Prologue - The How & Why Questions

Authors Note: This series contains references to Sid's experiences in a previous series titled "That Night on the Train". While reading the earlier series is not essential to enjoying this one, readers may find it helpful to do so beforehand. It will provide additional context for certain references and help clarify any questions that may arise regarding continuity and connections between the two series.

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Prologue -- Some 7 odd months after Sid's "That Night on the Train" Adventure

Sid was in his office. It was lunchtime, and he had just finished eating at his desk. His office attendant had cleared the plates and left. Sid was simply swinging lazily in his chair, looking out at the busy streets of Delhi.

As the chair rotated back toward his desk, his eyes fell on the short scarf lying there. It was barely bigger than a handkerchief--the kind he had seen young women wear casually around their necks.

A little farther across the desk, within the continuing arc of his rotating chair, were photographs of four different girls. All matrimonial proposals his mother had been sending him.

He had recently turned twenty-nine, and the usual pressure from his parents and extended family was growing. The question "When are you getting married?" seemed to have replaced the traditional "Hello" whenever they met him.

His hand slowly moved to the eight-odd stitches that had closed the deep scar just above his heart. And, as it had every time before, that beautiful face suddenly blossomed in his mind.

Almost involuntarily, his hand reached for the scarf.

His whole train journey started playing like a flash back.

Running to catch the train, the first look, those expressive eyes, her great body, her Mangal Sutra on her irresistible cleavage, her graceful, almost hypnotic model like walk... she was a picture of perfection that had somehow managed to explode a mad vicious lust filled desire in him.

He remembered the dancing of eyes, her hide and seek behind the curtains and of course those fateful minutes in the bathroom.

He fingers tightened around the scarf and he rubbed it against his left cheek remembering the resounding slap. Then came the memory of the intimacy between them--the overwhelming lustful passion, her face caught somewhere between desire and agony, and finally, the sight of his own blood on her forehead.

The Sindoor (vermillion)!

He remembered how badly the wound had bled. He had been forced to get off at the next station and make his way to the nearest emergency room. Three or four hours later, after being treated, stitched, and bandaged, he had returned to the station and caught the next train to Delhi.

He had not even got a chance to say goodbye, to check to see if she was all right in the morning. The strangest part is that he did not even know how her scarf had come to him. He knew for sure it was hers, because he had seen her wearing it for most of the journey. It had her smell!

Maybe it was God's way of ensuring that he never forgot her! Not that he needed any help. He could never forget her. EVER!

Of course, how could he?

The entire experience had left an imprint on him that time had failed to erase. He doubted if time would ever be able to erase it.

His beloved Randi (whore) had quite literally marked him for life.

He touched the scarf to his cheek again, and it was if she smiled. He carried it with him almost everywhere. It was his treasure now! It was his only physical remembrance of her. He did not even know her name! Remembering their pinky promise, he wondered if God would ever give him a chance to see her again.

Post the incident, what had bothered him the most were those "why & how" questions.

Why did it happen?

Why did I feel so terribly lustfully attracted?

Why did he have to put a married woman through that agony?

Why that one person and no one else ever before or after for that matter?

It was not that he was a virgin. He had enjoyed his share of flings, great sex and everything before... so then what happened?

And for the love of God, she was MARRIED!!!!

He wondered if would ever get an answer to those questions.

"Bhai, Bhai (Brother)!"

The voice was soft. Sid jerked his eyes open. Standing in front of him was Ro--his younger brother, Rohit--wearing a sad, almost pained expression.

Ro had probably seen him rubbing the scar again and getting lost in his thoughts.

Five years younger than Sid, Ro had apparently entered the office without Sid even noticing.

"When are you going to tell me the REAL story behind that scar?" he asked. "You and I both know you didn't get it by 'bumping against an exposed nail on the train.'"

He put the words in exaggerated air quotes.

Sid smiled, stood up, grabbed his coat, folded the scarf carefully and put in his pocket. He ran a hand through Ro's hair and said, "Don't worry, it's all good!".

Ro sighed! He knew his big brother was hiding something and that he was in pain. Then looking at the pictures on his desk said "Which of these is going to be my Bhabhi (sister-in law)? I like this one.", he said jabbing on one of the pictures.

Sid laughed, grabbed him and said, let's go... we'll be late for the client meeting. They walked out and Ro reminded him that they also have go to the mall after the meeting, to get a gift for Mom.

Sid nodded, as he got in the car. Ro had no idea that he would be getting more than a gift for their mom at the mall.

He would also be meeting his Bhabhi (sister-in-law), cause Sid was about to meet his "hone-wali Biwi (to-be wife)"