Losing My Virginity and Other Dumb Ideas (20 page)

Somewhere, I had begun to like the idea of being around new people. I even wanted Karan to like me. For my date with him, I wore a pair of jeans, the same Fendi ones that made my butt look small, and a lovely turquoise silk top with black beads and accessorized it with silver hoops. It was given the approval stamp by the producer who casually remarked, ‘We don’t have to worry about you. You have more experience than these twits.’ I felt pleased that I was not being compared to the rest of the women till I understood she meant in age and not in sexual prowess!

I expected Karan to be a complete idiot. After all, who would volunteer to go on a show for six weeks and be away from his work in the US as a doctor. Also, he was so young that I didn’t expect our conversation to last too long. What would I possible have in common with this
boy
? So, I was pleasantly surprised when our date went rather well even though we’d got off to a rocky start.

The producers had different plans for him with different women. Shalini went bowling and go-carting. With Anjana, the Gujju woman, he went to a movie and had veg snacks at the food court. And the eighteen-year-old and Karan went to a discotheque and danced till wee hours of the dawn. Since I was the oldest in the group, they must have thought they should plan something low-key, otherwise my blood pressure would shoot through the roof and I might just flip over and die! So they sent Karan and me to the best five star hotel for a nice, quiet, non-exciting dinner.

He picked me up in a black Fiat Linea, which also had cameras on the rear view mirror and inside the AC ducts. They presumed if anyone wanted to get naughty in the car, they could capture it for better ratings in their show. So our conversation was stilted and minimum till we reached the restaurant. Even though there was a camera on us for most part of the evening, it was at a distance so we could try and be more relaxed. But there were microphones kept on the table, which were hidden under the salt and pepper shakers for the producers to listen in on and guide us. Everything was up for reality TV. Once we ordered our starters and drinks, we began to talk naturally. ‘You know, I’m some five years older than you,’ I said, as the first thing to get the issue out of the way.

‘Yes, I know,’ he said, taking a sip of water. ‘But I find that fascinating. I feel that I will have so much to learn from you.’

I think it was his tone, but I became a little conscious about my age then. But instead of being offended, I decided to play along. So I said in a voice that sounded like an old lady’s while pointing my index finger at him, ‘Yes. I’ve opened an academy to teach you boys the importance of good behaviour!’

But he didn’t get it.

He took offence and said, ‘I’m not a small boy you know. I’m a doctor!’

‘Well, what is a doctor doing in a reality show? Got bored killing people?’ I added with a smile.

‘For your information, doctors are supposed to heal people!’ he exclaimed loudly. Since he did not get sarcasm, I decided to go to the restroom to decide what to do with this night.

Just when I stood up and said, ‘Excuse me, I’m …’ He interrupted me and said, completely shocked, ‘You’re leaving? What the …’ And I completed my sentence finally and said, ‘I’m going to use the restroom.’ And we both stopped and looked at each other to gauge what the other was thinking before we said anything stupid again.

Right then, a producer came running from the kitchen saying, ‘Very good, Kaveri. I like the sexual tension. Karan, you need to be a little more suave.’ And then she ran back into the kitchen.

I suddenly felt I was Truman in
The Truman Show
, the movie where he didn’t know that everyone was watching his life as a TV serial.

Karan turned to me and said, ‘That’s so absurd! As if I can be turned off and on on cue!’

‘I know!’ I exclaimed, and then smiled at him and then we both burst into laughter.

‘Did you see how upset she was?’ he asked, in between snorts. I sat down and laughed while having some water and nodded.

Just then the waiter came over with starters and I remembered Arjun and my first date. The starters had got mixed up and not only had we shared a plate after that, we had shared our lives as well. It was in this brief interlude that Karan noticed I was distracted and asked me so. I shook my head and changed my distant look to an interested one, ‘So, why have you left being a doctor to come join a reality TV show?’ I asked genuinely with a smile.

‘Well, I was on a student visa. I needed a green card to stay on and work, so I finished my internship and then I was told to get out of the US so they could process my visa.’ I looked confused.

‘The long and short of it is that I had three months to kill in India and I thought I should audition for this show and maybe meet some interesting women.’ He seemed genuine and nice. It wasn’t as if a bratty boy from firang land had come to give me gyan. But I was just not into him. He didn’t do anything to my heart like Arjun had. And then I had to shake the thought out of my head again, and I think he noticed and took a long gulp of his drink and looked away.

We spoke on a variety of subjects and he surprised me in being quite aware about the topics I brought up. It wasn’t as if it was a scintillating conversation that left me wanting more, but it was pleasant enough. It felt as if Aditi had set me on a blind date. But obviously I hadn’t mentioned past relationships, the other women in the house, or sex. I didn’t want a twenty-five-year-old to think I was a fool or worse, fixated with my ex. But the topic about past relationships did come up.

Karan spoke wisely while digging into a chocolate fondant we were sharing, ‘In any case, love is not a permanent thing. It’s the friendship that is permanent. That you shouldn’t let go of.’

‘Are you saying that we should be friends with our exes?’ I asked, pointing my spoon at him.

‘Sure. Why not? Once the messy stuff is outta the way, we can all just hang out, I say.’ Spoken like a true twenty-five-year-old man who didn’t understand the depth of relationships or the gravity of broken hearts. I realized that maybe I did need to teach him a thing or two. So all I said was, ‘Life is a series of mishaps till you meet the right person. But if you don’t kiss a lot of toads, you’ll never find your Prince Charming!’ Apparently, Karan liked that and so did the producers, who beamed away at a table nearby.

He licked his spoon and said, ‘You know, you and I could be good friends.’

‘Is that your closing line to all the women?’ I smiled as I asked him. I’d put down my spoon to signal I was done with the chocolate fondant.

He laughed. He had a lovely raspy voice. And he had an amazing smile. I was drawn to this boy!

‘You caught me,’ he shrugged his shoulders and winked. Then he scooped out the last of the fondant with his spoon and offered it to me. I reached out and ate it and then he licked the spoon after me.

‘I don’t generally do that,’ he said, with a twinkle in his eye and I mumbled, ‘Tell me what else you don’t do …’

Back in the car Karan and I chatted more than we had on the way to the hotel.

‘Kaveri,’ he said softly, ‘age is just in our head. I don’t think of you as being older to me.’

And astonishingly I agreed. ‘I don’t think of you as a young boy either.’

‘I really like you. I connect with you. I want us to meet again.’ Now, this would have sounded nice if we were on an actual date. But come on, we were on a reality show and we would
have
to meet. And this is exactly what I told him. But he looked away and said, ‘You know, Kaveri, I might be here because of this show, but I’m not forced to say things I don’t feel.’ And then, after a pause, ‘And I’m not
forced
to like the girls. And I just like you. That’s the truth.’

That was a nice thing to say. I smiled, ‘I like you too,’ I replied. Then he saw me to the door of the bungalow and kissed my hand and walked away. I think I heard a producer yell, ‘cut!’ somewhere in the bushes but it didn’t bother me too much. It had been a pleasant evening. I realized that not every man that you share a part of yourself with would be there forever. But if you don’t share a part with every man you meet, you’ll never know if there could have been a ‘forever’.

When I went inside, as was the drill, the inmates grilled me to spill the beans about my date. I told them the relevant facts and left out the intimate details. After all, this was a competition. And I didn’t want to lose so early!

The girls were an assorted bunch. They were all intelligent and educated. But that’s where the similarities ended. There was a docile looking salwar kameez clad woman from Lucknow, a biker–engineer from Bangalore, the eighteen-year-old college girl, the shrewd Gujarati woman from Mumbai, the Bengali who was a theatre artiste, the Punjabi woman who was a model, the woman from Hyderabad who was a web designer, the costume designer for ad films from Mumbai, the Delhi girl who was in the hotel industry and me.

The girls were friendly to a point, but when we started discussing Karan, it became a little competitive. I could make out that some of them had actually fallen for the guy and wanted to win not just for the cash prize, the fifteen minutes of fame or the holiday getaway to Australia. They actually wanted the man! I felt a pang of jealousy, which went away quickly with a thought that he wasn’t my ‘Great Love’. But the fire in me had been lit. Not only to win the man over, but win the game.

The next day we had to perform another task to win a longer date with Karan. This time there would definitely be an elimination. We left very early in the morning and went to a trekking site. Our task was to do a combination of rock climbing, swimming and trekking for a short distance. It had absolutely nothing to do with ‘how to win a man’, but apparently it was good for the show. We were given a choice of costumes for the triathlon: a spaghetti top or full sleeve shirt with a jacket, capri track pants or tiny shorts, and a swimming suit or a bikini.

All the girls with great figures wore tiny shorts and bikinis. The rest were dressed more modestly but still showed skin. I doubt if any of them really wanted to win the task as much as to look good for camera.

The sequence was to first rock climb a little to get to the top of the hill, then trek down to reach a lake and then swim across the lake to the finishing mark. I decided to save time in changing clothes and wore my swimming costume under my track pants. I slathered some sun block, tied my hair in a ponytail and was ready to give these girls a run for their money. I’d show them who was old! I just hoped that I wouldn’t break any bones while doing so!

I could hear the truck full of executive producers of the television show yelling at each other and shouting instructions at us when we reached our destination.

‘Has everyone brought their swimming suits?’ asked one producer. One girl said ‘no’, so the producer shouted at her but had to go back to get it for her.

‘Where is Aniruddh? No one remembered to bring the host?’ asked another producer sarcastically.

‘Where are the snacks that have to be served at the top of the mountain?’ yelled another to no one in particular, but wanting to seem very busy; she was on the mobile with someone who refused to pick up at such an early hour.

‘Karan has come in his car. Where do you want him, Deepa?’ shouted yet another and then I turned around and saw Deepa standing there. She was, as usual, in her cool, collected, calm demeanour, wearing a full sleeved white peasant blouse and dark blue jeans. Her multi-coloured bangles were tinkling away merrily as she gesticulated animatedly to Karan to stand in the direct sunlight next to a bush at the foot of the hill we were supposed to climb. She saw me and waved. I waved back. Then everyone started huddling around her and she got busy. We were supposed to start at six in the morning but the actual shoot only took place at ten. By then, the sun had come out over the hill and was beating down our backs. Some of the girls started complaining. ‘Oh God, yaar! I’m going to get so tanned,’ said the south Indian lady who was already a shade of bitter chocolate. No disrespect to her skin colour, which I admired, but it was pretty ridiculous to see her tetchy. ‘Is there Bisleri water? I only drink Bisleri water! Oh God, there’s no Bisleri water!’ said the girl from Lucknow who had probably had ‘pani puris’ from a roadside stall all her life.

‘Does anyone have any sun block?’ said the model standing next to Aniruddh. She was already in her bikini top. I think she’d forgotten if the prize was Karan or Aniruddh. Anyone would do, she must have thought. Aniruddh was actually flirting with her. When it was his time to give some shots, it required a few takes to get him to say the correct words without the teleprompter and I could hear the producers muttering behind me, ‘What a loser dude! He can’t even get two sentences right without the prompter!’

Then Karan came on the scene and the girls waved furiously at him. He smiled casually. He walked over to interact with all of us and I just stood at the back, drinking water from the bottle. He winked at me and walked to the spot where he was supposed to deliver his lines. All the girls looked at me and seemed extremely jealous. I appeared nonchalant on the surface but my heart was racing wildly.

He had winked! That must mean something.

When Karan shot the air gun, the race started. I didn’t think about the camera after that. I just wanted to do my best. The instructions were easy and the safety precautions were all adhered to. So there was nothing to worry about. We just had to have fun. And I had a blast. I climbed that hill as if I was Spiderman, and got to the top pretty quickly. I couldn’t believe myself. I was flexible and strong. Some of the other girls scraped their knees and started crying. They started whining that this wasn’t written in their contracts.

‘Meghna, stop complaining. We’ll pull you up if you can’t do it, but just take a few steps for the camera so they’ll know you tried, yaar!’ yelled one producer from the top on a conical loudspeaker. We were all given microphones so everything we said was recorded, to be mixed later in the editing studio. I think half of it would have to be deleted since the girls were saying the choicest of abuses to the show, producers, Karan and, each other all the way up the hill.