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Ragini stared at her plate; her usual impassive face betrayed no emotion as she heard Swara blabber at the breakfast table. She could make out that Swara was trying to balance her urge to discuss what she had learnt and the need to maintain confidentiality. She also knew that it was a difficult battle for Swara, for Swara could rarely keep anything to herself and for once she found herself in a similar situation, as she swayed between wanting to know what Swara had learnt and hoping that Swara had not found it all. She almost froze when she finally tuned into the conversation and heard Swara say that she had met three of them and would learn about the fourth today.

As Swara recited the names, Ragini tried to maintain her calm expression, though her mind could not stop labeling them as Swara named them,

"S is for Sanskaar Maheshwari," 'friend, mentor and guide'

"L is for Laksh Jindal," 'friend and the love of her life'

"N is for Nikita Mehrothra," 'friend and soul sister'

"And S is for Siddharth Mehrothra," 'friend and partner in crime'

"I have found out about all of them though none of them let me know about the fifth person..R..." 'Ragini Gadodia, unwanted daughter, sister's keeper and forsaken friend.'

"... though I suspect it could be Ram Prasad Maheshwari, makes sense in a way that his name is included in the entity that takes over the Maheshwari Enterprises, and there would be less of legal complications too. However, I am not too convinced; I keep feeling that there is something else, something that I am missing"—

Swara looked surprised when Ragini let her spoon clatter to the plate and it changed to shock for Ragini had not only dropped the spoon, she had decided to leave the meal unfinished. She then looked at the others, her father with a strange smugness on his face with a faint glimmer of victory shining in his eyes; her mother who had let out a startled gasp at Ragini's abrupt departure had tears in her eyes and then at her grandfather, whose face was blotched with worry and understanding.

Swara squeezed her eyes closed, she realised that Ragini had left the table for she was angry and felt that it was because of her and her inability to keep confidentiality. She almost got up to follow her sister, when she caught her grandfather's eye and sat back, finishing off her breakfast in silence, hoping that her lapse in letting slip the names would not create any other issue. She also wanted to talk to her sister but decided to do so after the meeting with Tanisha.

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Deen Dayal Gadodia looked at his elder granddaughter, the one who always had tears; for joy or for sorrow, for happiness or laughter, over books and movies, the one who cried for everything; Ragini had been free with her tears. She was not ashamed of her habit of breaking into tears, rather she would boast that her tears were proof of her sensitivity, he loved her for that, that she could take her weakness and display it as a mark of strength. And it had been strength, till that day, eight years ago.

The Fabulous Five; that was what they called themselves; a tight group where no one else was allowed in, a group that had been together almost all their lives till that one fateful night; the night when Ragini gained her sister but lost everything else. As he watched her, he wished he had put his foot down a little firmly when Shekar had wanted her to switch schools, he knew his son might have Ragini's interests at heart but his decision was motivated more by a desire to keep up with the Maheshwaris and he felt that the new school, though good and reputed, might be tiring for her. He would have preferred the school closer to their home, but when his wife sided with his son, he knew that there would be no point in making any objections.

He remembered the day, a bright sunny school day when he had gone with the whole family to drop Ragini off; they had their own reasons though all agreed that since they were shifting her between schools, she might be reassured if all of them were there to see her off. Ragini had her usually teary face, for the new school both excited and frightened her, but before she could make up her mind as to what she had to cry for, they heard a loud wail and looked to see a young girl, most probably around Ragini's age who was clinging to her mother and refusing to go inside. Everyone's attention seemed to be on her and even Ragini forgot to cry as they watched the girl howl and the parents try to reason with her. The girl had come with a large family, it appeared, for apart from her parents there were three boys, all older than her, a girl who was around ten years old and another couple, all of whom stood wondering how to quiet the girl.

Deen Dayal could never know what prompted Ragini to walk towards that group and what she spoke to the little girl, but a few minutes later all the kids were walking inside and Ragini had gone in without even turning back to wave them goodbye. It was also the start of their friendship. In the evening Ragini told her grandfather that the girl's name was Nikita and that she had promised to be with her while Niki had promised to always wait for Ragini.

It was a promise that Nikita kept throughout her life, she would always wait for Ragini, at school, college, home, everywhere, she was waiting for Ragini to get engaged before she formalised her engagement with Sanskaar and she had battled death to wait for Ragini to reach her. He wiped out the tear that rolled down, if only he had been of a firmer will; he should have never allowed her to change schools and they would never have met; he should be been a vocal supporter of her decision to marry Laksh, then maybe Nikita and Sanskaar would have married and not been in that accident; he should have held her and forced her to cry when Nikita had died rather than stand aside; he should have...the list was a never ending one, he thought and though he had finally stood up for her in the Sahil fiasco he always felt that it was a case of 'too little, too late.'

He walked in slowly, his cane tapping softly against the floor, though it echoed in the silence. He sat down in the chair against the desk and watch Ragini as she stood staring out of the window, her fists clenched and her shoulders taunt, she would not cry, she was not going to cry, even though it was what she needed to do.

"What was it that they called you, beta? Lach.."

"Lachrymose, because I was such a cry baby and refused to be called as one."

"Beta, cry it out. Let it go, do not hold it so much, maybe it will make things better."

She shook her head, she had vowed never to cry again, that was her way of punishing herself, she would never accept the relief that tears would bring; she had gone so many years without crying and had accepted that it was what she deserved.

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Swara and Udayan walked into the room that would have been Nikita's and which, in a way, was still hers. And as it was not a formal interview, Swara was dressed in her standard style; wearing full wide, high waist, mid-calf length A-skirt in a solid dull maroon, which she paired with a high neck blouse in lacy sage green. She was confident she had chosen well, considering that she had not sought Ragini's opinion and had been flattered when Udayan had complimented her. Her elation lasted till she saw the impeccable Tanisha, who had elected to wear a pale tussar saree and looked elegant and beautiful. Unable to stop that rush of envy and admiration, she exclaimed, "Ma'am, you look wonderful and here am I..." 

She looked down at her skirt, convinced that she was gaudy and garish when Tanisha completed her line, "...looking bright and beautiful, just what we need to infuse some sparkle into this office full of oldies."

Swara laughed, warming up to her praise. And then sobered up, when she realised that she had no clue as to why they were sitting in Nikita's room, a room that Swara noticed was similar to the other three rooms, the difference being that the accents were in pink, a dull pink, which surprisingly went very well with the sombre grey. In a corner was a large pot of Saintpaulia plant, commonly known as African violets, though the plant with the blossoming pink flowers, was surely picked for the pink colour. And on the wall, was a framed photograph of Sanskaar and Nikita, who was dressed in pink. Yes, pink was definitely, her favourite colour, thought Swara.

She looked in askance at Tanisha, who seemed to be in no hurry to enlighten them either. After what seemed to be a long time spent over tea and biscuits, during which Tanisha and Udayan carried out small talk, which though interesting had Swara turn impatient and she almost let out a sigh of relief when Tanisha held out an envelope for them.

"I have not given answers to each of the questions; I did not know her that well, so you might have to find out on your own. I have just summarised what I could and hope it is helpful. She was a nice cheerful person, it is a crime that she died so young. "

Swara took the envelope and placed it aside, she would read it at the office or home and was about to leave, when Tanisha handed her a CD case, which had her burst out, "Nikita could sing?"

Tanisha laughed, "Oh no, she could not and thank your stars she was not inclined to do so, she could not carry a tune. But then she had a wonderful voice to read stories in, she would start and everyone would be enthralled, it did not matter what the story was, you simply had to listen to her, she could transport you to the land of the story be it a fairy tale or fantasy story, be it any genre. It was a gift and Sanskaar would record hours of her telling stories, especially those for children," Tanisha almost let a tear roll, "they loved children and..."

Udayan reached over to take the case while Swara placed a hand on Tanisha's hand, hoping that gesture would be enough for she could not find any words of comfort. Tanisha shook her head and clasping Swara's hand, said, "Well, I cannot tell you who 'R' is but then I want to tell you something else, you are a sweet child—"

"Ma..am"

Tanisha smiled at Swara's protest, "—Considering that I more than twice as old as you are, it is with reference to my age rather than pointing out yours. All I want to say is that you are sweet chi...woman with a large heart, but at times it is preferable to having an open mind to having a large heart. Hearts are emotional and blind us to the possibilities, minds are cold but sensitive to probabilities.Can you remember that?"

And surprising Swara and herself too, Tanisha stepped forward and gave Swara a quick hug before bidding them goodbye.

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Ragini thought about the acronym – SNLRS – the one that puzzled and tormented her father and his business 'acquaintance'. She was glad that her father did not have much of an opinion about her, for he could never even guess, but now with Swara having blurted out the names, he might be able to put it together. Though she had been as shocked as her father when she heard about it, she could not believe that they would use that acronym or that company; not after what had happened with them.

She had adored her sister from the minute Swara had been born, people saw a blue baby, Ragini saw a tiny perfect baby, different from the rest by being blue and hence unique. She had stepped into her big sister mode and knew that she would be one even if Swara grew to a hundred years. Her parents worried about Swara and often cried during the successive surgeries; Ragini cried too but never before Swara, she was brave and strong for Swara. When Swara was fourteen they  got the appointment for her final surgery at the Johns Hopkins Hospital at Baltimore, Maryland. It promised to the the last one that Swara would need and had all of them rejoicing.

The weeks leading up to the date of the schedule surgery had been hectic and frustrating, with her torn between the need to be in India to sign off the papers and complete the formalities for starting SNLRS and her wish to be by her sister's side. Her mother tried to understand while her father refused to accept Ragini not being with them despite everyone knowing that there was nothing she could do. It did not help that they wanted to keep their plan of starting a company a secret  and hence all the more difficult for Ragini to convince her father that she needed to be in India for a few more days.

She had flown to Baltimore ten days before the surgery and spent all the time possible with Swara, who seemed to be the bravest of them and the least worried about the surgery. Ragini had been brave too, though as the date neared, she felt the faint stirring of dread and she worried, though careful not to let it show. And the texts from her friends perked her up, though she had to be careful not to laugh too much, Swara loved it when she laughed and would join it without even knowing why but then her father knew what that source of laughter was and he hated it.

When the day of the surgery dawned, Ragini had her first premonition that something could go wrong. Ragini received the message that the paperwork was completed and that SNLRS was finally in existence; it was a good omen she felt. However, as the day progressed and the hours extended, she started to worry and unable to stay in the stuffy corridors, hearing her mother sniffle continuously, she searched for a place she could wait in silent solitude.

The nurse was a kindly woman, who directed her to the tiny room that served as a chapel and promised to inform Ragini once the surgery was done, reiterating that her sister would make it through. Ragini still spent all the time crying, hoping that the nurse was right. When the news of the successful surgery reached her, she continued to cry, in relief and joy and reached for her mobile phone; she had to tell them before she went to see Swara.

Her joy doubled when she saw the text message 'Going for a drive with Sanskaar...' though she had received it a couple of hours ago, she smiled as she typed a reply 'Ask him to keep his hands on the wheel and his eyes on the road...'

She calculated the time difference and decided to risk calling, it was already close to midnight at India, but they would share her happiness. With trembling fingers, she dialled a number and her expectant glow changed to anxiety as her call went unanswered for the fifth time, it was unlikely for her calls to go unanswered. She dialled another number and then another and finally a third one, two came 'not answering' and the third returned a 'switched off' message. Her joy faded a little as disquiet took over and her heart filled with apprehension. Chastising herself for imagining the worst, and torn between joy and anxiety, she decided to resume her calls later in the day after seeing Swara.

When her calls continued to go answered, from all of them, she went frantic with worry and called her grandfather, who met with the same result. Finally, he had opened his diary, and scrolling through the list, picked out Meghna's number, who broke the news to him and which he conveyed to Ragini, hiding both the near fatality of the accident and the death of Ram Prasad. It had not stopped her from coming, nothing did, once she assured herself that Swara was fine and would recover completely, she decided to fly back.

It had taken her forty hours of circuitous flying to land in Kolkata and she had rushed to the hospital only to find Nikita waiting for her, waiting to die. And when Nikita breathed her last she had staggered out of the room, wondering where everyone else was, only to learn that Ram uncle had died from a heart attack. Fatigued from the journey, tired from the sleepless nights she had spent before Swara's surgery, she had crumbled on seeing and learning of their deaths. 

But that could never condone what she had done next.

She should have waited with her Dadaji, who had tried to hold her and insisted that she cry it out, she should have waited for Laksh or Sid to come and tell her what had happened, she should have waited for Anu Ma to take her in her arms and comfort her, but she had done nothing of that sort. All she could see was Niki's hand reach for her before falling lifelessly, all she could remember was the text message, 'Going for a drive with Sanskaar...'

Ragini could remember all the hurtful words that she had hurled at Sanskaar, without even realising that since he was in the critical ICU, he would be suffering physically too. And since she could not find it in her to forgive herself, she resorted to punishing herself. After the night that she had cried when Laksh had issued his ultimatum, she resolved never to cry again; instead she buried herself in the newspaper and the magazine. In the initial years, she had been puzzled as to why the news of Sanskaar's accident and the deaths of Niki and Ram had not made much of a stir but then it had been too heart breaking for her to pry out the reasons. She shut herself up, donning the façade of a successful strong woman with an ease that belied the perpetual storm within her. 

And here ends Facade which seems to be more about Ragini, I had to curtail Nikita's story, for the length had already crossed 3000 words and I hope I have not bored you. Do let me know about this update, nothing very new for most would have pieced what had happened but I hope that this gives a better insight into Ragini.

The next update would be Swara and Sanskaar, and the collision between them, sort of, both aided and abetted by their respective friends. For if the road to hell is paved by good intentions then ill intentions simply hasten the journey, as other secrets and hidden motives come into play. More of that in the next chapter- Sting.

love,
Nyna