When Hari Met His Saali (17 page)

‘I think I got it!’ Hari exclaimed.

Chitthi had theproud expression of ‘welcome to the big boys club’ written all over his face and wanted to hug Hari.

‘I have to meet her at the event planner’s office today,’ Hari said, looking at his watch.

Later — Malibu West Beach Club

Tia had arrived at the venue ten minutes before her scheduled appointment with the event planner, Minto. No sooner had she turned into this spectacular property her urge to get engaged there was amped up so high she felt as if she had two back-to-back mini orgasms.

As she waited for Minto she was shown around the property. Her legs were becoming jelly like. This was the kind of place that usually featured in
magazines like
Martha Stewart Weddings.
Standing at the edge of the ocean between Zuma State Beach and Broad Beach, the Malibu West Beach Club occupied one of the most desirable chunks of real estate in Southern California. Glorious white sand stretched for one hundred yards from the clubhouse to the breaking surf, and from the club’s deck there was a 180-degree panorama of the vast Pacific and miles of Malibu coastline.

She was told that ceremonies took place on the fifty-foot deck overlooking the beach and the Pacific Ocean. After the ceremony, the newlyweds and their bridal party were invited down to the beach for the quintessential California beach pictures. There was even a
Baywatch-style
lifeguard tower on which everyone could pose for a group shot.

Tia wanted to thank God, the Universe, the environment … gosh, she was just in love … in love. It was tantamount to an Oscar acceptance speech.

In her excitement she texted Hari forgetting she was supposed to be still mad at him.

Where are you? Tia.

Just then a short, slick black haired man in a sharp suit walked towards her. He introduced himself as Mr. Minto and enquired about her fiancé. Tia told him Hari was on his way. Minto was a busy man, a very busy no-nonsense wedding planner who fancied himself as a creator and an artiste (with ‘e’ at the end).

God, let him be gay, let him be gay.

It was well known to Tia that gay men were the best at this profession and no one could match their attention to detail. She immediately felt guilty for stereotyping gays, or wedding planners, or both.

How selfish of me!

She was furiously texting Hari telling him to get his ass over there ASAP.

Get your ass over here ASAP. Tia.

Minto took the time to explain more about the venue to her.

‘The reception takes place inside a room with floor to ceiling windows overlooking the beach. Sunset is never far from your view. The interior of the room is a blank canvas on which to create your own vision. Driftwood floors …’

A vision of the dream ceremony hovered in Tia’s imagination as she let the words fall on her ears. Minto continued his rehearsed pitch.

‘… georgette chiffon walls with little white lights and georgette chiffon drapes across the ceiling complete an elegant, yet beachy casual feeling. There is also a private bridal room for the bride and bridesmaids to prepare and get dressed while looking out over the ocean.’

Tia was so impressed with Minto she didn’t even realize that he had taken her into his office. He asked her to take a seat as he went to attend on the waiting clients. There, a droolingly delicious looking three-tiered wedding cake sat next to his desk. It was a work of art.

Minto sat on the extraordinarily large chair. In front of him was a young American couple. They were holding hands, sitting on the edge of their chairs, excited, eager and attentive. Tia was watching them from the sofa on the other side of the room. The American fiancé asked Minto if he could make the top tier of the cake in blueberries.

‘They are Stacy’s favorite,’ he told him. Stacy blushed.

Tia admired the American guy instantly. He knew so much about Stacy.

‘Of course, of course,’ Minto nodded. ‘This is all about you two. I am just a mere helper here.’

Minto took notes, but the American guy had one more request.

‘Oh and the tablecloths for dinner need to be champagne pink. Not just pink, but champagne pink. Another of Stacy’s favorites.’

Minto, feeling proud for the whole of Menkind, nodded excitedly.

‘Pristine. Stacy, if I may say so myself, what you have here is a man with impeccable taste, a loving and caring man who knows your every like and dislike. Your choice of him is pristine and his choice of color scheme for the wedding reception is pristine.’

There was lots of blushing going on over at the desk. At the back of the room Tia was misty-eyed at the way the American was taking initiative, being decisive and making the correct choice of champagne pink table napkins. Tia knew that any other shade of pink would just not go with the strawberry pink of the cake.

Aah, this is why the compatibility of the bride-to-be and her groom-to-be is a must.

Admittedly, this level of compatibility was a rarity, she knew, but she also knew that any man, if only he would take a conscious decision to be that compatible with his woman, could actually do it. She was glad she witnessed it in the American couple and she wanted to thank someone.

Just then, Hari entered. He was dressed in torn jeans and a washed out T-shirt. He had a couple of days’ worth of stubble on his face and was carrying his mobile and iPad. He saw Tia.

‘Sorry, sorry, I’m late,’ he said loudly. ‘The traffic was a bitch.’ He would later regret putting so much emphasis on the word ‘bitch’.

Minto and the American couple were distracted, pausing to look at the rude guy who just crashed into their meeting.

‘Shhh … be quiet,’ Tia said, embarrassed.

Hari sat down next to her. He realized that he might have been in for a scolding for being late and tried to peck her on the cheek.

‘Sorry, I always forget. You like to kiss when we meet in public, right? Like a peck on the cheek?’ he asked with the puppy dog ‘me sorry now, please’ face.

But Tia wanted to be prim and proper; this was no time for apologies.

Focus man, focus!

‘Not the right moment, Hari,’ she whispered, distancing herself from him.

Disappointed, Hari backed off, making a screeching sound with his chair.

‘Oh, sorry. Please continue,’ he said apologetically to the people in the room as everyone was looking at him astonished.

In reality Hari was a very normal guy with this chair incident amounting to nothing, but to Tia he was an
embarrassment!
She had shifted from referring to him as Hari to ‘a man’ in a jiffy. Thankfully, this was all just swirling around in her head. She crossed her legs and leaned forward as if listening to a great teacher — Minto.

As the American couple and Minto continued their meeting a ping-ping noise was sounding at regular intervals. Hari was playing Angry Birds on his iPad.

‘Hari!’ Tia whispered with clenched teeth.

‘Oh, sorry, I’ll put it on silent,’ Hari said, following Chitthi’s plan of tightening the knot just a little more.

Minto gave him a look, and then he looked at Tia with an expression that said ‘I feel sorry for you’. Tia felt Minto was judging her for her choice of man. Her nostrils flared as she continued to stare at Hari, who had his head buried in his iPad and was laughing at his success in the video game. The way he was sitting with his legs spread, with unwashed sneakers on his feet, snorting from his nose!

Gosh, you can be so juvenile sometimes.

Actually, come to think of it, Hari was always goofy, silly and juvenile like a teenager, and he was mostly unapologetic about it. Tia couldn’t wait to straighten him out in terms of manners and courtesy and appearances and …

Gosh, I am marrying this chunk of an excuse of a human being!

Tia kept looking at him and thinking that although he seemed so assembled — like he had all the right limbs and hair and stuff — but that thing, the thing that doesn’t come with the assembly kit, was missing. He was so unpolished. He was what was called an average Joe in America — the
generic, blanket description for the vast majority of men. And she chose him to be her dream man?

Tia clenched her feet together. Here we go again, the thoughts started pouring in her head. He was born and brought up in America, while she had only been in the country for a short time, but unlike him she had made an effort to adapt, to assimilate into this advanced civilization!

Does familiarity really breed contempt?
she thought.
I mean, he has so much scope to improve, but look, just look at him, he is still acting out … like a monkey …

Thankfully, her thoughts (and her rising rage) were interrupted when Minto called them to the table. The American couple had finished. Minto started his sales pitch for the various banquet hall packages. Another three-tiered cake was rolled into the office. This one was colorful, decked with rose petals and kiwi fruit, and had a papaya motif. Tia’s eyes had lit up.

‘Wow, this is a work of art, Mr. Minto! Please compliment the chef from us. I don’t think we need to see any more options, right Hari?’

Hari now had his iPad on one thigh, his Galaxy Note II mobile on the other and his Blackberry in his hands. He nodded without looking up.

‘Awesome. Yeah, yeah.’

Tia was not sure if he was reacting to something on his mobile or to the cake. She was embarrassed.

‘Would you like to taste a slice?’ Minto asked Hari.

‘
Hari
, would we like to taste a slice?’ Tia asked after Hari didn’t respond.

Hari again nodded without looking up.

‘Yeah, yeah, sure.’

An incoming email notification buzzed on his iPad. He gestured Minto with his hand, indicating ‘Just a second’.

Minto gave him a look and folded his arms. Hari opened the email. Tia was embarrassed. She turned to him, now angry.

‘You know Hari, this cake is so handsome, I feel attracted to it so I might as well marry it!’

Minto raised an eyebrow.
Ah, this should be interesting.

Hari was still busy reading his email.

‘Yeah, it’s nice!’ he responded.

Tia, now disappointed on top of being angry and embarrassed, let him have it.

‘So after I marry the cake, we’ll have our honeymoon right here in the bakery. A little flour, a little milk, a little icing …’ She paused just for the benefit of Hari, hoping he would catch on to what she was saying.

‘Of course, why not?’Hari was still engrossed in the email.

Hurt — deeply hurt — Tia looked at Minto. He had an expression of disgust, almost as if he was also feeling her pain. Humanity itself had been let down. Tia leaned forward towards Hari.

‘Then, we’ll have assorted babies. We’ll call them cupcakes. You know, one strawberry, one orange, a chocolate, a vanilla. I’ll have an affair with a pastry.’ Again she paused.

‘Great,
hai yaar.
Let’s do it!’ Hari replied, taking out his stylus.

Tia was so angry she was scared that she might burst out screaming and crying and take that unshaven neck of Hari’s and … and twist it until she could hear it snap. Then she wanted to dislodge his stupid squarish head and literally play football with it right there in Minto’s office. She had felt like that many a time, but today, at this time, she did not want to nurture the devil in her head because she was really
this
close to acting out what she was thinking …

Moments later …

Hari tried to catch up with Tia as she walked briskly to her car. She had walked out of the club and was pissed. Hari was trying to keep up with her.

‘Tia, Tia … wait. Listen,
yaar
!’ he screamed.

‘Sorry, stop running,’ Hari said, finally grabbing her. Tia turned to face him. She was now crying without hiding it.

‘Hari, I am completely stressed here,’ she said calmly. ‘We are ten days away from our engagement. I am running around all day long, making all the decisions for our engagement. Guest list, dinner seating charts, evening entertainment, dinner menu … I am doing everything. The engagement is ours after all, both yours and mine right?’ She was genuinely hurt and Hari genuinely felt bad about his behavior. He cursed Chitthi under his breath.

‘
Aye … tch
, sorry,
yaar
! There’s so much work in the office, you know I have to close this Hyderabad deal,’ he said, trying to pacify her.

The last few days had been tough on Tia and now she was really crying. He stepped forward and held her in his arms.

‘No matter, you are right, honey. I can be such a doofus sometimes. I should have been attentive in there. I am sorry,’ he said with feeling.

She was still not looking at him. Hari stepped backwards and went down on one knee. And then, Hari started singing.

‘
Shining in the setting sun like a pearl upon the ocean

Come and feel me

Girl feel me… .’

The song was from Tia’s favorite Bollywood film
Ajab Prem Ki Gazab

Kahani
and had a special meaning for her. With Hari singing earnestly but sounding ridiculous with his American accented Hindi, his efforts dislodged her anger momentarily.

A few years ago, on one of their Bollywood nights, Tia had shown him
Ajab Prem Ki Gazab Kahani
for the first time, and then for the next three months she would sing that song. It became
their song.
Hari had zero say in it, but he had learned to let her have it her way most of the time. And because he really couldn’t care less if they even had a song. If she wanted one, he was OK with her calling it
their song.

Although she wanted to hug this clueless lump of a fella, Tia decided against it and got into her car. Hari immediately got into the passenger side.

‘Hari, I am in no mood for this bullshit. Get out of my car,’ Tia said in no uncertain terms as she started the engine.

‘I have promised you that I’ll take care of you all your life so I am not leaving your side,’ Hari said, hoping more silliness would make her laugh a little, maybe even make her a little more receptive to the apology he had in his mind.