."

Mona picked up her vibrating mobile and moved away towards the door, talking animatedly. Left to her own devices, Ishita looked around idly, her eyes falling on the registration form laid atop hers.

"Dekhte yeh banda hai kaun" (Let's see who this man is) she murmured, as she picked up the form.

It was in the same format as hers, typed responses printed out from an online registration portal.

Name: Raman Kumar Bhalla
Address: Akash Ganga Society, Mayur Vihar, New Delhi
Occupation: CEO
Age: 34
Marital status: Separated
Children: one
Diet: Non-veg. No ghaas poos. (No grass)
Height: 5 feet nine inches
Weight: 70 kg
Fitness level: Very fit
Alcohol and cigarette consumption: Hell yes. Punjabi mard hoon. (I'm a red blooded Punjabi man)
Interests: Fitness, Sports
Special Requirements: Keep me away from judgmental females.

Her opposite in every way, she mused with a pang. And she was stuck in a cabin with him for two whole weeks. Some beer guzzling cigarette smoking divorced Punjabi who obviously considered himself to be a wit. A legend in his own mind. He may be a respectable businessman, a CEO, as Mona had said, but he was not the type of person she came across a lot in her daily life. They would have nothing in common. What on earth would they talk about for two whole weeks? Had she made a mistake in coming here, she wondered? No, anything was better than suffering through stories of Subbu's wedding. Anything.

She put the form down and stood up as Mona came back, smiling apologetically.

"I saw in the form that Mr Bhalla smokes and drinks" she said bluntly, before the other woman could speak. "I hope your cabins are smoke free. Cigarette smoke gives me rashes"

"Yes ma'am, this entire lodge is smoke free, so don't worry at all." Mona said reassuringly, as she led the way towards the door. "This is a health retreat, and no smoking or drinking is allowed. Besides, one of the reasons Mr Bhalla gave for coming here is that he wants to give up cigarettes. You should have absolutely no problems at all sharing with Mr Bhalla. He is a really nice man. Very successful and very distinguished."

Ishita looked suspiciously at Mona's bright grin and red cheeks and groaned inwardly. Why did the woman smile and blush so much whenever she spoke of this Raman Bhalla? It appeared the man was a flirt too. Just what she needed, goddamn it.

She had been following Mona along a winding pathway and they had reached a small log cabin, just like all the others she could see in the near and far distance.

"Here we are Ms Iyer" Mona said brightly as she led the way to the wooden door. She inserted a key and opened the door. "Mr Bhalla said he would be going for a walk. Now ma'am, please come inside."

Ishita took a deep breath and walked into the cabin. She found herself in a narrow hall, off which there were three doors, and an open doorway to the south.

"Mr Bhalla has this room" Mona indicated the door on the left. "And this is yours." She inserted a key in the door to the right, swinging the door open and then handing the bunch of keys to Ishita.

Ishita looked around curiously as she walked into the room. It was a single bedroom with a single bed covered with a quilt, a bedside table and a chair and desk. There was no wardrobe, but there was a clothes rail behind the door. A woolen rug in muted tones matched the thick drapes on the windows. It was spartan but it looked perfectly comfortable. Besides, she wouldn't be here for much except sleeping. The program at the Lodge included a lot of outdoor activities and her time in the cabin, with the "Punjabi mard", would be limited.

"And this way to the bathroom" Mona indicated the door beyond and Ishita put her head inside the door for a quick look. The bathroom too was simple but perfectly adequate. "And the living room" She followed Mona to the final room, noting the fireplace, the large shag rug in front and the comfortable sofa and table for two. There was a bookcase with a few books, and an old fashioned transistor radio, but no television.

"It looks fine Mona" Ishita said brightly in response to her hostesses expectant look. "But tell me,  you said all your other guests are couples so do they have to sleep in separate rooms too?"

"Half of our cabins are doubles, with a single large bedroom and a double bed." Mona replied with a smile. "But we are totally full up, so some will be in the two room cabins. But we've squeezed both beds into one room when requested. Some of the couples want separate rooms, you know. A lot of people who come here are estranged from their partners - this is their chance to reconnect, to discover love again."

"Love?" Ishita questioned as she shook her head cynically. She didn't need to discover love. She needed to get as far away from it as possible.

"And are they mostly Westerners?" she added quickly, as Mona looked at her curiously. "I noticed in the hall."

"Not always Ms Iyer. It's just that for this fortnight we have a couples group from Hungary. Mr Bhalla and you are the only two Indians."

"From Hungary? Do they speak English?" Ishita asked, wondering how she would communicate with her fellow guests.

"Not much ma'am. But our guides speak several languages, so there is no problem with communication. We cater to all types of people, and we are very popular with Eastern Europeans."

Ishita looked at her hostess in dismay. "But who will I talk to?" she asked, wondering again just what she had let herself in for.

"Don't worry Ms Iyer. You will be in really good company. I am sure that Mr Bhalla will keep you entertained. Now ma'am, this is your schedule" Mona handed her a folder. "All meals are in the main hall, and we start off with optional Yoga at 5 am. Tomorrow is mostly yoga and a training walk to orientate you with the surrounding countryside. But for tonight, Dinner is a buffet, at 7pm, so you have an hour to freshen up. If you need anything, just call the front desk, someone is always there."

"Fine" Ishita nodded.

"One more thing, ma'am. We've had some problems with getting staff this season, so at the moment we don't have daily housekeepers here. The cabins are only cleaned and linen changed every three days. You have to keep your room tidy the remainder of the time. There is a laundry off the main hall for your personal washing. I hope that won't be a problem ma'am."

"No" Ishita shook her head. Staying busy would be good for her.

"Thank you ma'am" And with that Mona left, leaving her alone in the cabin.

Ishita closed the front door behind her and then walked around the small rustic cabin, wondering once again just what he had let herself in for, about the circumstances of life that had brought her to this place.

Aged 28, she was the younger daughter of Vishwa and Madhu Iyer, retired civil servants from Chennai. Sister of Vandita, aunty of Shravan and sister in law of Bala. And former fiancée of Bala's brother Subbu. A dentist by profession who was now about to commence a Masters in pediatric dentistry. And a barren woman, who could never have a child. A woman on the run from the reminder that her former fiancée had well and truly moved on without her.

She had met Subbu when she was 16, and still in high school, when her older sister Vandita had married Subbu's brother Bala. Their friendship had developed slowly as they had realised they had a lot in common, shared the same interests and life aspirations. They had started dating before she had turned eighteen, although nothing much had changed in their always friendly relationship, except the feeling that they were special to each other, that they were meant to be together. She had followed Subbu to dental school and had waited patiently when he went to London for three years on a scholarship, delaying their engagement. But he had returned just over six months ago and they had finally set the date for their engagement.

And then, on their engagement day, during the ceremony, she had collapsed with abdominal pains and had discovered that a childhood bout of stomach tb had damaged her Fallopian tubes. She had been told that the chances of her becoming a mother were very slim, and even as she had looked to Subbu for support, he had withdrawn from her. A few days later he had ended their relationship. Having children was important to him, he had told her, and he wasn't willing to take the chance that she may never conceive.

"But Subbu we've never tried. We can try after we get married, we can look at getting treatment, we are still young, we love each other ...." She had held on to his hands, trying to get him to understand. But her voice had trailed off  as he had shrugged off her hands. "I'm not willing to take the chance Ishita" he had said coldly. "Love is just a word. All this attraction, love, it all ends after a year or two of marriage. Children make a family. Without children there is no point."

"Tum baanj ho Ishita" his mother had added. "Aur yeh Subbu par nainsaafi hoga, agar usse taras khakar tumse shaadi karna pada. Tum Subbu ko aise rishte mein kyun bandhna chahti ho, jo woh khud nahi chahta?"
(You're barren Ishita. And it's unfair to Subbu if he is forced to marry you out of pity. Why do you want to trap Subbu in a relationship that he himself doesn't want?)

And with those cruel words, Subbu had gone out of her life.

She had nursed her heartache for six months, and had tried to get her life back on track, but life kept throwing her perceived disability in her face. Her mother had been determined to get her married, to show Subbu's family down. But every suitor that was approached had rejected her because she was barren. Ishita had no interest in marriage, but her mothers tears would blackmail her into meeting the men she selected. And every time she met one of these arranged suitors, she would tell them the truth about her life. And there would be yet another rejection.

And then there were reminders of Subbu everywhere. They had been together for almost ten years, and he had been an integral part of all her dreams for the future. So she had tried to change the very course of her dreams, had applied for and gotten accepted into a one years Masters program in pediatric dentistry at Sydney University, in Australia. But then Subbu's wedding had been scheduled two weeks before her visa became effective. And she knew she could not be in Delhi, or Chennai, when his wedding took place.

So she had run here, to this Eco Lodge, in far away Simla, where she knew no one and no one knew her.

Well, she had run and she had arrived. To this hidden valley full of Hungarians and an alcohol swilling obnoxious Punjabi who, it appeared, she had been marked down to spend the entire two weeks with.

Still,  if nothing else, it would be an adventure. And surely she could avoid this Raman Bhalla. She would stay in her room when in the cabin, and would avoid him when outside. Maybe one of the estranged Hungarian wives would latch on to him and then she, Ishita, could spend her time in solitude, partnerless.

She giggled to herself as she unpacked, at the imagined sight of a blonde Hungarian and this unknown Punjabi walking arm in arm in the Simla hills. Maybe she should go and scout out a potential partner for him in the main hall. But first she really needed that shower .

She grabbed her dressing robe, toiletries and a towel and walked into the bathroom.

********************************
Raman Bhalla sighed to himself as he perched alone on a seat for two, watching the setting sun.

God, he could do with a cigarette right now.

He fidgeted with his hands as he looked into the distance, wondering about the circumstances of life that had brought him here, to this place.

Aged 34, Raman Kumar Bhalla was the oldest son of Toshi and Om Prakash Bhalla. Brother of Simmi, Romi and Rinki. And father of Adi.

His face creased into a smile as he thought of his nine year old son. Very soon to be ten. It was for Adi that he was here. It was for Adi that he needed to give up his addiction for cigarettes. The time was opportune for him to relaunch his fight for Adi's custody and he did not want to give that woman any ammunition to use against him. That woman. His estranged wife Shagun.

He had married her when he was just 23 years old. He had just graduated from university, had been looking for work but not seriously, when a proposal had come for him from a fellow Punjabi family, and his parents had introduced him to Shagun Arora. Only 21, petite and delicate looking, she had seemed almost too good for an overweight, geeky looking man like him. He had been flattered by her interest and had fallen head over heels in infatuation with her, had not thought to look closer into her motives for choosing him, the naive geeky eldest son of a rich businessman.

But then, just three and a half weeks into their marriage, while the wedding festivities were still winding down, his father's business partners had performed a hostile takeover. And in just one fell stroke, his father had lost everything. Om Prakash Bhalla had been broken by his partners duplicity and had plunged into severe depression. His mother was a housewife and his younger siblings were still at school and college. That left Raman as the only person in his family who could keep the family afloat, who could keep their heads above water financially.

He had been forced to take the first job he could find, so that his siblings could remain at school and college, so that his parents had food to eat. Luckily, their home was safe from foreclosure, as his father had long ago transferred the house deeds to his wife. But for everything else, Raman had been the sole breadwinner, the only provider.

He had joined Khanna Industries as a graduate trainee and had met old Mr Aditya Khanna- childless, widower, who had taken the earnest but worried young Raman Bhalla under his wing. Mr Khanna's only family were his brothers two sons who lived in London, and Raman had became like a surrogate son to him. He had learnt his business acumen from the old man, had honed his sharp mind in the ways of the world.

Going to work had meant that he could not spend much time paying attention to his new bride. And not having money meant that they had had to let go off their servants, which in turn meant that Shagun was expected to help around the house, to help his mother in the kitchen and with housework. And that was when the real character of his new wife had become evident.

He had married her based on her beauty and nothing else, his parents had selected her based on her beauty and they all realised too late that Shagun's beauty was only skin deep. Shagun was a  mean dim witted woman, without any interests except for how she looked and what she wore. She complained about having to do any house work, refused to step into the kitchen, demanded new saris and cosmetics, demanded to be taken out to dinner and the movies regularly. She taunted him about not being rich any longer, and made trouble for his mother and sisters, trying her best to pit him against his family.

It had all been too much for him and he had spent more and more time at the office, trying to block out the friction, the endless tension at home.

But life was not all bad. His father had slowly recovered from his depression, and there had been respite a year into his marriage, when his son had been born. Aditya. He had named him after his mentor and employer, and had showered all his love and his attention on him.

But apart from his son, there was no love in his marriage. He was stuck in the relationship though. He was an honorable man, and he had married for better and for worse and so he had stayed and suffered in his marriage. And perhaps he would still be stuck in it, would still be suffering within it, had something momentous not happened when Adi was just over three years old.

Mr Khanna's nephew, Ashok Khanna, was visiting him from London when the old man slipped and fell in his home. Ashok had rushed him to hospital, but old Mr Khanna had died without regaining consciousness. And, according to a new will signed just before Mr Khanna's accident, Ashok Khanna became the new owner of Khanna Industries.

Raman had become Mr Khanna's right hand man by this stage, and Ashok Khanna took full advantage of Raman's loyalty to the company, letting him do all the work while he himself drank and flirted with every woman in sight. And then one day, Ashok's eyes had fallen on Raman Bhalla's wife.

Shagun Bhalla née Arora was still a stunner, no doubt about that.

She was not yet twenty five years old when she met Ashok, still in the first dewiness of youth, with a slim almost girlish figure and come hither ways that she used to her advantage. Raman did not know when Shagun's affair with Ashok started – when his wife had first taken the momentous step to cheat on her husband and betray her marriage vows – but he knew it would have been soon after Shagun and Ashok had met at a party thrown by Ashok for his senior managers. He remembered, in hindsight, just how smitten Ashok had seemed with his then wife, how he had showered her with attention. Attention which Shagun had lapped up.

He remembered also how, shortly after the party, Ashok had started to find reasons and excuses to send Raman out of Delhi, and whenever he was at home, how Shagun would make excuses to refuse sex with him. He had been trying to persuade Shagun to have another child, the daughter he longed for, and he remembered how bewildered he had been at the reasons that Shagun would give, the excuses she made, to keep him away from her. She had started to treat him with open disdain, taunting him on his looks, his weight, his dressing style, and his lack of money with which to give her the luxuries she craved.

And worst of all, she had turned his son against him. His little Adi, who had always been spoilt by his mother, was now encouraged by her to ask his father for the most expensive toys and gadgets, things which Raman considered wasteful for a child of five and which he could not afford in any event. He had his sisters and brothers to educate and his father's legal proceedings against his unscrupulous business partners to finance, and there just wasn't the money to waste on frivolities. But Shagun didn't care, and she encouraged Adi to be just like her. Greedy. Grasping.

Every time Raman would say no to one of Adi's outrageous demands, Shagun would use the opportunity to let Adi know that his father did not love him , did not care about him. He had protested, had fought with her, but his bewilderment as to why she was doing what she was doing, why she was turning his son against him, was not answered until the day that Adi turned four, when Shagun had announced that she was leaving Raman, was taking Adi with her.

He had been flabbergasted – never in his wildest dreams could he have imagined that his wife would cheat on him. Yes, she was immature, mean spirited, greedy, but to walk out on her husband for another man, to live with him without marriage – he would never have believed it possible, had it not actually happened to him. And even though he no longer imagined himself in love with her by this stage, her betrayal still devastated him. It brought into question every emotion, every experience over the past five years of their marriage.

In his initial devastation, he had tried to stop her from leaving, from taking his son – but Ashok had sent his goons and had escorted Shagun and Adi out of the Bhalla apartment, throwing a dismissal letter to Raman as he walked out.

So at the age of barely 28, Raman had lost his wife, his son and his livelihood, all in one split moment of time. He had sunk into a deep depression for a couple of weeks, neither eating nor sleeping. But then his family's worry and concern had reminded him that he was not alone in this situation, that he could not afford the selfishness of grieving for what he had lost – he needed to pull himself together, to find another job, to keep food on the table and his siblings in school.

And the very day that he had made the decision to pull his life back together, they had received the news that they had won the court case against his fathers business partners. The money that had been seized by the court, the proceeds of sale of his fathers business, was released back to them. Two weeks after Shagun left, they had regained everything they had lost one month after she had entered their home.

He had thrown himself into developing a business using some of the court awarded money – had used the skills that old Mr Khanna had taught him and the intelligence and business acumen that were his own gifts, to carve himself a niche in the communications and information technology industry. And to everyone's surprise but his own, everything he had touched had turned to gold. He had started investing in new startups as his bank balance grew, and again his touch had been golden, and money had begotten more money.

Aided by Shagun's brother, his former brother in law, Mihir Arora, his business had grown from strength to strength. When the time was right, he had floated some of the stock on the share market and the resulting capital had taken the company further up the ladder of success. In less than six years, he had become successful beyond his wildest dreams.

Work had become everything to him, his success was his raison d'être. He had no time for women beyond casual affairs, strictly sexual relationships which fulfilled a physical need, but did not touch his heart. He no longer believed in love.

And so everything was fine in his life, just the way he wanted it, except for one thing. There was still one thing missing, something that tormented him. Aditya. His son Adi.

For in the first month of their separation, Shagun had instigated Adi to tell the court that Raman physically abused him , was violent to him, and Raman had lost all access to his son. The Family Court had issued a permanent restraining order, and Raman and his family were not allowed any contact with Adi at all. At that time, still in shock, Raman had not been able to muster up the fight to take his son back.

And so six long years had passed. He had continued to try to obtain some level of access to his son, but Shagun and Ashok both seemed to take great delight in thwarting him. There was one weapon that he did have, and he had used it to his advantage – he had refused to allow Shagun to divorce him, filing application after application for access to keep the matrimonial matter unresolved.

Shagun had not been too concerned, because she could not legally marry Ashok in any event – Ashok was legally married to a woman in London who was a mental patient in an asylum. And according to an obscure old English statute, the spouse of a mental patient confined to an asylum could not divorce them. So Shagun had continued to fight him over Adi and they had remained legally married, although he could not stand the sight of her now.

But then something had happened a month ago. Ashok's wife had died. Shagun was now desperate to become Mrs Ashok Khanna and she had re-filed for divorce. Raman's response was that he would not divorce her until he had secured some access to his son, and to his utter surprise and delight, the desperate Shagun had not said no outright. She was "willing to negotiate" according to her lawyer.

The court date was set three weeks hence, and in the meantime, Raman had been under strict instructions from his lawyer, Neil Pathak, to change the habits which Shagun may use against him, to influence the court against him.

"Quit smoking and reduce your drinking Raman bhai" Neil had said bluntly.

This two week retreat at this eco lodge, this health retreat in Simla, was Raman's attempt to give up the unhealthy habits which could perhaps cause an issue in his custody battle for his son.

But he had not realised when he booked the retreat that he would be stuck in the middle of a couples week with a vegetarian Tamilian doctor.

Ishita Iyer.

If she was as severe as her name, then his two weeks of withdrawal from smoking and drinking was about to turn into a blasted nightmare. He had sweet talked the giggly Mona into letting him look at Ishita's registration form, and it was obvious the woman was a humourless upright holier than thou paragon of virtue.

She would be here by now, he realised, as the sun set behind the horizon and the sudden chill in the air reminded him that he was in his shirtsleeves.

It was time to head back to the cottage and meet his Tamilian nemesis, take a shower and have dinner. Tomorrow would be a long day. A very long day.

God, he could do with a smoke and a drink.

"Kahan phas gaya yaar Raman" (What the hell have you let yourself in for Raman) he thought wryly to himself, as he set off on the path back to his cabin.