ONE NIGHT (16 page)

—Esha.’

‘Do you think you love her?’ I said.

‘Can’t say. But I’ve felt something for her over a year now.’

‘But you dated other girls last year.’

‘Those girls were never important. They were like TV channels you surf

while looking for the real program you want to see. You are with that Curly

Wurly chick, and you still have feelings for Priyanka,’ Vroom said.

The statement startled me.

‘Shefali is there to help me move on,’ I said.

‘Screw moving on. That chick can put you off women forever. Maybe

that will help you get over Priyanka,’ Vroom said.

‘Don’t change the topic. We’re talking about you. I think you should ask

Esha again for a real relationship. Do it man.’

Vroom looked at me for a few seconds. ‘Will you help me?’ he said.

‘Me? You’re the expert with girls,’ I said.

‘This one is different. The stakes are higher. Can you be around when I

talk to her? Just listen to our conversation. Maybe we can analyze it later.’

‘Okay, sure. So, let’s do it now.’

‘Now?’

‘Why not? We have free time. Afterwards calls will, begin and we’ll be

busy again. Worst case, management may fire us. Better act fast right?’ I said.

‘Okay. Where do we do it?’ Vroom said as he put his hand on his

forehead to think. ‘The dining room?’

The dinning room made sense. I could be nearby, but inconspicuous.

#16

‘Everything okay? I heard noises,’ Esha said, as we returned from the

supplies room. She stretched back on her chair. Her top slid up and the navel

ring twinkled.

‘The Xerox machine died. Anyway, anyone for a snack?’ I said.

‘Yes, let’s go. I need a walk. Come, Priyanka,’ Esha said and tried to pull

Priyanka up by her upper arm.

‘No, I’ll stay here,’ Priyanka said and smiled. ‘Ganesh might call.’

A scoop of hot molten lead entered through my head and left my toes.

Try to move on
, I reminded myself. At the same time, I had the urge to pick

up that landline and smash it to fifty pieces.

Radhika was about to get up when I stopped her.

‘Actually Radhika, can you stay back? If Bakshi walks by, at least he’ll

see some people on the desk,’ I said.

Radhika sat back puzzled as we left the room.

The dining area

The dinning area at Connexions is a cross between a restaurant and a

college hostel mess. There are three rows of long granite-covered tables, with

seating on both sides. The chairs are plush; they’re upholstered in black

leather in an attempt to give them a hip designer look. The tables have a

small vase every three feet. Management recently renovated the place when

some overpriced consulting l of MBAs) recommended that a bright dining room

would be good for employee motivation. A much cheaper option would have

just been to fire. Bakshi, if you ask me.

Vroom took a cheese sandwich and chips (we don’t serve Indian food—

again for motivation reasons) in his tray and sat at one of the tables. Esha just

tool soda water and sat opposite Vroom. I think slice of eats once every three

days. I took an unhealthy sized slice of chocolate cake. I shouldn’t have, but

justified it as a well-deserved reward for helping a friend.

I sat at the adjacent table, took out my phone, and started typing fake

SMS messages.

‘Why isn’t Shyam sitting with us?’ Esha said t Vroom, twisting on her

seat to look at me.

‘Private SMSing,’ Vroom said. Esha rolled her eyes and nodded.

‘Actually Esha, I wanted to tell you something,’ Vroom said, fingering

the chips on his plate. I had already finished half my cake. I was probably a

pig with a reverse eating disorder in my previous life.

‘Yeah/’ Esha said to Vroom, dragging the word as an eyebrow rose in

suspicion. The invisible female antennae were out and suggesting caution.

‘Talk about what?’

‘Esha,’ Vroom said, clearing his throat. ‘I’ve been thinking about you a

lot lately.’

‘Really?’ she said and looked sideways to see if I was eavesdropping. Of

course I was, but I made an extra effort to display a facial expression that

showed I was really focusing on my cake. She watched as I joyfully consumed

what was probably her weekly calorific consumption in a few seconds.

‘Yes really, Esha. I may have met a lot of girls, but no one is like you.’

She giggled and, taking a flower out from the vase, began plucking out

its petals.

‘Yes,’ Vroom continued, ‘and I think rather than fool around, could do

with a real relationship. So, I’m asking you again—will you go out with me?’

Esha was quiet for a few minutes. ‘What do you expect me to say?’

‘I don’t know. How about a yes?’

‘Really/ well unfortunately that word did not occur to me,’ Esha said,

her expression serious.

‘Why?’ Vroom said. I could tell he though it was over already. He had

told me once, if a girl hints she is not interested, it’s time to cut losses and

quit. Never try the persuasion game.

‘I’ve told you before. I have to focus on my modeling career. I can’t

afford the luxury of making a boyfriend,’ she said, her voice unusually cold.

‘What is with you, Esha? Don’t you want someone to support you…’

Vroom said.

‘that’s right, with three different girlfriends last year, I am sure you will

always be there for me,’ Esha said.

‘The other girls were just for fun. They meant nothing, they’re like

pizza or movies or something. They are channel surfing, you are more

serious,’ Vroom said.

‘So what serious channel am I? The BCC?’ Esha said.

‘I have known you for more than a year. We have spent hundreds of

nights together…’

I though Vroom’s last phrase came out odd, but Esha was too

preoccupied to notice.

‘Just drop it, Vroom,’ Esha said put the flowers back in the vase. Her

voice was breaking, though she was not crying yet.

‘Are you okay?’ Vroom said and extended his hand to hold hers. She

sensed the move and pulled her hand away nanoseconds before he reached it.

‘Not really,’ Esha said.

‘I thought we were friends. I just wanted to take it to the next level…’

Vroom said.

‘Please stop it,’ Esha said, and covered her eyes with her hands. ‘You

chose the worst time to talk about this.’

‘What’s wrong Esha? Can I help?’ Vroom said, his voice now held more

concern than the nervousness of romance.

She shook her head frantically.

I knew Vroom had failed miserably. This girl was not interested and was

in a strange mood tonight anyway. I finished my thousand-calorie chocolate

cake, and went to the counter to get water. By the time I returned, they had

left the dining room.

#17

I returned to the WASG bay with the taste of chocolate cake lingering in

my mouth. I sat down at my desk and began surfing irrelevant website.

Radhika was giving Priyanka recommendation on the best shops in Delhi for

bridal dresses. Esha and Vroom were silent. My guilt for eating the chocolate

cake combined with my guilt for not reporting the systems failure. When guilt

combines, it multiplies manifold. I finally called IT to fix our desk. They were

busy, but promised to come in ten minutes.

The spare landline’s ring startled us all.

‘Ganesh,’ Priyanka said as she scrambled to pick up the phone. I kept a

calm face while I selected the option to listen in on the call.

‘Mom,’ Priyanka said, ‘why aren’t you sleeping? Who gave you this

number?’

‘What sleeping? No one has slept a wink today,’ her mother said in an

excited voice. I had never met her. However, through Priyanka’s stories, I felt

I knew her intimately.

The tapped line had exceptional clarity. Her mother sounded elated,

which was unusual for a woman who (according to Priyanka) had spent most

of life in self-imposed, obsessive-compulsive depression.

Priyanka’s mother explained how Ganesh had just called her and given

her the emergency line number. Ganesh’s family in India had also not slept;

they had been calling Priyanka’s parents at least once an hour. Ganesh had

told Priyanka’s family that he was ‘on top of the world’. I guess the sad dude

really had no other life.

‘I am so happy today. Look how God sent such a perfect match right to

our door. And I used to worry about you so much,’ Priyanka’s mother said.

That’s great mom, but what’s up?’ Priyanka said. I’ll be home in a few

hours. How come you called her?’

‘Just like that. Can’t a mother call her daughter?’ Priyanka’s mom said.

‘Can’t a mother’ is one of her classic lines.

‘No mom, I just wondered. Anyway, Ganesh and I spoke a few times

today.’

‘And?’

‘And what?’

‘Did he tell you his plans?’

‘What plans/’

‘He is coming to India next month. Originally he’d planned the trip so he

could see girls. But now that he has made his choice, he wants to get married

on that trip,’ Priyanka’s mom said, her voice turning breathless with

excitement.

‘What?’ Priyanka said, ‘next month/’ and looked around a all of us with

a shocked expression. Everyone returned puzzled looks, as they did not know

what was going on. Of course, I also pretended to look confused.

‘Mom, no!’ Priyanka wailed. ‘How can I get married next month? That is

less than five weeks.’

‘Oh you don’t have to worry about that. I am there to organize

everything. You wait and see, I will work day and night to make it a grand

event.’

‘Mom I’m not worried about organizing a party. I have so be ready to get

married. I hardly know Ganesh,’ Priyanka said, entwining her fingers

nervously in the telephone wire.

‘Huh?’ Of course, you are ready for it. When the families have fixed the

match, bride and groom are happy, why delay? And the boy can’t come again

and again. He is in an important position after all.’

Yeah right, I thought. He was probably one of the thousands of Indian

geeks coding away in Microsoft. $But to his in-laws, he was Mr Bill Gates

himself.

‘Mom, please. I cannot do it next month. Sorry—but no,’ Priyanka said,

‘and I have to keep the phone down now.’

‘What do you mean no? This is too much. You have to disagree with me

always or what/’

‘Mom, how does this have anything to do with disagreeing with you?’ in

fact, how does it have anything to do with you? It is my life, and sorry, I can’t

marry anyone I have only known for five weeks.’

Priyanka’s mother stayed silent for a while. I thought she would

retaliate, but then I figured out: this silence was working more effectively

than words. She knows how to put an emotional stasher knife tight at

Priyanka’s neck.

‘Mom, are you there?’ Priyanka asked after ten seconds.

‘Yes, I am still here. Will be dead soon, but unfortunately still here.’

‘Mom c’mon now…’

‘Don’t even make me happy by mistake,’ Priyanka’s mother said. What

a killer line, I thought. I almost applauded.

Priyanka threw a hand up in the air in exasperation. She grabbed a

stress ball lying near Vroom’s computer across the table and squeezed it hard.

I tugged the headset closer to my ear as Priyanka’s voice turned softer.

‘Mom, please. Don’t do this.’

‘You know I prayed for one hour today…praying you stay happy…

forever,’ Priyanka’s mother said as she broke into tears. Whoever starts

crying first always has an advantage in an argument. This works for Priyanka’s

mother, who at least has obedient tear glands, if not an obedient daughter.

‘Mom, don’t create a scene. I’m at work. What do you want from me/ I

have agreed to the boy. Now why is everyone pushing me?’

‘Isn’t Ganesh nice? What is the problem?’ her mother said in a tragic

tone that could put any Bollywood hero’s mother to shame.