Page 37 of Forged By Fate

We were married to the kind of men whose name was their identity. And it was but natural for them to want their wives to take their names. Viren had been quite clear about the fact that I had to take his name if we were to convince the adoption agencythat we were in a stable marriage. He didn’t want to give them a reason to doubt our relationship.

“Because my marriage destroyed the career I aspired to. I have no intention of allowing it to destroy my identity, as well,” she said starkly.

“Delayed, not destroyed,” I replied. “Your marriage might have delayed your career. But nothing can destroy your bright future, Tarana.”

“So how about it?” she asked. “Will you take me on as a client?”

I held out my hand, and she gripped it unsmilingly.

“Welcome aboard, Tarana Pandit. Let’s make you a star.”

CHAPTER 18

VIREN

Istared at Sarang, waiting for him to tell me what was troubling him.

I knew my friend. He liked to bury his issues deep inside him, pouring his pain into his music instead of dealing with it like a sane person.

“How has Tarana settled in with your family?” I asked finally.

He let out an angry snort.

“My wife has no intention of settling down into comfortable matrimony, Viren. She has higher aspirations in life. Anyway, I’m not here to talk about her. We really need to resolve this issue with Ria because the producers are starting to fuss. They’ve already finished the last schedule of the shooting and want the album ready soon.”

“Stay out of it, Sarang. This has nothing to do with you,” I said curtly. “I will have a sit-down with Ria and her legal team. And if we can’t arrive at an understanding, you’ll have to look for another singer. That shouldn’t be difficult, surely.”

I didn’t know why he had such a blind spot where Ria was concerned. Sure, she was an amazing singer, but she wasn’t the only one. She wasn’t the first diva I had fired, and she wouldn’t be the last. That’s exactly how newcomers got their breaks in this industry. Every veteran artist lost a contract at some point because they threw one tantrum too many and were replaced at the last minute by a new artist. That was how the industry worked.

Sunaina and Tarana returned just in time to hear his reply.

“There will never be another Ria Ghosh, Viren. Mark my words.”

I noticed Tarana’s lips tighten at his words, and she looked daggers at him. I didn’t blame her. No wife liked to hear her husband be so obsessed with another woman. I could never figure out Sarang’s relationship with Ria. Were they having an affair? If yes, he would never have married Tarana. He wasn’t that sort of man. Was she merely his muse? For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out the hold she had over my friend. All I knew was that I didn’t like it.

Sarang and Ria had together brought back the golden era of Hindi film music that was based on melody rather than gimmicks. And they were a powerhouse duo. But I wondered if it was time to break this partnership before it became toxic to everyone around them.

Tarana gave Sunaina a meaningful look before she and Sarang left. I wondered what that was about. Before I could ask her, Sufi came in with my to-do list for the day.

“You’ve got a busy day today, gorgeous,” he announced. “You’re meeting with The Bandra Boys this afternoon. And can I just say I’m still fangirling over their lead guitarist, Tanvir? Now, if we can only find them another lead singer.”

The Bandra Boys were a progressive rock band from Bandra who had been with our label for the past three years.Unfortunately, their lead singer skipped out on them for a chance to join an alt-rock band in Germany. They still hadn’t found anyone to replace him, and I didn’t know if we could extend their contract unless they found someone soon.

“What exactly are they looking for?” I asked irritably. I didn’t like losing good artists just because they couldn’t get their act together.

“Tanvir says he wants a fresh voice. He’s tired of doing the same stale old thing. He wants to make some new music, and he wants someone with a strong Hindustani classical base this time around.”

I snorted in derision.

“Where’s he going to find a Hindustani classical singer to be part of a rock band?”

“I might have someone who’d be perfect for that job,” said Sunaina slowly.

I picked my next words very carefully because while I knew she meant well, her band of wannabe influencers were a far cry from the kind of singers we needed. We were looking for someone who was already recording-ready because we didn’t have the time to train and polish them. Besides, we might have slept together, but that did not give her a say in the family business. Silver Records was my baby and my baby alone. And I ran it with my brain, not with my dick.

“Sunaina, it takes a special skill for a classical singer to perform with a progressive rock band. It requires an open mind and a level of flexibility that most gharana singers don’t have. They are bound by the rules of their gharana, so as a record label, it’s a very tricky thing for us to navigate. And we don’t want someone who’s trying to turn their hobby into a career. Progressive rock involves a lot of complicated techniques and compositions, so it has to be someone with the skill to blend their classical training with the rock aspect.”

“You don’t even know whom I’m talking about,” she pointed out.

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