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Chapter 7
Love Shmove
2008
"Go, he's alone outside. Greet him!" My sister prodded and I gave her a withering look.
"You go, he'll wait," I said.
"I'm getting ready until then you have to keep him company!" And she pushed me firmly out of the door and I stumbled outside.
The man was nervously taking a sip from the cup of coffee and looked up at me in surprise.
"Heyy... I mean, Namaste..." I tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear and sat on the opposite couch.
We both were quiet in silent contemplation.
He cleared his throat, "Never saw you around much after the engagement..."
I smiled, "Actually, I had my coaching for my board exams and I come home in the late evening..." I gave a toothy smile and then fell silent again.
He nodded and looked into his cup, "How do you feel about adding me into your...you know, family?"
What was this? An interrogation?
I was supposed to keep him company and he wanted an opinion about the marriage as if it mattered.
He was hunching his back and huddled in the corner of the couch, his checked shirt neatly tucked into his dress pants and his hair combed back, I realized I had nothing valid to complain about him. There wasn't even a speck of dust on his clothes. He was too well-groomed for my liking. Not that it mattered. Or not that it even concerned him in any way at all but only owing to the fact that he was an unknown man all my life and my parents were letting him whisk away their daughter into his life.
I couldn't imagine personally; being married to a stranger and being pressurised to fall in love with him one fine morning.
The thought made my stomach twist in dread.
Love, itself was a questionable emotion because I didn't exactly decipher what the prescribed emotions were before throwing the word around.
However, I did have sort of a tender, unreasonable, fluttery feeling for one person you might have heard quite a lot about from me.
The china teacup wobbled in the man's hand before me and I realised that in my thoughtful state, I was giving him a piercing glare unconsciously.
He adjusted his shirt and straightened his spine.
Was I imagining it or did it seem like he looked a little nervous?
His eyes occasionally darted to the door behind me.
Oh, that's what he's been expecting. Right.
"It's nice to have another....um, member in our family. It's nice." I said finally, hoping I convinced him. "Oh, and please have the jalebis. They're getting cold."
"Oh, right...." He nibbled on one that he picked from the corner of the plate, "Where are your parents?"
"They left last evening to our hometown to give out the invitations... Actually..."
I lost his concentration when the door handle turned and my sister stepped out, clad in a baby pink Kurti, fastening her delicate watch to her wrist.
I flipped my head back to her fiancé, who was inconspicuously ogling at her, not in a lewd way, but in an admiring, love-struck kind of way.
Second date together and the guy was a goner already.
"Are you ready, shall we go?" She asked him with a smile.
"Y-yes... Sure. I'll get the car." He hurriedly put down the cup and raced to the gate, sending me a farewell from a distance away.
I smirked, "He doesn't seem to like me."
"Shush!" My sister admonished, "Harish is a little shy around people initially."
My sister fastened her delicate shoes and then whipped around as if she remembered something, "You'll be all alone! Do you want me to drop you at Sanya's place? Because I'll come back a little late, I think."
"No, no!" I refused nobly. "I'm alright here. I'll be chilling at home, you guys have fun."
Siya's lips tilted upwards. "Okay, take care. Call me if anything. I'll bring you takeout."
I agreed and watched her walk away with that semi stranger.
How she had blossomed into a fine, young lady, my sister. She was just a teensy, weensy girl cramming for future exams six months in advance and now she's going to get married. Hitched.
I sighed to myself for a few moments until I realised something. This house was mine for a few hours.
I was seldom with my parents because of their jobs and business trips they had to often take but there was always my sister, overriding innocent little me with the authority of an elder sibling.
I grabbed the keys in the holder and raced down the stairs.
Siya's charcoal scooter gleamed in the parking in all its glory.
I proudly mounted it and turned on the ignition.
The vehicle was moving in an unfashionable manner while I kept moving forward, my feet occasionally supporting the vehicle from leaning on either side.
My mother, being educated in a secular, formal institution didn't think I needed to learn to drive.
Even though I was a major.
So I convinced my sister to secretly teach me.
Soon my entire hoard of friends, relatives and neighbour uncles joined this effort collectively and it was no longer a secret.
I was learning to drive for quite some time and still was trying to get the hang of it.
My mother eventually discovered and didn't admonish me as I had expected, instead, she dismissed me saying that I had poor motor skills and I didn't need to learn it anyway. Because I was a girl.
Who says that? Who says that in the twentieth century?
I'll show her, I'll swerve into her presence in a Royal Enfield, I will!
At that time, I bumped into a tree and almost lost my balance.
My feet paddled the ground as I reversed and continued practising. I think in some time, my feet didn't need to intervene and I was moving.
But something was still odd. My sister didn't look like this when she drove.
"I'm surprised that you used to drive that exact same way I saw you two years back." A voice told behind me.
I flipped my head back and held the brake, "How long were you watching me?"
Kabir half-smiled. "Since you hit that coconut tree."
"I see."
He was sporting a V-necked grey jersey and he looked like he just washed his hair, his eyes twinkling.
"Why are you so hellbent on learning to drive?" He asked. "You go and come by public transport so..."
I kicked the side stand down. "For now. Later this will be useful to know. To go places by myself."
"You can have me if you will, your personal escort." He offered, leaning on the wall.
"Thanks, but I have to stand on my own feet. Be independent."
"You know, learning to ride a bike is not what usually makes a person independent." He pointed out, "Maybe it's just not everyone's cup of tea."
I pointed a hypothetical finger at him, "Are you saying I'm a clumsy ditz and I will never learn to drive in my life?"
His eyebrows knitted together, "I never said that. "
"But you believe it. So does my mom and everyone. I'm slow in learning stuff and you conclude I can't do it!" I mumbled in a poorly articulated sorry tone.
Guilt-tripping Kabir was one of my favourite hobbies.
"No, I just thought you don't need to learn something because you think it's mandatory or something. I know you can do it. You just didn't have the right teacher."
"Where do I hire the right teacher now? NASA?"
Ignoring the sarcasm, he examined me critically. "You're sitting like you're driving a spaceship. Straighten your spine."
He came closer and held my wrist, "Hold the handlebar loosely. No need to choke it like that..."
He demonstrated throttling the handles and I noticed his long, slender fingers and the bluish veins climbing up his lean yet sinewy arms.
Ah, what an interesting teacher.
"Did you hear what I said?"
"Uh, no?"
"I told you to go straight and reverse back to me."
"I've been doing that for quite some time."
"Without putting your feet down."
"Ah."
I obediently followed his instructions and offered him a sheepish grin as I skid once and then, again regained my balance.
"Stop right here." He gestured to his feet and I thought he was insane. A girl who had no control over the vehicle and he was not cherishing his toes as much as he should.
I stopped five steps away from him because I wanted him to keep his feet intact but he motioned me to come closer and I huffed.
"I might hit you."
"If you don't want to, stop at the right place." He replied, unfazed.
I held my breath and twisted my wrist for a cinch and then halted right before his flipflops.
"Phew."
"Done already?"
"No, not at all. " I replied brightening. "And after this, I'll learn to drive your sports bike."
He chuckled behind me, "Let's stick to this first."
"Agreed."
I think I improved by a meager amount for a half-hour of practice.
"You know what?" He spoke, casually walking parallel to me struggling on a bike as if I was on horseback. The weight of the bike gave away and was leaning sideways. Kabir held the bike in place.
"Wha...?" I asked breathlessly.
"Your problem is just sitting straight and balancing your weight. You're tall enough to support the vehicle if it falls."
"Thank you very much for pointing that out."
"Welcome."
When I begged a little later, Kabir let me off the hook for the day.
"So can we have a cup of tea or something now?"
Kabir raised one eyebrow, "You want to go out with me, you mean?"
"Yes, I need sponsorship after all," I said and whirled away from him.
There were three reasons why we visited the shady little chaat shop that was partially concealed by an advertising board for pan masala.
We knew Syed Bhai for quite some time till then and he favoured Kabir with an extra tattoo that comes with a packet of gum since when we were 7.
(Kabir had the ability to enamor people from back then.)
You got Papdi chaat with some extra toppings for a menial price which we secretly agreed was a great deal.
And I doubted if anyone heard much about the little stall located behind the colony's playground which was quite favourable because we weren't all this brave to step out of the house together with all the incognito paparazzi in our apartments and owing to the fact that we didn't have much in our pocket very often.
But that day we encountered a slightly different crowd apart from the giggling middle school girls from the adjacent government school and the betel-nut chewing grumpy old ladies.
About fifteen of them, sitting around shiny motorbikes, engaged in a noisy conversation.
Their gaze shifted to me-the only female species around a few feet- when I noiselessly made my way near the counter.
Kabir took a step forward and stood before me, silently giving his order.
I wanted to tell him that he couldn't just cloud my not-very- delicate frame from some dudes' line of vision by just poising himself before me but I doubt if he'd appreciate my sense of humour.
I was instantly hit by the tantalizing fragrance of spice and sauteed onions.
One of the men flashed his pearly whites at me and there was a little food stuck in between his front teeth, a stark contrast to his arrogant wink that followed.
I wanted to roll my eyes.
"Don't keep eye contact with them..." Kabir spoke only for my hearing range. The pan sizzled in protest as a bored teenager deposited a blob of butter on it and assaulted it with a spatula.
"I'm not, did you see, he has foo--"
"Not a very nice time to be throwing comments, Shyla. They might hear you."
I shrugged and accepted the little plate in my hand. "Hey, you have extra sauce in yours!" I accused.
"Shyla?"
I turned around, ignoring Kabir's murmurs of warning and I felt a flicker of recognition at the approaching figure who suddenly enveloped me in a bear hug.
"Vikram! You...I barely recognized you!"
"I never thought I'll see any of our classmates again!" Vikram said. "How are you? What are you doing now?"
"I've applied to a few colleges for all the courses I could think of. " I replied. "You?"
"I got placed two months back.IIM... In Noida...Just visited my parents during the break now..." He smiled, and I noticed his braces were off. IIM did polish the folk quite a bit.
"That's amazing!" I declared, distracted by a tattoo or something of that sort on his neck. He looked so well-groomed and mature that I already felt like I was going down the slope. Drumbeats marching to the grave as some writer eloquently put it.
However, he was still a little of the Vikram I knew, his constant blinking, eye contact with my hair occasionally and the twitch of his mouth as if he would either burst into tears or a whole lot of laughter.
He smoothly pulled out a cellphone from his pocket and demanded my contact number and the username for my non- existent Facebook account.
After I obliged, he left me with a promise of gathering our fellow high school batch for a reunion. Which I wasn't dying to attend anytime soon.
Kabir was standing a few steps away from me, simply tossing his spoon on the plate. "Who was that?"
"My school friend... I've known him, I think... Since kindergarten..." I said, looking after his car with a nostalgic smile. "Do you know, he used to eat chalk in class. The pink ones, he just nibbled on one like it was a piece of carrot and our other classmate told him he was going to die the next day and he was bawling his eyes out in class and requested me to tell his parents not to burn his remains!"
I put a spoon into my mouth."Those were the days... "
Kabir's mouth tilted upwards a little. "Yes, I'm sure you have seen a lot in your life grandma. Those days. "
We were slowly walking back home, the sky was a shade of tangerine as the sun was dipping down into obscurity. The sound of a distant pedlar was muted down by the cawing of a choir of crows that were taking flight homeward bound.
"I was going to break his jaw when he touched you..." Kabir said from behind me.
The words he said slowly registered in my mind and I locked my eyes with his.
He easily tore his gaze away to the street.
"But he's my friend."
"I didn't know that then, did I?" He said but I still wondered about the rigidness in his voice. There was always a playful undertone when he usually spoke- at least to me.
He let out a long sigh as if he was letting something heavy out of his chest.
"You know, I've never seen that expression on your face. When you spoke to him.The way you were recounting an incident with him..."
"Oh?"
Was he jealous?Jealous is good.
It was far too enjoyable for me to correct his misapprehension and I turned away from him.
He probably thought I was dense as hell because he kicked some rubble under his feet and continued, "With me, you're a little you know, normal.."
"Normal as in?" I asked, suddenly not understanding the direction of the conversation.
"Indifferent.Unaffected also maybe."
Okay, I accept, what grew between us in three and a half years leaned towards close friendship and we probably didn't drink a tender coconut with two straws or take romantic walks in the park.
But it didn't mean what he thought it did!
I...Liked him being around.
"I mean, I get that you need your time and you might be uncomfortable at a sudden turn in conversation..."
I remembered, mortified; when he asked for a hug, me whacking him with my Commerce textbook.
"But it's just sometimes, you...Look like you don't want to be with me or you're zoning away or something."
Excuse me? I blush sometimes, okay? Was my blush not looking like a freaking blush? I demand an apology for this insulting statement!
He stopped before me. "Is that what you feel? To just be friends? Did Siya misinterpret your feelings?"
I met his eyes and hesitated. My mouth opened and closed like a fish. His expression softened. "It's okay, leave it."
His silence till we reached home was like a nail in the coffin to that conversation.
What should I say? I should probably tell him he was my first crush and of course, I did like him.
But no, that would result in awkward repercussions.
Maybe, just stop him and ask what he felt first. Ha! He never told me anything upfront either.
That's because you never gave him a damn opening! My inner voice accused within me.
I slowly scuffled alongside him feeling guilty. If I primly negate what he said it would probably look half-hearted... Oh god, I've just passed junior college, gimme a break!
I thought of ten replies at the same time, none of which I could frame meaningfully in time.
A car roared into the driveway of my block.
My sister was back.
Kabir was behind me and when I faced him, we were too close for comfort and my eyes widened a fraction and I stepped back, feeling the onslaught of his warm breath.
"See, you--" I began.
"I don't want to make you uncomfortable but it looks like I do that often anyway. I can be... Friends as we are. It's okay," He said gently.
I focused on his shoulder as if I was pleading guilty in court.
Say something!
Kabir looked like he ended the conversation but was still standing over me.
"My sister has come I think," I said.
Stupid, stupid, stupid!
A moment of silence.
He nodded. "Yeah. I also should be going then. Good night."
I held his eyes and nodded for no reason and watched him turn away home.
I wasn't shy or anything. It's just that I didn't want to jump the gun. I mean, what did I know of relationships? I couldn't just blab something that I didn't mean. I couldn't be unfair to him like that.
I sighed, watching his lean silhouette fading away into the darkness.
I'm not sure about anything that went through the jargon of my thoughts at this point.
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