Page 35 of Forged By Fate

It was a little early for a social call, but Sarang Sharma was one of his oldest friends and was welcome at Chaudhry House even in the middle of the night. He was also one of the country’s leading music directors. Sufi liked to call him the composer with the golden touch because of his track record of churning out hit after hit. The last seven albums he composed for Viren’s company, Silver Records, had hit platinum in record time.

Sarang was one of the few classically trained composers of our times. He had trained for years under Bhargav Pandit Ji, a renowned singer of the Rampur-Sahaswan gharana of Hindustani classical music, who had established a large gurukul in Rewa. Last month, Sarang had married his guru’s daughter, Tarana, in a simple affair at the gurukul.

To my surprise, instead of taking his new wife on an extended honeymoon, Sarang and his wife returned to Mumbai immediately after the wedding, and he was back in his studio the next day. That was no way to treat a wife, and Daya Bua lost no time in scolding him for being such a workaholic. But I had a feeling it was more than just that. I had a feeling there was something seriously wrong with Sarang and Tarana’s marriage. For one, they seemed to actively hate each other. I had seen them glaring at each other more than once.

“The sex can’t bethatbad, Sue. Sarang looks like he knows his way around the bedroom,” Sufi had murmured wickedly in my ear when we had the newly married couple over for dinner.

I had shushed him but felt really bad about the state of their relationship because Sarang was a dear, and Tarana looked like a very nice person. I wished they’d get over their differences and make an attempt to save their marriage.

But as they walked into the dining room, it didn’t look like there was any better understanding between them. They still acted like the other didn’t exist. I had seen complete strangers be nicer to each other than these two.

Tarana gave Daya Bua a lovely woven basket filled with goodies from her hometown, Rewa. I hadn’t even heard of any of the sweets except the decadent-looking jalebi, but the Mahua ki puri looked very promising.

“I can only look at those sweets from afar,” I said with a sigh, staring longingly at the basket that Daya Bua carried out of the room. “I’m on a diet.”

Viren frowned at me.

“What rubbish! You don’t need to be on a diet,” he exclaimed. “You’re perfect as you are.”

“How sweet,” said Tarana, and I rolled my eyes.

“He’s just making sure I don’t pass on these insecurities to Aisha,” I quipped.

“Or maybe he just likes your curves,” murmured Sufi.

I pressed my foot into his instep and he squealed in pain.

“Shut your trap before I shut it for you,” I hissed, ignoring the knowing look Viren cast at us.

“I thought you’d be glued to your studio at this hour,” he teased Sarang.

“Dude, I can’t get any work done until you fix this issue with Ria’s contract,” grumbled Sarang, throwing his sunglasses onto the table.

I noticed Tarana gritting her teeth when Sarang mentioned Ria Ghosh, the reigning queen of playback in the film industry. I wondered if she’d heard the same rumours that I had and if that was the cause of the tension between the couple.

At one point, Sarang and Ria were rumoured to have been dating. And quite seriously. It got to the point where she refused to work with any other composer. Together, they created music magic, but while Ria was completely smitten with Sarang, I hadn’t seen any signs of him reciprocating her feelings. And I was sure that chapter in his life was closed for good now that he was married to Tarana.

“The problem is entirely on her side,” retorted Viren. “She’s being extremely unreasonable. And if she doesn’t mend her ways, I’ll be forced to replace her, Sarang.”

“Are you out of your mind? I’ve just spent the past month composing nine new songs just for her. No one else can do justice to those songs,” argued Sarang. “I dare you to find another singer like her.”

“It’s not impossible, my friend. Everyone’s replaceable,” said Viren in a hard voice.

“Sunaina, I need to talk to you,” whispered Tarana, looking very pale.

I nodded and pushed my chair back.

“We’ll leave you to your very boring discussion,” I said, with a smile.

As we rose from the table, I noticed Sarang’s eyes tracking his wife even as he kept talking to Viren. But she didn’t see it because she was too busy stalking out of the room in a temper. I smiled ruefully as I followed her to the covered verandah that wrapped around the whole house.

She looked glum as she leaned against the railing.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” I asked gently.

“You mean apart from the fact that my husband is so obsessed with another woman that he won’t ever give anyone else a chance?” she asked bitterly.

“Do you mean Ria?”

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