Ours was a love cum arranged marriage. Our parents were family friends and very close to each other. Both families had well established business and in each vacation, both the families went on excursion and the trip would be very enjoyable. After boards, we both moved out of Delhi for further studies and in the meantime, we lost contact with each other. In holidays, we came to Delhi and our families met, but we two never got a chance to interact in five years.
After completion of my BBA with Integrated MBA with specialization in Marketing from University of Bath, my father kept a grand party to celebrate my come back from UK and big shots were invited to the party, it was a show off party from the King of Industrialists showcasing his huge empire and his power roared.
I was a fat chubby girl and a spoiled brat, gracefulness was a far-fetched thing for me and in a way, I was stubborn too, it can be said because my parents attended and fulfilled all my whims, I wasn’t aware with the term “scarcity” in my life. Living in UK for five years in my prime youth, I was totally transformed; my own physique was a surprise for me. I didn’t know I could be so beautiful; mesmerized to see myself in the mirror. With this transformation, there was a remarkable impact in my attitude and I was more confident.
An hour glass figure, hair flowing down from the shoulders with improved structure, soft and silky and flawless complexion n my way of presentation all had changed immensely. I could sense in the eyes of onlookers when my proud father introduced me on dais. All eyes were riveted on me, few surprised at my visage, was I the same fatso of yesterday, Pankhuri.
“Hello, my Princess Fantastico,” greeted Pranav.
“Hi Pranav,” I replied, turning to him.
He was stunned to see me. His expressions were; never seen before. I missed capturing the moments of his awful expressions in my DSLR.
“I just can’t believe it’s my fatso” Pranav taunted.
“Don’t you dare call me so, Pranav else I will scratch your face with my long nails,” I reprimanded showing off my painted nails with the killer red color, accidentally brushing the creases of his shirt.
I don’t know what happened to him. He caught me tight by my elbows and raced me out of the hall taking me into one of the corners of the garden which was dimly lit. For a fraction of second, I couldn’t make out what he was up to. I tried to pull my hand out of his grip, but it wasn’t a fun to pull. I could feel the hardness of his masculine hands and the tightening grip.
“Pankhuri. Don’t tease me.” He whispered near my earlobes, sending shivers throughout. He released me from the grip & disappeared. I was quite embarrassed by his behavior, but couldn’t speak out. I could not make out why I had to face music in his hands, what were his intentions. Numerous queries shrouded my mind and I gaped for the solutions.
To be continued….
© Ila Varma 2016