Then he burst into the loudest fake laughter he could manage, all the years of practice coming into play now. He even reached out and slapped Shiv’s knee. Shiv glared at him for taking the liberty, but Sid had his eyes closed as he said, ‘Ha … ha … ha … What a joke we’ve been having!’ He laughed for as long as he could despite the fact that neither Neha nor Shiv seemed to find it the least bit funny. Then, wiping his fake tears, he turned around to address Neha, ‘Neha! You never told me your cousin was such a riot! Ha ha ha…’
His fake laughter faded and died in his throat as he caught sight of the look on her face.
‘T
amatar kitne ke diye, bhaiya?’
Sid had never imagined he would sound so much like his mother. But that wasn’t a problem. After all, Mandira was gone and he was taking care of his own home. And he resolved that he would manage it better than she ever did. Look at him. Only this week she had moved out and here he was, already at the local vegetable shop. He wasn’t going to allow himself to slip into the old pizza routine. He had to take care of himself and he would. This trip to the sabziwala was just the beginning of a new series of mini-adventures. Sid was now a confirmed bachelor. He didn’t need any women in his life.
None.
The look on her face was fresh in his mind, as if it had happened just yesterday. Well, it actually had, but still.
Angrier than he had ever seen her before. In fact, he realized, he had never even seen her angry before.
‘What,’ she had finally broken the silence, saying through clenched teeth, ‘the hell do you think you are playing at, Sid?’
He swallowed and said, ‘Look, Neha, it was just a joke, I was…’
Shiv, watching curiously, alternately gazing at Neha and Sid, ventured, ‘Didi…’
‘Give us a minute, Shiv.’
‘I’ll be out on the balcony.’ Shiv was off like a shot.
Now they were alone. Sid blurted out, ‘Listen, I didn’t know he was your cousin, otherwise…’
‘Otherwise, what?’ Neha cried. ‘Even if he wasn’t my cousin, you can’t barge in here and randomly start saying stupid things about me! Are you nuts?’
‘No … Not as such,’ Sid murmured, and then added, louder, ‘Look, I’ll explain it to him…’
‘You explain it to me first. What’s wrong with you?’
Sid kept quiet. What could he possibly say? That he had been driven crazy with insecurity and jealousy? That he had been afraid of being ousted from her affections by some old boyfriend? No way. His ego would never allow it.
‘I don’t know why.’ His tone was sullen. ‘It was just a joke. I thought he looked a bit uptight and I wanted to get him to loosen up. I was just pushing his buttons a bit, that’s all.’
‘That’s not good enough, Sid. No one
does
that. What are you not telling me?’
Somehow he couldn’t bring himself to apologize. So he decided to employ the Mandira tactic: go on the offensive.
‘What am I not telling you? I’m telling you
nothing
because you know you’ve barely replied to my messages all of this week.’
‘Sid,’ Neha hissed, ‘I just told you … Kippy has been sick this week with food poisoning. I haven’t had time to even think. Surely, you can understand that?’
‘I do, I get that, but I’ve had important things going on too
–
the trip I was messaging you about and I wanted to tell you that Mandira’s moved out, and…’
‘But that’s
your
agenda. And I’ve been busy with mine. We need to respect that and give each other some space.’
‘Space!’ Sid scoffed. He didn’t know what made him say the next words. ‘Oh I understand. I guess my time is up. Perhaps you want to move on and find the next “interesting person”, the next specimen. I know you collect us. Kind of like insects.’
The blood drained from Neha’s face. Sid could almost see her anger change from hot to cold fury.
When she spoke again, it was in a very quiet voice. ‘This was stupid
–
stupid from the start. There’s no way you were ready for any form of relationship. All you do is use people to feel better about yourself. How silly of me to think that you would grow up enough to actually bother about someone else.’
Sid couldn’t muster up the courage to say another word. He heard everything she said, but didn’t quite register it. His ears were still ringing from the horrible things
he
had said to her. What was
wrong
with him?
‘The funny part is,’ she went on, ‘I was telling Aditi and Shiv barely an hour back that I’ve decided to let Kapil see Kippy. And that was because of you … because you’ve got no bitterness about your marriage even though it’s over.’ Her short laugh had no humour in it whatsoever. ‘Hilarious, no? Trying to follow
your
example when it comes to relationships.’
Sid opened his mouth, but she had a faraway look in her eyes, and was talking more to herself than him. He saw the tears she stubbornly held back glistening in her eyes. Her tone
was almost dead. ‘You never even bothered to ask Kippy’s real name. I should have known right then.
That
showed how much you care.’
Sid froze. That killed it, right there. He couldn’t possibly say anything to that.
Without a word he turned and headed towards the door and let himself out. He shut it quietly behind him, painfully aware that Neha hadn’t moved an inch to stop him. Why would she, though?
It was only when he was standing alone in the hallway that he muttered softly to himself, ‘Kalpana Cauvery Mehra.’
An unusual name. Sid had seen it on Kippy’s day-care diary the very first time that he visited Neha at home. He remembered noting that she had kept the Coorg connection in the middle name and still allowed the father’s Punju last name. How did it matter now? He turned and walked towards the elevator.
Sid had been about to turn the key to open the car door when it occurred to him what Neha had said: ‘I told Aditi and Shiv just an hour back…’
He sighed. Then he turned and walked with renewed purpose towards Aditi’s building. With every step, his already black mood became blacker and he was almost trembling with anger by the time he reached Aditi’s door.
She answered the doorbell and her smile froze on her face at his dark expression.
‘What’s wrong, Sid?’
‘Don’t you “what’s wrong, Sid” me,’ he snapped.
If she was taken aback, she managed to conceal it well. ‘Arrey? What is it? Will you come in?’
‘No.’ He had to fight hard to keep his voice under control. ‘I just want a minute with you, out here in the hall.’
Aditi stared at him for a moment and then came out, gingerly closing the door behind her.
‘You knew,’ he hissed.
‘Knew what?’ Her tone was defensive and Sid knew her well enough to sense the under-current of guilt.
‘That he was her
cousin
– you had just met him. But you didn’t tell me that. You
wanted
me to go and make an ass of myself.’
Aditi protested, ‘Hey! You lied too! You acted like it was an evening planned for the three of you. I was just…’
‘… just trying to sabotage Neha and me,’ he finished for her.
‘What nonsense, you…’
‘Shut up, Aditi.’
She was stunned. He had never spoken to her in that tone before.
‘First,’ he said through clenched teeth, ‘you drove us all nuts trying to get Neha and me together. And then, the minute we started getting close, you had a problem with it. Why, Aditi? Do you have a problem with anyone else actually being happy? Oh yes … how else would you then get to play Miss Problem Solver and Oh-so-Caring Friend? Right?’
Aditi gasped. Sid felt his ears getting even hotter. He knew he should walk away now, but he had to have it out with her. This time she had gone too far.
‘It’s always been the same, right, Adu? Right from the start. You were always so worried and sorry for me because things weren’t good for me with Mandira. But it made you feel so good about Krish and you, right? You could sit there on your pedestal and look down with pity at me. It infuriated
you initially because I didn’t let on how bad it really was, not because you cared…’ He paused but then decided to go ahead and say it, ‘Because you wanted to know for certain, you wanted me to admit that I was miserable. Well, I was miserable. I’m miserable now, too. And I hope that makes you happy.’
Sid wasn’t sure if he was deliberately hurting her because of his fight with Neha and the unpalatable things Neha had said to him. But it felt right. Aditi deserved to know what he truly thought, so he might as well finish this and be done with it.
‘You had your chance, Aditi.’ His voice was softer now. ‘Years ago. You knew it, but it wasn’t good enough for you. You waited, and then you chose Krish. That’s fine, it’s always been fine. But to keep me around … keep me close, getting pleasure from the fact that I could never be happy? That was low.’
At these words, Aditi slowly turned away from him. She stepped into her house and shut the door behind her.
Sid stared after her for a few seconds and then turned and walked away.
But today was a new day, Sid comforted himself brightly as he peered at the bhindi in the shop. It was all good, GOOD. He acted as if he knew which of the bhindi were good, randomly selecting a few to toss into the basket.
Hah! Only a day later and he could
feel
himself getting over it already. Neha and he obviously were never meant to be. That was fine. Sid wasn’t going to ruminate over it. Ruminating was what women did. Not him.
And today, for the first time ever, he would cook himself a desi meal. A simple yet healthy treat. What would he cook? Oh
damn! Perhaps he should have looked up some recipes online so that he would know what to buy. But never mind. He would get a little bit of everything. Sid proceeded to cheerfully pile into his basket copious quantities of all the vegetables he could set his eyes on. There was aaloo, gobi, tamatar, shimla-mirch, lauki … what was this? No, he didn’t want karela. And this was what tori looked like? Cool. Off into the basket with you … and you … and you, he told each of the vegetables. Then he marched over and stood behind a fat lady, patiently waiting his turn to be billed. Life was too busy to think, especially to think about hurtful things like how
all
his so-called best friends had turned out to be backstabbers.
The fat lady finally waddled away with her purchase and Sid stepped up to the counter, putting his basket on it.
So much drama women caused, he thought, as he put his basket on the counter. Hanging out with women was just not worth it. Best friends, girlfriends, wives
–
all horrible, crazy people. Yes, he was so much better off like this. Alone.
The shopkeeper billed all his vegetables, expertly bunging them into a large plastic bag. He produced a bill of three hundred and thirty-six rupees and Sid took out a five-hundred-rupee note. It felt so good to be independent, to be doing these things by yourself. So much pleasure in these little domestic acts. Sid decided to buy vegetables everyday irrespective of whether or not he needed them. He gave the shopkeeper a friendly grin that seemed to startle the fellow. The man recovered quickly enough and accepted Sid’s money. He then counted out and handed back a hundred-rupee note, six tenners and … Sid did a double take. A wooden ice-cream spoon? He looked up questioningly at the fellow.