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Audio Theme : Seyahat  | Yali Capkini |

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08 | Head-to-Head

A week had passed since the incident at the hotel. The only sounds audible in the house in these seven days were Anirudh's squeals and blabbering.

Mahadevan didn't know if Hinduja was genuinely busy in work, as she told him, or she was just plainly avoiding him. She would wake up before anyone else, make breakfast and lunch for them all, wake Anirudh up, do all his chores and feed him his breakfast, then she would get ready herself, have her own breakfast and keep his own share of the morning meal plus his nutrient dense lunch pail on the kitchen countertop. By that time, Geeta would arrive and take charge of Anirudh and all the other household chores from there, following which Hinduja would rush to her office. All this would happen before seven in the morning, so by the time he woke up, she would be gone.

She would video call Geeta in the afternoon to check up on Anirudh. In the evenings, dinner was either prepared by Hinduja herself if she was on time, or Geeta would prepare it if Hinduja was late. She would come home by eight-thirty at night, they would all have their dinner, following which Geetanjali would then wash all the dishes while Hinduja hand-washed Anirudh's clothes, played with Anirudh for some time, put him to sleep after which she would be off to the spare room which was used by her as an office. There was basically no interaction between them at all. He didn't know if this affected her at all or not because it was clearly not visible through her actions or her countenance, but this silence between them was gravely affecting him.

During the initial years of him working in the corporate sector, he had a paucity of money. Going against everyone in the family, his grandfather sent him off into the fiercely ruthless and competitive world on his own.

"If he wants to go to college, he has to earn it! I won't give him a penny as donation for his higher education, neither will you or his mother!"

Hence, under the old man's watchful eye, he had burnt the midnight oil every day to clear the entrance exam.

In college again, his grandfather closely monitored his progress every day, every week, every month, and every year. His parents strictly abided by the senior Dogra's words. Hence, not a rupee from their bank accounts was transferred to the college administration as his college fee. His entire higher education was solely funded through scholarships, study loans, and the money he earned by doing odd jobs here and there.

With strictly no financial support from his family and no powerplay from their side, he had climbed up the stairs of the cruel business hierarchy alone. Sure, he had a considerable salary package transferred into his bank account at the end of every month, but only one-fourth of it remained by the end of the first week of the month. The rent of his accommodation, the installments of his student loan, he didn't even own a vehicle at that time so the commutation fee, electricity bill, water bill, groceries, gas—once an avid lover of restaurant food and high end fast food chains—he had learnt the essential skill of cooking to fill his stomach, washing his own clothes, mopping and sweeping, simply being unable to afford any of those luxuries he had earlier. And that's how from the shadows of a protected and silk-stocked young boy surrounded with several housekeepers and opulence all around him, emerged a responsible, principled, and cultured man of honour. A man who knew what the real world was like beyond the lofty and potent barricades of the Dogra manor, a man who was cognizant of the value of money, the calibre of all his privileges by birth and for sure a man who understood the worth of his individuality; his identity.

As old as he was, his grandfather was experienced. He knew exactly what he was doing.

"Confiscate all his credit cards, his devices, cars, everything! And send the boy alone and see how he turns himself into a diamond from the lump of coal that he is now. I know my blood, he'll do just fine!"

In a nutshell, more than a decade ago, he was absolutely nothing without his family fortune and name.

Oh, how farsighted the old man was!

Today his identity just didn't revolve around being the late Giriraj Dogra and Gayatri Dogra's grandson. Today it's much more than that. Today he takes pride in being the construction giant and business mogul Mahadevan Dogra.

Today, he can appoint as many house help as his wife needs, so that she doesn't have to worry about the household chores and the meal preparation at all, but that little woman was strange. She only ever allowed Geeta to be appointed as Anirudh's caretaker that too, only because she was worried Anirudh would be alone at home when both of them were at work. The reason behind this was something still not known to him. He was worried sick after seeing how much burden she carried every day, first all that office work , then the household chores and then a toddler - just bravo! She sure was an excellent multi-tasker!

He tried to help as much as he could, but she was fast and smart, somehow tricking him and finishing all the tasks alone, and then, there was that silence of hers.

He was a reserved man himself. Wasn't that enough? His wife also had to be a mystery maven?

But these days, it felt as if she was always engrossed in some ultra deep thoughts.

In its true essence, in all these days of quietude, it felt as if they were again back to the initial phase of their marriage; silence being his constant friend. And this was something that he absolutely abhorred.

He missed their tea sessions at night, he missed their conversations, he yearned sitting next to her and being able to smell her, her familiar bodily essence that comforted him in the most tense of the days. He missed her, He missed 'them'. The nights were the only respite wherein he would move closer to her after making sure she was deep in sleep, place his head next to the crook of her neck, inhale her essence, gaze at her as much as he wanted without feeling awkward and calm himself down after a long and tiring day.

Seven fucking days.

But now, it was enough!

He was known to be a man of patience but not in his wife's case though. That alluring woman was an exception.

He knew he had to take charge now.

A knock on his office cabin's door brought him out of his reverie.

Manoramaa Pandit, his assistant, walked in, and following just behind her was Karim - his most trusted man; confidante, his bodyguard and chief security advisor.

"Sahib."

"Sir."

Two crisp and serious tones echoed in his office with their heads bowed.

"What happened? Manoramaa, anything I need to be worried about?"

"No, sir. I am here to provide you with updates regarding the Guangzhou Convention Center deal we signed last month." The five-foot-eight woman dressed in black formals answered back in her regular professionally tempered voice.

"What now? The cost?" Curiosity with a mix of seriousness shadowed his mind.

"The cost is exactly what we surmised before, sir—eight thousand crores in Indian currency, so there is no issue about that. In fact, there is no issue at all. We have good news. It's a clean chit both from the Indian side and the Chinese side. The external affairs ministry has approved of the project. We got the official news just now." Manoramaa took two steps forward, placed the hard-bound black coloured file she carried with herself in front of him on his table, and then took two steps back to her initial position. "Just a few official signatures here and there, and we are good to go with our plans in a week or two. The Chinese are trying to contact us for a meeting with you, though." She enunciated.

"That's good." Came his short reply, "Arrange a meeting with Mr. Manishankar on Thursday, next week. I don't want any more hindrances. Let's finish this off in a week's worth of time. As for the Chinese, let them wait, because if they aren't desperate, they aren't interested, for desperation is the raw material of drastic changes. I'll inform you later about when to entertain their requests, alright?" Playing with the platinum wedding band on his ring finger, he directed in a clipped tone.

Manoramaa nodded back with a quick word of affirmation.

Because that's exactly what one should do. When the sovereign of the Dogra Empire commands, you adhere to his directives—with or without your will, you comply with him. Because that's who this man was—every expression that leaves his mouth, every single motion of his phalanges, every intention in his shrewd cognac globes—an issued decree for the surrounding folks. You don't pick up the gauntlet against him; no one does and that's how much authority he holds. It's the way he carries himself; it's his aura—so regal, so commanding, so controlling, and so formidable that you have to bend the knee and bow; you just have to. Because that's who this man was, a virtuous visionary in his own right, an enigma with the final say in a room packed with the most puissant men, the ultimate power above the rule of law.

Mahadevan Dogra

"You can take your leave, Manoramaa." He commanded with a wave of his hand.

"Yes, sir."

With a slight bow of her head, she turned around and walked off, closing his office door behind her.

His attention was now solely centred on Karim whom he signalled with a tilt of his chin to start speaking.

"Sahib, Madam has just returned from a site visit to her office now." The

"Okay." Flexing his brawny arms, he got up to collect his blazer from the stand nearby. " I'll drive on my own. You stay back."

"But Sahib, your security—" Mahadevan who was standing next to the coat stand, religiously adjusting the lapels of his double-breasted blazer, turned around to look directly into the eyes of the man in black standing opposite to him, exactly four metres away as the said man abruptly halted the words rolling off his tongue, immediately standing in an attentive position.

"I said, I'll drive myself, Karim. You and the security team stay back here. Am I not trained well enough to tackle security threatening situations? " He asked, amusement coating his tone, his right eyebrow imperceptibly uplifted.

"Of course Sahib, you are. There is certainly no doubt in that." Karim replied back truthfully with conviction.

"Then, please do the needful, Karim." Securing the 'H' monogram inscribed Gold cufflinks, he started walking towards the door. "Yeah?"

"Sure, Sahib."

Twenty minutes later, a sleek black Rolls Royce Phantom rolled down on the roads of the National Capital Region.

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"Hey Siri, call my wife."

Taking a left turn, he drove the car through the busy Delhi road.

The A.I. placed the call as per his direction as he waited for her to pick up his call, which she did after exactly seven rings.

"Hello? Dogra sahib?" Her soft and gentle voice echoed in the car as he sighed in relief; courtesy - her voice!

Did this woman even know about the extent of her power over him?

Gaining control over his senses, he cleared his throat.

"I am coming to your office. Clear up your schedule. We need to talk." He emphasised.

"Wait, what?!" He could easily detect the sudden shock she felt but was trying to subdue. "You are coming to my office? Now? Like right now?!"

God damn, this woman was always calm, so calm that now that he heard her absolutely stunned tone, he was amused! He wondered what she would sound like when angry. "Yes." He replied back.

"No, you can't!" He heard a thud in the background. "Oh my God! You can't!"

"What was that noise, Inu? You fell down? Are you okay?" He couldn't help but be worried.

"Oh no, that was just the vase that I knocked off with my hands by mistake." He heard the sound of her zipping her tote bag. "Dogra sahib, you can't come here! Stay where you are, text me your current location; I'll come there, but you don't come here!"

"What? Why? —No! I am going there." Irritation was evident in the way he spoke.

"Just. do. as. I. say dammit! If by chance you fail to do as I say and come to my office even after my continuous denial, and due to this foolish act of yours, my little boy comes under any sort of risk—hear. me. out. fair and square Mahadevan Dogra—YOU. WILL. WITNESS. THE. WORST. SIDE. OF. MINE! DID. YOU. GET. THAT?" Each word roared in a voice so commandingly compelling that the man in question had to immediately push on the brakes.

And that's exactly what a sane man does.

Mahadevan Dogra may have the entire realm bow down to him but the only person who held the power, the authority to make this formidable man—so regal and authoritative in his bearing—to bow down to her was Hinduja Rao-Dogra. And, yet, how ironic it was! for the woman had absolutely no idea about it.

"Okay, I am just twenty minutes away from my office. How about we meet there? Will that be okay with you?" He asked.

"That can be considered. Wait a minute, let me check." She switched back to her calm and gentle tone again, and then he heard the ringing of an office bell.

"Yes, Madam, you summoned me?" The voice of another man was audible from the other side of the phone.

"Are they still on trail?" And there it was again—that 'I am the one who possesses the highest voice of authority here' tone of hers.

"No ma'am, I just checked, none of them are on our trail at the current moment. I think the fact that you made no movement from your side must have caused this. Moreover, they were uncertain about you from the beginning."

His brows furrowed as he heard what the man said on the other side.

"Care. to. tell. me. what. the. heck. is happening, woman?! Who is on your trail?! Just what the fuck is going on?!" He hit the steering wheel with a thud in frustration and worry.

She was in danger?

It appears that someone out there harboured a death wish.

"I'll explain everything to you, Dogra sahib, just some time more. I am going there." She replied to him and then he heard her directing her attention back to the other man, "Alright then, Bakhtawar, ask the valet to take my car out, and yes, ask him to take my private vehicle out, not the government authorised one. I need to go somewhere urgently and I need to go alone. Make sure of that, clear?"

"Crystal, madam."

They were still on call, the reason why he could hear the closing of the door and then her sigh.

"I am going to your office, meet me there." She paused and then continued, "And Dogra sahib, is there any lift in the underground parking area of your office that leads directly to your personal cabin? or any other way in which I can reach you without garnering any attention; I want my identity hidden."

"Just, what is happening, Hinduja? You are worrying me now!"

"Please, Dogra sahib—I am coming there, aren't I? Just be a bit more patient."

He sighed and massaged his glabella.

"Okay. The Dogra Empire Headquarters are constructed on a two hundred-acre fenced land, Inu. It's detached from the entire National Capital Region. Do this thing; you drive to its Southern gate via the Maharana Marg and just be seated inside your vehicle only. I'll ask Karim to escort you from there. I assure you that no one will know your identity." He paused, "And, what vehicle are you driving?"

"It's a black Mahindra Scorpio." She replied.

"Alright, I am waiting here for you. And Inu?"

"Yes?"

"I need answers. I can't compromise with your safety."

"Alright." She hung up.

He was a mess of mixed emotions.

One side of him was worried sick for her, of matters regarding her completely unknown to him. The other side, on the other hand, was pathetically hot, bothered, and turned on by how commanding her voice sounded and how dominantly she exercised her authority over him.

Just how unhinged was he to even think of her in 'that' manner while she was literally blasting up on him in unrestrained fury?!

But whom was he even deceiving? That woman, on the other side, was his wife. Just a sliver of her voice or a whiff of her essence, or just even an imperceptible sight of her enchanting visage, was enough for him to turn into a maniacal hot-blooded bastard.

He knew he was an eerily territorial—scratch that—an utterly obsessed and proprietorial psycho; that's what he was, but she doesn't have to know that, does she?

Oh, sweet lord! He was so thankful that she was completely oblivious to this side of him.

But what bothered him equally was—What the f*** was the man whom he deployed for her security doing?! And who was trailing his wife?! Because whoever it was, should now be ready for a war, for bloodshed was not something Mahadevan Dogra had ever been apprehensive of.

Forget about physically harming her, no fucking entity in this realm should even contemplate harming her, for that might be the last day of his/her life.

In business he always followed the rule of being morally ethical—at least that's what the media portrayed; okay, maybe a few acts of manipulation here and there—but in real life only he knew how deranged he was, especially about her; his wife.

He had absolutely no qualms in unaliving vile creatures harbouring ill intentions for his woman.

He had his way with everything, and it must always subsist like that.

Exactly forty minutes later, Karim was escorting Hinduja into her husband's private office.

It was time for a much needed head-to-head confrontation about all recent events starting from the hotel incident.

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