Unseasonal dark clouds hung over the city. It had been raining incessantly for the last two days, bringing Mumbai to its knees. Railway tracks were submerged, trains cancelled and commuters stranded; traffic jams on water-logged roads didn’t make life any easier for the hapless city workers. It was a rerun of the tribulations faced by Mumbaiites each monsoon. The joy and relief that came with the end of a blistering summer was soon replaced by miseries caused by the flooding of tracks and pot-holed roads.
At Sea View Apartments, Vikram Ahuja’s mood was as dark as the lowering clouds seen through his tenth-storey window. The yesteryears’ superstar stood in his bougainvillea-strewn balcony, wincing at the ugliness of the view. Twelve years ago, Sea View Apartments had lived up to its moniker, but now the name was a misnomer – a high rise stood between him and the ocean.
Vikram’s life had taken an unpleasant turn in the recent years. From a top star to a nobody, the fall had been swift and sudden. He had learnt about the fleeting nature of stardom the hard way. In an industry where stars are made and unmade every Friday, he had been demolished in a very short span of time.
A bitter smile twisted his handsome features as he looked around his living room. The beige leather sofa wore a worn look, the expensive silk carpet had lost its sheen, the walls needed a fresh coat of paint, the curtains appeared dull and faded; even the creepers on the balcony looked exhausted. He sighed. The coffee tasted bitter. There was nothing in the morning to cheer his flagging spirit.
And then the phone rang.
‘How have you been, Vicks?’ came a familiar voice from the past and a strong sense of déjà vu filled his mind.
‘Ramola? Oh, my God! What a pleasant surprise! I can’t believe you are calling me after all these years. Are you in Mumbai? Let’s meet up for lunch,’ he said enthusiastically. They had been the hottest item in Bollywood. With Ramola’s help, it should be possible to resurrect his career. Where was she?
‘No, Vicky. I am not in Mumbai but we’ll meet soon,’ she cooed.
‘When?’ asked Ahuja. The eagerness in his voice didn’t escape her. Bollywood, with its infamous short memory, had almost forgotten the starlet. A comeback would be sensational, and if he were to be her co-star, the movie was sure to be the top grosser. But he seemed to have conveniently forgotten that they had parted on an acrimonious note.
‘All in good time,’ Ramola’s husky voice titillated him. ‘I’m hosting a party for my birthday and you are invited to Ramsar.’
‘Ramsar?’ Ahuja had never heard of the place. ‘I knew you left Mumbai, but where the hell is Ramsar?’
And why had the woman decided to move to the back of beyond? Nevertheless, there was hope of her return, now that she had contacted him. He was sure she had something to offer. Ramola was not someone who acted without a motive.
‘Just a few thousand kilometres from Mumbai,’ she snuffed out the flame of hope that had flickered momentarily. ‘It’s a small, secluded, scenic hill town, exquisitely picturesque.’
‘Much as I love you, my dear, there is no way I am going to travel thousands of kilometres for your birthday.’
‘You are getting cantankerous, aren’t you? Has another woman walked out of your life?’ Ramola teased. ‘Well, it’s not just a birthday. I will be making a very important announcement that concerns both of us.’
Now she was just being stupid. Imagine asking him to travel all that distance just to hear some silly announcement.
‘Why don’t you come to Mumbai and make the announcement?’
‘That’s not possible.’
He paused for a moment. From her description of it, Ramsar sounded like a nice place. Besides, he hadn’t had a vacation in a long time.
‘You will not regret the trip, I can promise you that.’
‘Alright, if you insist …’ Ahuja left the sentence hanging.
‘I knew you would agree. I’ll email you the directions.’
He stared absently through the glass at the non-existent sea view. What was this announcement that she was talking about?
What on earth could it be?