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This is my first FF.
It is the story of Ahem and Gopi within the backdrop of London, UK.
The Tempest
Chapter 1
"Gopi, are you listening to me? On your way home stop over at the country estate to invite the guest of honour," Rashi bellowed over the phone.
"But the weather is turning for the worse Rashiben," complained Gopi, hoping for a respite from this task.
"No, Gopi. I watched the weather channel and you will be fine for the next couple of hours. This will take no more than ten minutes and you will be on your way home... Oh, another thing, mummy has already agreed to your marriage to Kokila Modi's son, Ahem," spat Rashi.
"But Rashiben..."
"...will chat later," interrupted Rashi, "don't forget go to the country estate and invite the guest of honour."
The line went dead. Silence fell around Gopi as she looked at her phone and sighed.
She sat back on her seat in the bus that
just started to move from its terminal at Stratford upon Avon heading towards
London. It is going to be an interrupted journey with this unexpected stopover,
she exclaimed to herself.
Many things in Gopi's life weren't easy but she braced herself and coped with it, no matter what. She had to make adjustments in her life from the time she was five years old after her parents had died suddenly. She moved into her mami's home, Urmila Shah, only to live within the basic needs that were given to her. Her schooling days were mundane which brought on slightly interesting college years. She opted to study drama hence her visit to Shakespeare's home town.
It was a Saturday course which was now over. She loved her time away from home and to lose herself in her studies. She enjoyed role playing a lot and being in another person's shoes, even if it was for a while. A deep sigh left Gopi's mouth as she thought about her role as the young Elizabeth the first. She had to be fierce, bold and cold, something that she was not. Her tutor's coaching worked well only for that time.
A while later the next stop was announced over the speaker distracting Gopi from her thoughts.
Many things in Gopi's life weren't easy but she braced herself and coped with it, no matter what. She had to make adjustments in her life from the time she was five years old after her parents had died suddenly. She moved into her mami's home, Urmila Shah, only to live within the basic needs that were given to her. Her schooling days were mundane which brought on slightly interesting college years. She opted to study drama hence her visit to Shakespeare's home town.
It was a Saturday course which was now over. She loved her time away from home and to lose herself in her studies. She enjoyed role playing a lot and being in another person's shoes, even if it was for a while. A deep sigh left Gopi's mouth as she thought about her role as the young Elizabeth the first. She had to be fierce, bold and cold, something that she was not. Her tutor's coaching worked well only for that time.
A while later the next stop was announced over the speaker distracting Gopi from her thoughts.
Oh the invitation, thought Gopi.
She dug into her bag and drew out from her folder an envelope. It read
Ahem Modi, 10 Tempest Lane, The Downs.
Oh my God! She is going to see HIM!
She drew a sharp breath. Her blood turned cold making her heart cringed. What am I to do?
Why Rashiben? She looked down at her clothes. Oh no! How am I going to meet my future husband dressed in this outfit? wondered Gopi.
Gopi was dressed in a short tight maroon skirt with a two inch slit on the left side that ended just above her knee and a white vest t-shirt with strappy sandals. She had her floral handbag slung across her body.
It was the middle of late summer in early September. This year had been a a dismal summer where it had rained quite a bit. Over the last week the weather improved bringing sunnier days with warm temperatures. This is typical of an Indian summer.
She convinced herself it will only be ten minutes as Rashiben said and not a second longer. She would tell him about the Yuvak Samaj and all the work the youth group does for their community, invite him for the youth conference and tell him that she looks forward to seeing him there then will excuse herself.
It was simple. In and out in ten minutes.
Rashi and Gopi have spent the last five years working in the samaj to encourage the youth to keep up their cultural values. Rashi was the public relations officer and Gopi, secretary. Every year they organised a one day conference with workshops and seminars. This year the focus is on young and successful businessmen.
Ahem Modi was renowned for his successes as Chief Operations Officer for Modi Enterprise. He had completed his MBA at Oxford and had just received the Young Inspirational Business Leader of the Year award. Moreover, his was a member of the local Wembley community. This was the reason to have him as the guest of honour.
This should have been Rashiben's job inviting him, thought Gopi. Just then the stop for The Downs was announced. Gopi gathered herself and her belongings, and headed to the exit door.
Oh my God! She is going to see HIM!
She drew a sharp breath. Her blood turned cold making her heart cringed. What am I to do?
Why Rashiben? She looked down at her clothes. Oh no! How am I going to meet my future husband dressed in this outfit? wondered Gopi.
Gopi was dressed in a short tight maroon skirt with a two inch slit on the left side that ended just above her knee and a white vest t-shirt with strappy sandals. She had her floral handbag slung across her body.
It was the middle of late summer in early September. This year had been a a dismal summer where it had rained quite a bit. Over the last week the weather improved bringing sunnier days with warm temperatures. This is typical of an Indian summer.
She convinced herself it will only be ten minutes as Rashiben said and not a second longer. She would tell him about the Yuvak Samaj and all the work the youth group does for their community, invite him for the youth conference and tell him that she looks forward to seeing him there then will excuse herself.
It was simple. In and out in ten minutes.
Rashi and Gopi have spent the last five years working in the samaj to encourage the youth to keep up their cultural values. Rashi was the public relations officer and Gopi, secretary. Every year they organised a one day conference with workshops and seminars. This year the focus is on young and successful businessmen.
Ahem Modi was renowned for his successes as Chief Operations Officer for Modi Enterprise. He had completed his MBA at Oxford and had just received the Young Inspirational Business Leader of the Year award. Moreover, his was a member of the local Wembley community. This was the reason to have him as the guest of honour.
This should have been Rashiben's job inviting him, thought Gopi. Just then the stop for The Downs was announced. Gopi gathered herself and her belongings, and headed to the exit door.
She walked out into the muggy afternoon air looking
ever so ominous and tumultuous. The sky was turning orange and the clouds were
ramming together forming a darker shade of grey. The sharp wind blew her hair
away from her. This was not a day to go visiting and that too to meet him ' Mr
A!
The bus moved away leaving her standing alone nearby some shops. Forcing herself to remain focused she looked out for Tempest Lane.
The Downs was a tiny village with just a general store, post office and a church and with the odd left and right turns into the side roads. Perhaps it was one of those side roads, thought Gopi. She walked up to the narrow road on the left and searched for its name. It read Furlow Lane. No, it wasn't this. What about the lane ahead on the right? she asked herself.
Gopi walked briskly from the village centre along the quiet road. There was nothing but grass on both sides and houses spread apart. It was a typical English countryside ' green grass, rolling green hills with random cottages dotted around all. Usually it would have looked pretty and quintessentially English but not today with the storm brewing both outside and inside Gopi.
As she approached the lane it read The Tempest. To her relief, she walked on with a quicker pace wanting to get her task over and done. Just a few houses all set into their land. The more she walked along away from the main road the quieter the area became until she came upon a drive into an estate. A rectangular plaque on the side of the pillar read Modi Estate indicating the number.
This is it, acknowledged Gopi to herself.
She walked up the long drive lined with an avenue of trees with branches that crept over the drive. It led to the entrance of the quaint double storey thatched cottage which was surrounded by larger and older trees that towered the house creating an atmospheric feel about the place.
The large gardens made it a great place for children the run around and play outside in the long daylight hours during summer whilst being kept under the watchful eye of the adult close by.
Near the door was parked an Audi 4x4. People are in the house, she thought. That's good. It will be ok, she comforted herself. Suddenly as she began to knock on the door the wind turned and began to pick up, swirling in its wake.
"Ahem dikra the girl's aunty has agreed to the marriage so it is set. Punditji said the next best day will be a week before Navratri leaving me five weeks to settle all the wedding arrangements," Ahem's mother, Kokila affirmatively spoke through the telephone line.
Just then there was a knock on the front door. Irritated by the interruption, knowing this is the set up by Jigar, Ahem complied, "Yes, mum. You know I leave tomorrow for Dubai, Mumbai and Singapore. I return at the end of next month."
"Dikra, when you return that evening will be the engagement party then the wedding is a week later," Kokila persistently continued.
The knocking became louder this time round with some insistence in it too. Why do I fall prey to Jigar's immature activities, Ahem asked himself. Time and time again Jigar, his brother, sets up a tart for Ahem's pleasure, thinking that all work and no play makes Ahem a dull man.
"Yes, mum. I have to go," Ahem responded.
Kokila, quick as a whip, interrupted, "but don't you want to know her name?"
"I'll call you tomorrow from the airport," with that Ahem slammed the phone on the receiver and strode in large steps to the door.
Gopi had knocked much louder now, this being the third time. With no response she turned and started walking away as the wind soared and twirled around.
Suddenly a gush pulled her backwards. Was it the relentless heightening wind or something else when she heard a roar behind her?
"WHAT??"
Gopi turned around and stood frozen at the sound of the booming voice taking in the figure standing at the door.
He was a tall, lean yet well built man with well sculptured shoulders and chest. He was wearing a black suit trouser with a white shirt tucked in and unbuttoned half way down his chest with sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He was a sight to behold.
His face glowered and wildly matched with his eyes that burnt with rage. His jaw twitched rapidly. He was not meant to be messed about. His thunderous look gave way to his tense muscles making his clean shaven look intensely appealing.
Gopi could not understand why her insides were warming up to a boil. Her tummy began to flutter and her supportive knees were turning to jelly. Her mind began to play havoc of new found thoughts of wanting to feel his firm muscular shoulders and the desire to have his arms wrapped around her with her head resting on his chest. What would it feel like to do this? she asked herself as this wild thought popped into her mind.
With his hand on the door handle and standing at its entrance, Ahem drew in this crazed yet petite figure. She sure fit Jigar's tart category with her apparel and her hair wildly styled by the wind but there was something about her that did not seem to add up. What was it about her?
Her eyes were like lasers that bore deep holes into him leaving a tingling feeling in his chest.
He yelled out competing with the wind, "Are you going to stand out there or come inside where it is still?"
Just then large raindrops began to fall. The next second he fast approached her, grabbed her wrist and pulled her.
Gopi did not resist but followed as though she was had just been commanded. His warm hand on her wrist sent an electric shock through her system igniting her. She followed him up the stairs, through the front door into the large main hall. She recognised the song playing in the background ' Somewhere only we know by Keane. Suddenly she heard a mobile ringtone.
He swung her around and released her making her come face to face with him. She was completely drenched, he noticed.
"Go upstairs, turn right and walk into the room at the end. You will find towels and clothes in the wardrobe," Ahem commanded, "I have to take this call."
As he walked away into another room she heard his fading conversation, "Good evening Mr Kapoor, I will be in Mumbai on Friday morning. Set up the meeting at noon..."
Gopi looked around the hall. It epitomised everything she had heard of the Modi's ' wealthy, opulent and warm ' except for the welcome she had just received.
She looked down at herself and noticed just how soaked she was and heeded his order.
The bus moved away leaving her standing alone nearby some shops. Forcing herself to remain focused she looked out for Tempest Lane.
The Downs was a tiny village with just a general store, post office and a church and with the odd left and right turns into the side roads. Perhaps it was one of those side roads, thought Gopi. She walked up to the narrow road on the left and searched for its name. It read Furlow Lane. No, it wasn't this. What about the lane ahead on the right? she asked herself.
Gopi walked briskly from the village centre along the quiet road. There was nothing but grass on both sides and houses spread apart. It was a typical English countryside ' green grass, rolling green hills with random cottages dotted around all. Usually it would have looked pretty and quintessentially English but not today with the storm brewing both outside and inside Gopi.
As she approached the lane it read The Tempest. To her relief, she walked on with a quicker pace wanting to get her task over and done. Just a few houses all set into their land. The more she walked along away from the main road the quieter the area became until she came upon a drive into an estate. A rectangular plaque on the side of the pillar read Modi Estate indicating the number.
This is it, acknowledged Gopi to herself.
She walked up the long drive lined with an avenue of trees with branches that crept over the drive. It led to the entrance of the quaint double storey thatched cottage which was surrounded by larger and older trees that towered the house creating an atmospheric feel about the place.
The large gardens made it a great place for children the run around and play outside in the long daylight hours during summer whilst being kept under the watchful eye of the adult close by.
Near the door was parked an Audi 4x4. People are in the house, she thought. That's good. It will be ok, she comforted herself. Suddenly as she began to knock on the door the wind turned and began to pick up, swirling in its wake.
"Ahem dikra the girl's aunty has agreed to the marriage so it is set. Punditji said the next best day will be a week before Navratri leaving me five weeks to settle all the wedding arrangements," Ahem's mother, Kokila affirmatively spoke through the telephone line.
Just then there was a knock on the front door. Irritated by the interruption, knowing this is the set up by Jigar, Ahem complied, "Yes, mum. You know I leave tomorrow for Dubai, Mumbai and Singapore. I return at the end of next month."
"Dikra, when you return that evening will be the engagement party then the wedding is a week later," Kokila persistently continued.
The knocking became louder this time round with some insistence in it too. Why do I fall prey to Jigar's immature activities, Ahem asked himself. Time and time again Jigar, his brother, sets up a tart for Ahem's pleasure, thinking that all work and no play makes Ahem a dull man.
"Yes, mum. I have to go," Ahem responded.
Kokila, quick as a whip, interrupted, "but don't you want to know her name?"
"I'll call you tomorrow from the airport," with that Ahem slammed the phone on the receiver and strode in large steps to the door.
Gopi had knocked much louder now, this being the third time. With no response she turned and started walking away as the wind soared and twirled around.
Suddenly a gush pulled her backwards. Was it the relentless heightening wind or something else when she heard a roar behind her?
"WHAT??"
Gopi turned around and stood frozen at the sound of the booming voice taking in the figure standing at the door.
He was a tall, lean yet well built man with well sculptured shoulders and chest. He was wearing a black suit trouser with a white shirt tucked in and unbuttoned half way down his chest with sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He was a sight to behold.
His face glowered and wildly matched with his eyes that burnt with rage. His jaw twitched rapidly. He was not meant to be messed about. His thunderous look gave way to his tense muscles making his clean shaven look intensely appealing.
Gopi could not understand why her insides were warming up to a boil. Her tummy began to flutter and her supportive knees were turning to jelly. Her mind began to play havoc of new found thoughts of wanting to feel his firm muscular shoulders and the desire to have his arms wrapped around her with her head resting on his chest. What would it feel like to do this? she asked herself as this wild thought popped into her mind.
With his hand on the door handle and standing at its entrance, Ahem drew in this crazed yet petite figure. She sure fit Jigar's tart category with her apparel and her hair wildly styled by the wind but there was something about her that did not seem to add up. What was it about her?
Her eyes were like lasers that bore deep holes into him leaving a tingling feeling in his chest.
He yelled out competing with the wind, "Are you going to stand out there or come inside where it is still?"
Just then large raindrops began to fall. The next second he fast approached her, grabbed her wrist and pulled her.
Gopi did not resist but followed as though she was had just been commanded. His warm hand on her wrist sent an electric shock through her system igniting her. She followed him up the stairs, through the front door into the large main hall. She recognised the song playing in the background ' Somewhere only we know by Keane. Suddenly she heard a mobile ringtone.
He swung her around and released her making her come face to face with him. She was completely drenched, he noticed.
"Go upstairs, turn right and walk into the room at the end. You will find towels and clothes in the wardrobe," Ahem commanded, "I have to take this call."
As he walked away into another room she heard his fading conversation, "Good evening Mr Kapoor, I will be in Mumbai on Friday morning. Set up the meeting at noon..."
Gopi looked around the hall. It epitomised everything she had heard of the Modi's ' wealthy, opulent and warm ' except for the welcome she had just received.
She looked down at herself and noticed just how soaked she was and heeded his order.
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