Like a Love Song

by Nikita Singh

  Siddhant: I understand if you don’t want to talk to me anymore. But I would really appreciate another chance.

  She didn’t know how to respond. She thought about calling Laila up immediately, but decided against it. She had to follow her instincts on this one; no one else could give her an answer. Maahi thought back to the evening she had spent with Siddhant, playing Mario Kart with him and his roommate while his other roommate was passed out on the couch. She remembered how Siddhant smiled surreptitiously when she came last in the first couple of rounds. She remembered how he touched her waist while walking her to the Metro station. She could still feel his fingers there.

  She hadn’t seen him since that night. It had been over two weeks, and regardless of what had happened and how hurt she had been by his behaviour, when she thought about seeing him again, she felt excited. She texted him back: ‘Okay’.

  Siddhant dropped by the coffee shop to say hi late the next evening, just before closing. Maahi wanted to get under the counter and meet him on the other side, in the hope of a half hug, or any kind of physical reassurance of his presence. But she had to settle for his lopsided grin. The first thing Maahi noticed was how worn out he looked.

  ‘Hey,’ he said, stopping in front of the counter.

  ‘You look so tired.’

  ‘Oh, thanks. You see me and the first thing you say is “God, you look shitty”. Nice!’

  ‘No,’ Maahi said. ‘No. I didn’t mean it like that. I was just saying, well, that you do look like you haven’t slept in a while.’

  ‘Because I haven’t. The internship’s been crazy and I have so much studying to do. There’s time for little else, including sleep.’

  ‘Showering too?’ Laila asked from behind Maahi.

  ‘You must be Laila. I’m Siddhant.’ He offered her his hand. ‘I’ve heard a lot about you.’

  ‘Can’t say the same.’ Laila shook his hand.

  Maahi laughed nervously. She was afraid Laila would scare Siddhant off. ‘She’s being mean for no reason. It’s just her personality. Don’t take it personally,’ she said.

  ‘That’s alright. It’s not as if you’re any less mean!’ Siddhant said.

  ‘Ha!’ Laila laughed loudly. ‘See what happens when you turn against your friend? Now Sid and I are going to gang up against you.’

  ‘Oh God. It’s not like you both individually aren’t enough pain for me already; I don’t think I can handle the two of you together.’

  ‘Nothing you can do. You chose this life.’ Laila shrugged dramatically.

  ‘No escape,’ Siddhant added.

  ‘I feel so attacked right now!’ Maahi complained.

  ‘Not for much longer. I’m going to bounce now. Are you coming?’ Laila asked.

  Maahi looked from her to Siddhant, who said, ‘I would like to hang out with you for a bit, unless that’s inconvenient?’

  ‘No, she can stay,’ Laila answered for Maahi, turning towards her. ‘Don’t stay out too late and text me when you get home, okay?’

  ‘Yes, Mom.’

  ‘Good girl. And it was nice to meet you, Sid.’ Laila squeezed Maahi quickly and got her stuff to leave.

  ‘Pleasure,’ Siddhant said.

  Laila left a silence behind her. Maahi and Siddhant looked at each other, smiled and looked away. Things had just begun to get awkward when Siddhant asked, ‘What was today’s cupcake?’

  ‘drunken butter rum.’

  ‘You’re kidding!’

  ‘Nope. For real,’ Maahi said. ‘And you missed it—it was quite a hit. We sold out!’

  ‘I don’t get to taste it? I can’t believe this! Damn it—that sounds delicious.’ In that moment, Siddhant looked like a child. Maahi wondered if he was pretending to care about her cupcakes or really did care about them, but his face left little doubt in her mind.

  ‘I can bake you a fresh batch.’

  ‘Really?’ Siddhant’s face lit up in a wide smile.

  ‘You’re such a child,’ Maahi said. On impulse, she leaned over the counter and pressed his nose with her finger lightly.

  ‘And you’re so awesome,’ Siddhant said, following her to the kitchen.

  ‘You’re just saying that because I’m baking cupcakes for you!’ Maahi turned on the lights and gathered her baking gear. She laid down a counter mat and placed a large mixing bowl on it. She took out a set of measuring cups, whisks and spatulas, and laid out a cooling rack next to the oven. ‘Can you hand me those baking sheets, from the top drawer?’

  ‘This one?’ Siddhant asked, showing her a set of three baking sheets of different sizes.

  ‘The two bigger ones. Do you want to take some home with you? For Eshaan and Alia, assuming she’s alive, of course.’ Maahi smiled.

  ‘Yeah, she survived somehow. Alive and well. I’m sure they’d love some cupcakes. Who wouldn’t?’

  ‘You’re just being fake at this point. So obvious.’

  ‘I’m not! I really do love cupcakes. Your cupcakes.’ Siddhant brought the baking sheets to her and placed them on the counter. He stood against the granite platform, close to where Maahi was standing facing the counter on his right.

  ‘You see—right there? You could’ve wrapped it up at “I love cupcakes”—honest, believable; but you had to take it further and ruin it.’ Maahi laughed. She measured butter and sugar and began beating them.

  ‘I’m being honest. It’s not my fault you don’t know how to take a compliment, or even recognize one.’

  Maahi looked up from her mixing bowl at him.

  ‘Why do you think I came here all the time? It’s not like there’s no other place I could get a cupcake in Delhi and Gurgaon. Hell, I wasn’t even into cupcakes that much. It’s these,’ Siddhant motioned to her baking gear in general, ‘that I’ve become addicted to. Although I guess you’re right. It’s not just the cupcakes, it’s you too. You with your beautiful eyes. I come here for both.’

  Maahi blushed and bent her head lower, busying herself with cracking eggs and adding them to the bowl, trying to hide herself from him, which was difficult with him standing less than two feet away.

  ‘See? No idea how to take a compliment. And I really do admire the work you do. I mean, God, I could never do it. It’s fascinating to see how your brain works, coming up with ideas, mixing up these crazy ingredients together. I can never forget the one that you made with pickle and ice cream. Or the one with Eggs Benedict on top—that one didn’t even look like a cupcake! Where are you getting these? That crazy head of yours. You’re not afraid to try anything. I know you don’t want to hear it—but it’s quite amazing.’ Siddhant pushed the hair back from her face and tucked it behind her ear. ‘Are you going to speak, like, ever?’

  His fingers were still behind her ear. Maahi cleared her throat. ‘Cupcake moulds,’ she said, pulling open the cabinet on her left. ‘Which ones do you want? You get to pick from these.’

  Siddhant chuckled to himself. Maahi didn’t look at him.

  ‘I’ll take the round ones. I don’t really care about the shape though,’ Siddhant said, tongue-in-cheek.

  ‘You’re terrible!’

  ‘What? I’m just talking about the cupcakes. I only care about the taste. What did you think I was saying?’

  ‘You know what,’ Maahi said. She measured flour and added it to her mixing bowl, along with baking soda and salt.

  ‘You’ve got a dirty mind. Appearances can be misleading, I’m learning.’

  Maahi changed the topic. ‘Now, tell me what kind you want. The drunken butter rum or some other kind? Let me see what we’ve got here … I can do something with coffee, or green tea. I’ve got almonds, pistachios, honey butter, dates, sprinkles—I’ve got a lot of stuff. What do you want?’ She felt warmed by his compliments and wasn’t ashamed of almost bragging at this point.

  ‘Surprise me.’ The lopsided smile was in place.

  ‘How about almond cupcakes with whipped almond buttercream frosting? Or, ooh, we could try coffee cupcakes with whipped
chocolate frosting? Seeing the child that you are though, I’m almost game to try Oreo cupcakes with Oreo buttercream frosting.’

  ‘Works for me. I love Oreos.’

  ‘What a surprise,’ Maahi said, shaking her head. ‘I love having you as my child. I could totally get used to this.’

  ‘Oh yeah? Don’t challenge me—I can grow up real fast.’ Siddhant was looking at her with fake seriousness.

  ‘God, you’re shameless, aren’t you?’

  ‘Don’t pretend that you don’t love it.’

  ‘Seriously, stop,’ Maahi said. ‘Let me concentrate.’

  Siddhant brought his finger to his lips and shut up. Maahi couldn’t look away from the finger, and his lips, but forced herself to tear her eyes away. Siddhant behaved himself for the rest of the night. Maahi had mixed feelings about that. She was productive—the Oreo cupcakes came out great—but she missed his teasing eyes and cheesy lines.

  When she was finished baking, they laid out the batch on the cooling rack, waiting to be decorated, and set to cleaning. The simple task of wiping down the counter and putting everything back where it belonged felt oddly satisfying. Siddhant helped her with it. They settled into a comfortable partnership—quiet and harmonious.

  Maahi topped a dozen cupcakes with Oreo buttercream frosting and boxed them for Siddhant. She went out to the counter to get a paper bag for the box and Siddhant followed her, turning off the kitchen lights behind them. They walked towards the door together. When Maahi reached out for the doorknob, Siddhant held her hand and stopped her. She turned and looked up at him.

  ‘I need a proper good night,’ Siddhant said.

  Maahi’s chest fell and rose again, higher.

  Siddhant rested both his hands on her waist and pulled her up into his arms. He bent towards her and Maahi rose on her toes to meet him. His open lips touched hers and they stayed there, very still, for a sweet, torturous moment before he let his lips close around hers. He pulled her closer and she found herself cocooned in his warm embrace as he kissed her.

  Maahi rested her palm on his cheek, feeling his stubble, her fingers tracing his jaw, coming to rest at his chin. Siddhant’s lips moved around hers and she responded, sucking on his lower lip. She dropped her mouth down to his chin, held it between her teeth lightly and bit. They laughed softly. Maahi hid her face under his neck. He kissed the top of her head.

  Like every time he touched her, long after they had broken their embrace, walked out of the coffee shop and said their second, and much paler, goodbye at the Metro station, Maahi felt herself in Siddhant’s arms. She could still feel his chest against her face. She could still feel his soft heartbeat, and taste his lips.

  12

  They didn’t put a label on it. They didn’t call it anything. They didn’t talk about it at all. They took it one day at a time, one date at a time. Over the next few weeks, Maahi got caught up in preparation for her final semester and Siddhant with his. They managed to find time for each other, making sure they met at least twice a week. When it got harder for plans to work out, Siddhant dropped by the coffee shop for a hello and a cupcake. They enjoyed each other’s company, talking to each other, sharing the events of their days with each other before falling asleep.

  Just to be able to talk to Siddhant about her day was a huge blessing for Maahi. She was having a really hard time at college. Although she had submitted all her assignments on time, she was still behind on her preparation for exams. And it wasn’t as if she couldn’t sit down, get her shit together and do it. It was that she didn’t want to.

  When she looked at her syllabus, she felt lost. She questioned what she was doing. When she looked at her life from an outsider’s perspective, she saw a girl trying to do something out of a misplaced sense of responsibility, to make her parents happy. She could keep doing it, continue her education, get a degree. But then what?

  Does she continue living the farce and get a job in market research or economic consultancy and spend her life analysing credit and finance? When she looked at her future, at that life, she saw nothing but darkness. It wasn’t for her. She wasn’t meant for that.

  She wanted to create. She wanted the satisfaction of putting together something from scratch, by starting with odd bits and pieces and ending up with a tangible end product, something she could see, smell, touch and taste. That’s the person she was, not someone who sat at the office and punched numbers.

  She continued to go to college, study business economics, score decent grades and keep her parents and the neighbourhood aunties happy. But it had an expiration date. The conversation she needed to have with her parents would be a tough one, possibly the toughest of her life. But if she kept quiet and continued what she was doing, she would have to have the same conversation three more semesters later. There was no escape. It made sense to her to save some time and tuition fee while she was at it.

  Yet, something held her back. Maybe it was the fear of knowing she would have nothing to fall back on. No degree to find her a job if she ever needed support. Maybe it was the thought of seeing herself working at the coffee shop forever, eventually hating it, resenting it for being the thing that made her give up her safe degree. Maybe it was the thought that she would never be able to earn respect in her parents’ eyes, being a twelfth-pass girl, making them the target of all sorts of questions and comments in their society and neighbourhood.

  It saddened her to not be able to do what she wanted to the most—bake. Her parents had always assumed it was a hobby that would come to an end when she grew up and got a real job after college. But what if the meaning of growing up for her was the realization of what she really wanted to do with her life? And what if it didn’t align with her parents’ hopes and expectations?

  She had to think it through before saying anything to them. They would ask questions—many, many questions—that she wouldn’t have answers to if she went in unprepared. Maahi looked at her course books with a sigh. She really didn’t want to study for her exams, but failing the semester would only put her parents in a worse mood and she couldn’t have that on top of everything.

  She knocked on Sarthak’s door twice before pushing it open.

  ‘What’s up?’ her brother slipped his headphones down to his neck and asked. He was sitting at his study table, several tabs open on the laptop in front of him.

  ‘What do you want to do with your life?’ Maahi asked, slumping down on the edge of his bed, next to his chair.

  He rotated it towards her and laughed. ‘What? What do you mean?’

  ‘I mean after twelfth. Next year.’

  ‘Career wise? I told you—mechanical engineering. I’m confused between aerospace and acoustical, but I’m not too worried about it yet. We’ll see,’ Sarthak said, shrugging.

  ‘Ugh, I hate you,’ Maahi moaned and fell back on his bed.

  ‘What’s up with you? Why all the drama?’ Sarthak was laughing, which made Maahi madder.

  ‘My life.’

  ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘I’m fucked. I’m fucked, I’m fucked,’ Maahi kept repeating.

  ‘Is everything okay?’ Laila asked, setting her bag down on Sarthak’s bed, next to Maahi’s limp body. Laila sat down beside her and shook her. ‘Maahi! What’s going on with you?’

  Maahi hadn’t moved or said anything in a while. She just lay there quietly, and every time Sarthak asked her a question, she repeated ‘I’m fucked’ under her breath. Sarthak had tried to ignore her in the beginning, but got annoyed and concerned after the first hour or so. That’s when he called Laila for help.

  ‘I’m fucked,’ Maahi said, opening her eyes.

  ‘What? How? What happened?’ Laila’s perfect eyebrows burrowed together to form a small hill in the centre.

  ‘I’m fucked, I’m fucked, I’m fucked.’

  ‘Dude. Stop being weird,’ Laila said.

  ‘Seriously. You’re scaring me now,’ Sarthak added.

  ‘I’m fuc—’

  ‘Sa
y it one more time and I swear to God I’m going to slap you across your stupid face,’ Laila said. Maahi shut up. ‘Now, be a normal person and tell me what’s up. Did Sid do something?’

  ‘Who’s Sid?’ Sarthak asked.

  ‘Shh! He doesn’t know,’ Maahi said, sitting up.

  ‘Well, if you don’t speak I’m going to keep asking questions. So just tell us what’s up,’ Laila said.

  Maahi took a long breath and released it, slumping down, her head bent in dejection. ‘I don’t know where to start, what to do, or if this is even possible or will forever stay a dream. But I feel like if I don’t do it now, if we don’t do this now, we’ll never do it. So I’m going to ask you, and you don’t have to feel any kind of pressure, because I’m planning to do what I love, what I want and I want you to do what you want too. Although, what you say more or less decides whether I get to do what I love and want or not. So, respond in one word, make it quick and painless.’ Both Laila and Sarthak were looking at her with bored, annoyed but somewhat curious expressions. Maahi held Laila’s eyes and asked, ‘Will you open a bakery with me?’

  ‘YAAS!’ Laila jumped to her feet. ‘Oh my God, yes! Of course. I’ve been thinking about this since forever, but you had your college and you’re basically a kid—

  ‘Hey, I’m twenty-one. Almost twenty-two!’

  ‘—and I didn’t know if you were serious about baking as a career. But God, yes. Let’s do it. I get to quit my job, we get to quit Cozy Coffee and bake in an actual bakery, with an actual cookie of the day and cupcake of the day, we’ll have our own space, our own rules, there won’t be anyone holding us back and we can experiment and do what we want. We’ll have a cool logo and a cool name and T-shirts and caps and business cards. Oh, I thought you’d never ask!’ When Laila’s outburst of excitement simmered down, she sat on the bed and squeezed Maahi tight. ‘You’ll officially be my work wife.’

  Maahi felt exhilarated and relieved and terrified. She hugged Laila back, thinking back to the first time she had met her, when Laila had tried to sell her the cookie of the day. She would never have imagined how her life would turn upside down, it all starting with that accidental meeting. When she tried to see what her future could be like, she didn’t see darkness anymore. She saw hope.