Forced Travelling

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Mahira Khan as Ridhima ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••


"You are coming with me. Why would you think I will leave you behind?"

If I was a teenager, I would stomp my foot and then go on a mad rampage.

But I have to pretend to be sane, while I live with this insane man!

"I don't want to go with you!" I whine.
"You don't get to have a choice" he says ignoring me. I can see a devilish curve, on the side of his lips, which can be accused of being a smirk but since his whole face is not in my line of sight, I can't be too sure.

"What about the flight bookings? You only got it done for one person." I try reasoning.

"The booking was for you." He says, going back into the walk-in wardrobe of his to retrieve more clothes.

"Then how will you go? Don't tell me you are planning on sitting on my lap, you are too old for that" I yell it out to him.

He emerges out of the wardrobe with another set of dress pants and some shirts.
So far he has not kept anything but suit pants and button up shirts.
"I own the airlines we are going from, why would I have to book a seat for myself?"

Say what?
"You own an entire airline? Like the Kingfisher thing?" I ask him dumb founded, I thought he had a business of some clothing brand or something. I voice that out too.

"I don't own Kingfisher Airlines, I own the Indijet Airways. I have expanded it all in different fields initially it was only the clothing, but now it is a variety."
He says thoughtfully. But still going about his business. I also saw him keep under wears while he explained all this to me.

"But I still can't go."

"As I said, you don't have a choice, start your packing, I hate repeating my self" it is probably the first time in three weeks, Karan has held such a long conversation with me.

"What about the Visa? What about my passport. I don't have one. And what if I have a medical condition which doesn't allow me to go on aeroplanes?" I flail my arms around to somehow make him understand that I can't go.

"I am an American Citizen, as I have been born and brought up there. Being my wife you automatically get the green card. Your passport has been made. And about the medical condition....didn't think about it." He says so casually, as if not telling me that, he was actually an American Citizen and is probably stalking my past life and forgetting to think about my welfare, is very natural.

"You are American!"
"Yes"
"You got a passport made? For me!"

"Yes"
"I am an American citizen too, because I married you?"

"Yes"

"You want to take me to America with you?"

"Yes"

"You won't let me stay here?"

"Ye-no!"

"But you hate me? Why do you even want to take me along!?"

"Because."

"Why!?"

"Just because."

And that conversation ended there. And as it is clear as day - although it is night time now - that I didn't get any of my answers properly.

I ended up in front of my belongings - which were still packed in suitcases as Karan had not let me settle in his room with him - and started packing.

My packing included, making the horizontally lying suitcase to stand vertically beside Karan's packed bag.

In the end, Karan's belongings fit in one bag and I had four bags of my belongings.

Four huge suitcases.

I think Karan was not expecting that kind of intense packing because , when he came back in the room he paused in front of the bags, frowned in confusion and asked me what they were.

"You asked me to pack. Didn't you?"
"I asked you to pack, not empty your wardrobe!"

"I don't have a wardrobe, as you have not let me put any of my belongings anywhere in your room but in a corner." I point it out to him, mater of factly.

"Don't test my patience make these four bags, one." Karan said rubbing two fingers on his forehead, as if talking to me gave him a migraine.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "They all are important things, I might need there."

"You know what? " Karan says impatiently "I was trying to be nice but seems like you don't have the decency to follow simple instructions." I huff at him and open my mouth to insult him with something more insulting, but he continues " and since you can't pack your things I will have to do that for you."
And with that he lifts one of my bags, places them horizontally on the bed and opens the zip.

"What are these? Why do you have a whole bad filled with footwear!?" Karan's voice is horrified as if having many shoes is an abominable crime.

"I like matching my footwear with my clothes."

"Take any two of these, the rest stays here." Karan says and picks up the bag, places it on the floor and puts the next one in it's place and opens it.

"Thank God it is clothes." Then he opens the next one "clothes again! You have two bags full of clothes! You don't need so many there. Take two or three of these and some party wear."

I huff indignantly and cross my arms across my chest.

"What if I need them in America? Or are we going for a short while?"

"They do have shopping malls in America. You do know that, right?"
My eyes light up with excitement and I give him a big grin jumping closer to him from where I am sitting on the sofa and almost go over to sit on the bed with him but catch myself.
"That  means you will take me shopping?"

Karan moves his eyes away and says " I'll let you go shopping."

I pout but say nothing.

Karan fell asleep shortly after packing my bag for me. He arranged my clothes, shoes, cosmetics, toiletries and other things in one bag and kept it beside his and fell asleep.

I must admit though, I have never been as embarrassed as I was while he was packing my underwear. I almost snatched all the stuff off his hands.
Keyword being, almost. I didn't do it. I just say there, looked away and blushed the hell out.
Even my brown, tanned skin was pink all over.

Karan, on the other hand, was so nonchalant about it, urgh! It made me more embarrassed.
•••••••••

I might have not mentioned it, but I HATE waking up at the ungodly times of the day. And I hate the people who make me do that, more.

The receiver of my hatred, right now is my husband, Karan Sing-fücking-hania.

"I am going to the bathroom, one of the servants will come to fetch the bags, give it to them. And while I am getting ready, you can pack a smaller hand bag, put the necessary things in it, medicines, water, and some snacks." If Karan noticed my glare, he payed no heed to it. As he sprouted instructions, out of that extremely good looking and inviting mouth of his, I was contemplating how I will kill him.

I say nothing, while Karan picks up clothes and locks himself in the bathroom.

This one month with Karan has taught me, that he takes a long time to get ready. And I am going to take advantage of that.

While he was in the washroom, I fell back on the couch and sleep welcomed me.

"......up! Ridhima, Wake up or I swear I will throw water on you again." Someone's voice keeps saying that.

I am already up. What is wrong? This man is disturbing my meet and greet session with Beyoncé. I love you Beyoncé. I want to sing with you in the next concert.

"Wake up" Beyoncé replies.
"Is that the new song you are working on?" I ask her but I don't know why my voice sounds woozy to me, as if I am drunk or very tired.

Beyoncé shakes her head, No.

"You want me to wake up?" I ask her.

"Wake up" she says.

Suddenly and earthquake comes and I loose balance, but before I could fall, I opened my eyes, and Karan's face greets me.

And I realise, after a while he is shaking me.
I sit upright. And rub my eyes.
Looking in the digital clock, hung in Karan's room, I see that it is 5:30am now.

I fell back asleep at 4:00am. I slept for one and a half hour.

Looking around I notice, our bags are not here and one of my handbags are kept on the coffee table in front of me, beside which is a plate of sandwiches, and a cup of coffee.
Get ready, have breakfast and then we'll leave. Our flight is at 6:45am, we leave at 6:00.

I nod and go to the bathroom.
It doesn't strike me until I am in the shower idling, and thinking, that Karan took one and a half hour to get ready. Damn he is slow.

And then I realise , while I am wrapping a towel around me, that I don't know what I should wear. I can wear an Indian dress, the casual anarkali or a salwar - kameez but would it look too odd?

Confused I come out in my towel, too caught up to be embarrassed about the lack of clothing on me, in front of Karan.

And ask him.
"Karan?"

"Hmm" he sets down the paper and looks up at me to pay attention to what I have to say, when he notices me and freezes.

I may not have been very embarrassed before but now I was definitely second guessing my choice of clothing in front of him.
Thankfully Karan breaks out of whatever frozen state he had passed to and asks me what I want.

"I was wondering, what kind of clothes,should I wear?"

"Wear whatever you want."

"I mean, should I wear Indian clothes or western?"

"Like I said, whatever you want. But make sure it is comfortable. And carry something warm with you, it will be cold in New York. " he says going back to the newspaper and didn't even give me a second glance.

I have been in India all my life, even for vacations we never went abroad. And it would be a new experience, sitting in an aeroplane. Not because I have some medical issues, but because Prachi, my younger sister, has Acrophobia, which is the fear of heights. So we usually travelled by road or in a train.

"Should I wear this?" I hold out a pair of formal pants with a white shirt, towards Karan.

He looks up, stares at me, then looks down again, at the paperwork he is holding now.

"Wear something comfortable. It doesn't look comfortable to me and it is too formal for a mere journey" Karan says.

"You are wearing a suit, that is also form-" Karan cuts me off.

"I wear it all the time. It is appropriate as it suggests I am a man of authority."

"Then what should I wear?" I whine. I was almost certain he would ignore me and leave the room, to find a 'Ridhima-free' environment, imagine my surprise when he answers me back.

"How about a simple jeans and t-shirt?" He suggests.

"I don't have many of them and the ones I owned are already packed." I say sheepishly.

I know, I should have held a pair of jeans back but, it didn't strike me until I was in the shower.

Karan heaves out a tried sigh, keeps the file he was working on, on the table and gives me a tired look.

"Then wear an Indian dress. Nobody cares"

"Bu-"
"If you are not ready with in 15 minutes I am dragging you with me to airport in this towel." Karan's threat has the desired effect and I slip in the walk-in wardrobe to get dressed.

Luckily, I found an outfit which was just perfect for the occasion. A light green parallel trouser with Lacey thread work at the ends, paired with a cream short kurta with lace work all over it. I kept a shawl with me, incase I feel cold.

And deciding that the airport would not have an uneven ground on which I could possibly trip, I ended up wearing one of my favourite beige high heels.

Leaving my hair open to dry, I came out of the walk-in wardrobe and noticed that Karan was not in the room.

I went on to the dresser and applied the basic makeup- mascara and lipstick to go with my outfit.

Then I put the shawl in the handbag, which someone has packed for me, probably one of the house help people.

••••••••••

I found Karan sitting in the car's backseat with the driver in the front. I joined him in the car hoping to get a compliment from him or something but he didn't say anything. Actually, he didn't even look at me. Which was disappointing, but I am so used to it that I have learned to ignore it.

As the driver fired up the the car and took us to the airport I kept quiet and looked out of the window.

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Thank you for reading.

I sincerely apologise for my tardiness.

Thank you for voting and commenting.

I am confused between Karan Singh Grover and Nick Bateman for the casting of Karan Singhania.

Please leave your opinion in the comments. And if you have a better actor or model, for Karan's Character, do let me know in the comments.

You are reading the story above: TeenFic.Net