Chapter One: The Penthouse, the Couple, and a Couple of Incidents

"There is always some madness in love. But there is also some reason in madness."

Friedrich Nietzsche (1844 - 1900), "On Reading and Writing"
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Whatever had to happen was over and done with. What was happenning right now was inconsequential. But what was going to happen had an uncomfortable uncertainty about it. Anandana had never been able to stay silent this long.

The setting, ironically, was near perfect. The living room of a Gurgaon penthouse. The moonlight dancing its way into the room, helped along by a gentle breeze that brought with it the freshness of the open fields nearby. Their recliners were facing the balcony. The leather upholstery added the necessary touches of chic. The coffee table behind them boasted of a bottle of Dom Perignon resting carefully in the ice box, and alongside it lay a packet of Malboro Reds and two almost melted, bitter bars of Lindt. There was a large, almost life sized sketch of a horse hanging on the wall to their left. Most people wondered why it was there, only to find the "Husain" signature on the bottom right of the painting, giving them their answer almost immediately.

The music was loud, thanks to the overly enthusiastic Bose speakers. Or maybe because one of our protagonists was averse to silence today, for the voices in his head were loud, disturbing and desperately searching for an answer. An answer he knew he didn't have.

They sat there staring into the moonlit darkness, each hoping the other would speak.

"Can we listen to some Beethoven instead of this nonsensical trance???", pleaded Anandana, almost yelling.

"The next track is the 5th.", replied Jayant.

"No, now! I'm had enough of nonsensical music for one lifetime", she ordered. As soon as she said that, she started wondering why this word nonsensical had replaced nonsense in her vocabulary. Maybe her friend Ekta had something to do with it.

"Whatever you say!", came the delayed and subdued reply, interrupting her thought. Jayant got up from his recliner and moved lazily towards the remote of the music system which was lying on the sofa. He was relieved she had spoken, it was a good sign.

"And lower the god-damn volume while you're at it!", she yelled, trying to sound as threatning and malicious as she could.

He started smiling almost immediately after she said that. She was angry, and that's exactly why it was going to be ok. Soon she would scream, yell, abuse, punch, kick, break, breakdown and let it all out. That's the way it had always been, at least for the last 2 years since he had known her.

He lowered the volume, changed the track and lit himself a cigarette. Then, very schemingly, he wiped the smile off his face, replacing it with an "I'm so scared of your anger/please don't hurt me" look and went back into the comfort of his recliner.

Ten seconds passed. Jayant took a long drag from his cigarette.

"Don't just sit there and stare into space you good for nothing space bunny!", Anandana screamed. She knew him well, and also knew it was her anger that had prompted this look on his face, an indication that he was willing to play his part.

Everything happened, almost as predicted. Fifteen minutes later she was in his lap, with her head buried into his chest, weeping silently.

The setting, however, was visibly violated. The bottle of champagne had been smashed on to the floor, the melted bars of bitter chocolate were now spread on the sofa, and the packet of cigarettes had been thrown out of the window. There was a cigarette burn on his left arm, close to his wrist. She had never been this violent.

The madness had come to an abrupt halt when she cut herself badly at the heel from a broken piece of the champagne bottle. She collapsed onto the sofa, not being able to bear the pain. Jayant picked her up and carried her till the recliner. As he was putting her down, she refused to let go of him and they fell on each other. Around that time the music had changed from Beethoven's 5th to Crash Into Me, lending a movie-like feel to the already dramatic proceedings.

She lay in his arms weeping, still. And he sat there with his arms around her wondering, when?!? The images of credit cards and thousand rupee notes flashed in front of his eyes.

He caressed Anandana's hair out of restlessness, trying desperately to not think of the kitchen drawer. That's when he realised things weren't going to sort themselves out.

Jayant waited till she had fallen asleep. He then carried her to the bedroom, cautiously avoiding any pieces of glass he might have tripped over. Gently, he placed her on the bed. Before standing up again, he stared at her. The calmness on her face was in striking contrast to the rage she had exhibited not so long ago. Her body was anything but tense, which made him wonder how quickly the muscles had relaxed. He gave her a peck on her forehead, in response to which she smiled and cuddled up a little more. He covered her body with the satin quilt and made his way out of the room, switching of the bedside lamp and closing the door behind him.

If You're Going to San Fransisco echoed in the living room as he made his way to the kitchen.

Without switching on the lights, he opened a drawer and pulled out an expired credit card, a rolled up thousand rupee note and a tiny box filled with something that you or me would write off as salt or crushed sugar.

He went straight into the washroom. Two lines later, he thought of getting a drink and changing the music.

He changed the track, and If You're Going to San Fransisco gave way to Lets Go to Mars.

He went towards the window, with a desire to refresh his nostrils by exposing them to the cool breeze. He could see the Gurgaon skyline in the distance. Below him was a solitary highway, the Gurgaon-Faridabad road. Trucks and tempos were going about their business as always, making noises and avoiding collisions.

Even after the nostrils were rejuvenated he stood there, aimlessly observing the movement of the dots of light below him. The music was exciting him. He needed that drink, now!

He turned around, almost energetically and made his way to the kitchen. He made himself a small whiskey-water and took a huge gulp. The sensation of a liquid in parched throat eased his senses. He picked up the glass and made his way to the bathroom for some more gum numbing.
The moment he got out of the kitchen, he shrieked out of fright and the glass escaped his grip, sending it smashing on to the floor.

There she stood, motionless and enraged.

The music changed to Beethoven's 5th, for a second time that night.