Passionate Obsession

Crimson Threads of Desire

The spotless clear sky and the promise of a sun-drenched day marked the beginning of another beautiful morning. Today’s weather was soothing to the soul; just looking around filled the heart with delight. After many days, Kritik sat on the bench in the front yard, soaking in the lukewarm rays of the sun and the cool morning air. In his fists he held a coffee cup and an iPad, though his eyes were not on the screen but wandering, unblinking, over the forest of greenery surrounding the house.

Three years ago, believing he would never return to his country, Kritk had bought this small, ultra-modern duplex. Back then he had no idea that after three years his eighteen-year-old little wild-haired girl would first step into this house and live here day and night. If he had known, he might have arranged the décor differently. Aru loves Hello Kitty—how would it have been if he had designed the house with a Hello Kitty theme? He smiled at the thought.

Just then the thread of his strange reverie snapped with the ting-tong of the calling bell at the French gate. Before Kritk could peek to see who it was, Aru herself opened the main door, crossed the front yard and walked straight to the gate. She was wearing a silk pajama in white and pink, her knee-length hair completely unbound like flowing silk.

Seeing Aru in the pajama set he had bought for her gave Kritk a warm feeling. This was the first time he had personally bought something for someone; Aru wearing it today was enough to please him.

Just yesterday evening Aru had limped out of the car after returning from university, only to be stunned into silence. It was the first time she had been to the garage and she hadn’t known about Kritk’s vast collection of bikes. Only one four-wheeler—a Mercedes—stood there; the rest were branded motorcycles. It looked more like a bike showroom. Looking at Kritk in disbelief, she had seen him nonchalantly twirling the key ring in his fingers as he said,

“—There’s a packet in the car. Take it.”

Aru frowned.

“—Whose packet? Mine?”

Without turning, Kritk replied,

“—Whose else?”

“—But suddenly for me?”

Stopping, drawing in a deep breath, Kritk had said,

“—Do you even realize you sleep half-naked?”

“—What!” Aru had cried in shame and anger.

Kritk, still standing where he was, said smoothly,

“—I know. Besides, you’ve no right to betray my trust. I’ve simply arranged to keep things covered. When the time comes, I’ll understand what’s mine and won’t trouble you—then I’ll cover everything with my own hands. And if needed…” He had left the sentence hanging and walked away.

Aru hadn’t understood a word of Kritk’s twisted talk about trust and betrayal. She had simply accepted the gift: ten pajama sets of different colors, obviously expensive, making her drowsy the moment she put one on.

Remembering yesterday, Kritk now bit his lip and smiled to himself. What if I’d lost control yesterday? What if in trying to claim my right I had shattered the wall between us? Would that have been too much?

Meanwhile, Aru, carrying her kitten Dora in her lap, opened the gate. Before her stood a familiar handsome face—more familiar to Anu than to Aru. Holding a bunch of white tulips, dressed in formal attire, wearing his trademark thin-framed glasses, stood Pratyay.

For a few moments Aru simply stared, examining him from head to toe. Pratyay waved his hand to break her daydream.

“—Hello!”

Startled, Aru said,

“—Yes! You’ve come to see my sister, haven’t you? She’s home—come in.”

Pratyay, stepping through the gate, said,

“—Actually I’ve come to see Kritk bhai. I need some urgent signatures on a file. Oh—there he is.”

He pointed at the black bench a few yards away and walked off toward Kritk. Aru ran to fetch Anu outside.

Dragged by Aru, Anu came out in a long kurti and leggings, looking at Pratyay. While Kritk kept working on his iPad, Pratyay couldn’t take his eyes off Anu’s sleepy, angelic face.

Anu scolded Aru for tugging at her,

“—Uff, stop it, Aru. Kritk bhai is sitting there—what will he think if you act like a child?”

“—Come on, he won’t say anything.” Aru still had Dora in one arm.

Anu’s mind drifted to that rainy night when Pratyay had stood with an umbrella outside the hospital. “—You’re here?” she had asked. “—I’m here for you,” he had replied, leading to a simple, rain-soaked coffee date. They hadn’t even known each other’s names but some bell had rung deep inside them both.

Now, standing in the front yard full of soft grass and ornamental trees where sunlight filtered through the leaves, Pratyay faced Anu. Behind her stood Aru with Dora; at a distance Kritk sat with his iPad.

Pratyay offered the tulips.

“—Good morning Miss Ananya Sheikh, I’m Pratyay Ehsan, CFO of JK Group.”

Aru whispered to Anu,

“—Sister, he’s the one who arranged our visas and tickets.”

Pratyay nodded.

“—Yes, that’s right.”

Anu asked,

“—Then you already knew me?”

Pratyay smiled.

“—A little.”

Anu accepted the flowers.

“—Thank you.”

“—Welcome.” His eyes still lingered on hers.

Meanwhile Kritk’s eyes were on Aru, intense, almost predatory. Meeting his gaze made Aru shudder; her skin tingled with a strange sensation deep in her abdomen, something she’d never felt before. She ignored it and said,

“—Hey sis, enough introductions. Let’s eat—then I’ve to go to university and you’ve to visit Mom at the hospital.”

Anu, blushing, hurried inside. Pratyay, embarrassed too, pointed at the kitten,

“—Where did you get the cat? It wasn’t here before.”

Aru stroked Dora’s head.

“—Found her shivering in the backyard last night.”

“—Then?”

Aru glanced sharply at Kritk.

“—Nothing.”

“—By the way, nice cat.”

“—She’s not a cat, she’s my baby Dora.”

“—Crazy,” Kritk’s voice drifted from behind, “why would I give birth to a kitten?”

Aru retorted softly,

“—No one would call you her father either. If you had any love in your heart you wouldn’t have thrown us outside last night.”

Kritk walked up and handed her the iPad.

“—Take this inside, Aru. I’ve some personal matters to discuss with Pratyay.”

Opening the iPad, Aru saw an audiobook—Haunting Adeline.

“—He reads dark romantic books?” she murmured. “Then is he also one of those wild heroes? God help his wife.” She slapped her forehead. “—Ugh, what am I thinking?”

---

Today was the university’s centenary celebration—no classes at all. Yet Aru came hoping to catch a glimpse of Nikhil bhai. But she learned from seniors that Nikhil couldn’t come; all his reports had been destroyed and he had to redo them today or risk failing the semester.

“—Who could do something so bad to a good man like Nikhil bhai?” Aru wondered sadly.

Sleep-deprived, she felt dizzy and decided to return home. Just then Sayani caught her hand,

“—Hey Aru, where are you going? Come see the basketball tournament—alumni from two universities!”

Though Aru wasn’t interested she went along. In the vast gallery Sayani explained,

“—JK sir was also an alumnus—he’ll be playing today.”

Aru looked and saw Kritk, Sayar and Arnav, and in the adjacent gallery Elisha and Kathleen cheering.

“So they were all students here,” she thought.

The match began. By halftime Kritk’s team had already taken the lead. During the ten-minute break Kritk climbed up to the gallery. Without a word he pulled the scarf from Aru’s neck and wiped his sweat with it as if it were a towel.

The whole crowd gasped. Aru burned with embarrassment—every girl’s crush, Rider JK sir, wiping his face with her scarf in public. She wanted to cry out: Believe me, I don’t know why he does this.

“—Give me water,” Kritk said.

“—Mine?”

“—Anyone else’s here?”

She handed him her drink. He downed it and returned to the court.

Adjusting her scarf, Aru caught the scent of sandalwood from the damp patch and felt a strange shiver.

“—You know JK sir?” Sayani asked.

“—No… I mean yes… I mean…” Aru stammered.

“—If you know him say so.”

“—He’s my… my stepbrother,” Aru admitted.

Sayani squeezed her hand.

“—It’s okay, Aru. Don’t worry.”

---

The day went well but by evening, while preparing to go home, Aru suddenly thought she saw Nikhil arriving with a foreign woman. Laughing and holding her by the waist, he looked like a lover from another life.

Dizziness overtook Aru; the campus turned into a black hole and a buzzing noise filled her ears. She collapsed before she could fall completely—caught in Nikhil’s arms.

“—Don’t touch her,” a velvet-smooth but commanding voice cut through the crowd.

Kritk emerged, snatched Aru from Nikhil’s arms like a hawk and held her, his eyes blazing. Nikhil couldn’t meet his gaze.

---

At the university’s emergency clinic Kritk stood in the corridor, sleeves rolled up, hair disheveled, his fair face flushed with anger. Sayar rushed in.

“—What happened to Aru?”

“—Sleep and eating irregularities caused her to faint,” Kritk said flatly.

Sayar laughed scornfully.

“—Seriously JK? In a few days you’ve tortured the girl into collapse. What’s your grudge against her anyway? Isn’t she your sister?”

Before he could finish, Kritk grabbed Sayar’s collar and slammed him against the wall. The word sister had triggered molten lava in his brain.

“—Don’t you dare call her my sister. She’s not my sister. I can’t even imagine her as such in my worst nightmares. She’s more important to me than anyone. I don’t know what she is to me—but I know I’d forget to breathe without her.”

Sayar stared wide-eyed. Just then Nikhil entered from the other side. Kritk glanced at him and said to Sayar,

“—Get him out of here.”

As Sayar led Nikhil away he realized he had been wrong all along—Kritk didn’t hate Aru. He was obsessively, perhaps dangerously, attached to her. Was it addiction? Or a severe romantic fixation?