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Familiar Strangers

Page 8

by Samah


  As the time to leave drew closer, Priya’s nervousness started to build again. And her appetite dipped. This weekend may change everything for us . . . She managed to have half a bowl of soup and a paratha for lunch.

  At 2 p.m. there was still no word from Chirag about when they would leave. He would call the minute he knew himself, so there was no need to ask him. After packing up, she set her cupboard for the week and took out a novel from the book cabinet. With Deepali’s help, she changed the bed sheet and cover, cleared the shelf under the TV and reorganized her dressing table. In honour of the two days she was getting off, Deepali wiped the shelves and mirrors with dedication. Then they shifted the operation to Aryan’s room.

  Once the house was reorganized and reeking of Dettol, Priya went to get ready. She took a long, leisurely shower, shampooing her hair thrice and even using hair conditioner. After her bath she wrapped her hair in a towel and slipped into a sleeveless, white cotton dress that ended a little below the knees. It was narrow at the waist and wide at the hem.

  When Priya examined herself in the mirror, she was pleased. Her arms could be thinner, her hips narrower, but she was pleased. This dress had a special place in her heart. It was a birthday gift from Chirag. She clutched its sides as if it would allow her to touch the memory she was reminiscing.

  On an inexplicable impulse, Priya opened a drawer in the chest beside the book cabinet. It held old CDs, a defunct DVD player, two unused candles and stacks of photo albums. Sitting on the floor, she skimmed through the albums till she found the one she wanted. The sheets were stuck together, and she carefully pulled them apart. After a couple of minutes, Priya finally found the photograph she was looking for.

  It had been taken on her birthday almost seven years ago. The three of them had gone on a day-long picnic to Lonavala. She had worn the same white dress. They drove atop a hill and found an open space to set up camp. Priya had brought a straw mat which the breeze kept threatening to blow away. They fixed it to the spot with weights on all its corners—two water bottles on one, the picnic basket on the other, Priya’s handbag on the third and their phones and the camera on the fourth. Then they sat in the middle, drinking orange juice and eating burgers they had got packed from McDonald’s. Aryan dozed off after eating. They put him in the back seat of their car and went back to the mat to enjoy the windy afternoon.

  All the photographs filled Priya with warmth, but one in particular held her attention more than the others. Chirag had captured just the two of them while Aryan was fast asleep in the car parked ahead.

  Priya was mystified as she stared at the two people kissing in the photograph. Was it really her and Chirag? They looked like they were in love. They looked carefree and happy. She remembered him, as if it was just yesterday, asking her to kiss him for the photograph. Priya had found all the pictures outrageous except the first, which they eventually got developed. Chirag’s lips were pressed against hers as she stifled a surprised smile. Her hair was ruffled because of the wind, and Chirag’s left arm was outstretched, disappearing halfway at the end of the photograph.

  Priya closed her eyes and tried to replay the moment in her head. The memory was faint but managed to spread a shy smile on her face even now. When she opened her eyes, they fell upon another photograph that had been taken a few moments after their little kissing stunt. Aryan had woken up from his nap. When he came out of their car, he wasn’t pleased at the sight. He used to be overly possessive about Priya back then, and he ran and sat in the middle, pushing his father away. Then he asked that a picture be taken with him immediately. They knew that if there was anything the boy loathed more than his mother making him get a haircut, it was his mother showering too much love on his father. Aryan had outgrown the feeling by his next birthday.

  As Priya looked intently at Aryan wedged between her and Chirag, an unpleasant thought struck her. Was Aryan in some way responsible for the cracks that had appeared in their marriage? Her body tensed immediately. Guilt flooded her even though it had been a fleeting, unwarranted thought. She kissed Aryan in the photograph and closed the album.

  Just then her phone rang, cutting through her thoughts and bringing her back to the present. That has to be Chirag . . . Finally.

  21

  Chirag was just leaving from work when he called Priya. He asked her to meet him at the gate of their building by 3 p.m. But at 3.01 p.m., he was wrestling through a sudden downpour, still eight to ten minutes away. He called her again. She was already waiting at the gate, two bags in one hand, an umbrella in the other. With some juggling around, she managed to answer.

  ‘Yeah, Chirag.’

  ‘I’m stuck in a jam at the signal outside. It’ll take me another five minutes.’

  ‘Okay, I’m waiting at the gate.’

  ‘No, no. You’ll get wet. Go back in. I’ll come inside the building.’

  ‘No, it’s okay. You come. I’m outside.’

  ‘I might take longer. The traffic is bad. Just please go back in no, Priya. I’ll call you,’ he said.

  She smiled. Then she went to the lobby and waited.

  An hour into their drive, Chirag started looking for something. He felt his trouser pockets, then opened the glove compartment, then felt about the centre console, finally locating the pack of chewing gum in his breast pocket. Priya thought he might be hungry.

  ‘I’ve packed aloo parathas for the way. Do you want them now?’

  ‘Yes,’ he said, having barely eaten lunch.

  The rain made the drive to Karjat longer but more scenic. They drove along the lush greenery in a comfortable silence that only two people who have spent a lot of time together can have. It was after a long time that they were in just each other’s company outside their home and the monotony that came with it. Raindrops grazed Priya’s face—Aryan’s mother missed him, but Chirag’s wife was enjoying the quiet company of her husband.

  Next to her, Chirag’s mind was a mess of tangled thoughts. He was surprised to see her in the white dress. He was surprised to see her at ease—smiling, talking. It had been so different the night before. One moment he thought he should talk to her, the other he thought it would be a mistake to do so.

  With a little help from the GPS, Chirag managed to find Karan’s bungalow. As they approached the wrought-iron gate, Priya began to feel the sort of anxiety that comes before a school exam. In a way this was an exam—one her marriage had to take, and hopefully pass.

  A short gravel path led their car into the magnificent plot. One look at it, both Priya and Chirag knew Karan had indeed done well for himself.

  Chirag parked. It wasn’t dark yet but the faint sounds coming from the house told them the party had already begun. It seemed that a handful of people had arrived before them.

  As Priya landed unsteadily on the ground, stretching her cramped legs, she reminded herself to be at her elegant best this weekend. She picked up their bags from the boot of the car and Chirag took them from her when he was out. Rain had softened the edges of Karjat, making everything redolent with its distinct muddy smell.

  The bungalow was lavishly decorated. Priya wanted to walk through the lawn spread out in front of the house, take a closer look at the stone fountain that stood at the centre, inspect the tiny pebbles that lined the path, ask Sakshi about the bougainvillea flowers. But more than anything, she wanted to know if Kanika had arrived.

  Leaving the exploration for later, Priya gingerly followed Chirag inside. She didn’t want to miss anything.

  As soon as they entered, they were engulfed in a spate of greetings, handshakes, fist bumps, backslaps, and hugs and kisses. Priya recognized a few faces. There was Niharika, Sakshi’s neighbour. Karan’s parents were at one end of the living room, sitting at the twelve-seater dining table. They looked as if they didn’t know what to do with all the space. They were staying only for the first night, Sakshi had told her.

  The bartender looked familiar too. Upon closer inspection, she realized it was Sakshi’s housekeeper. A
server in a uniform offered her a welcome drink. Then Sakshi called her to the dining table and went into the kitchen herself. Priya and Sakshi’s mother-in-law made courteous small talk. Niharika walked across the hall and joined them.

  Priya noted the dimly lit lamps that marked every corner of the room, as she nodded politely at what Sakshi’s mother-in-law was telling her, something about her recent visit to the doctor. Kanika had not arrived yet, and Priya’s eyes went to the door every few minutes. Chirag was perched on a bar stool, talking to Karan. He should have changed out of his formals, Priya thought.

  The click of bottle caps sounded. Karan, being the perfect host, was passing around bottles of chilled beer.

  ‘Cheers,’ Chirag said, clinking his bottle with Karan’s.

  ‘Sakshi,’ Karan shouted over the noise. ‘Come and join us.’

  She brought them a plate of chips and dip. ‘Yeah?’ she said.

  ‘Oho. Leave all this now. Tell Shivram to do it . . . Shivram!’ he said.

  ‘He’s already doing something, Karan.’

  ‘Okay. But we’re starting with drinks. What do you want?’ he asked, unloading a fresh crate of beer.

  Why can’t Chirag ask me for a drink? Priya thought.

  I wish Priya hadn’t stopped drinking, Chirag thought.

  ‘Priya,’ Karan said, walking towards the dining table. ‘What can I get you?’

  She felt Chirag’s eyes on her.

  ‘Thanks for asking,’ she said. ‘What are my options?’

  ‘Uh . . . There’s beer, vodka, whiskey, wine, gin . . . Do we have gin, Sakshi?’ he asked, turning towards her.

  ‘No. We didn’t order it, eventually,’ she said, serving chips around.

  ‘Sorry, no gin. But there’s everything else. What do you want?’

  ‘I’ll have a glass of wine.’

  ‘Red or white?’

  ‘White, please.’

  ‘One white wine coming right up. Niharika, what about you?’

  Chirag was looking intently at Priya. He took another sip of his beer. Then he looked away.

  22

  By 8 p.m. the house was crowded with friends and relatives, the latter more than Priya had expected Sakshi to invite. Even friends who rarely showed up on other occasions had made the effort to come. She was meeting Akhil after at least two years. Shlok even longer. But the person whose arrival Priya anticipated the most was still absent. Maybe she’s not coming after all. Priya was not sure how she felt about the possibility of a no-show from Kanika, but at the moment, she was relieved.

  Chirag was on his third beer, moving around, talking to old friends, just like Priya, but at no one point were the two talking to the same set of people. It was as if they were deliberately trying to be on the opposite ends of the room. Then Priya caught hold of Sakshi. She wanted to use the washroom.

  ‘Madam, can you tell me where my room is? I want to go freshen up. By the way, good job on the house. It’s gorgeous, Sakshi,’ she said.

  ‘I haven’t shown you the place! Where are your bags?’

  Priya motioned to a side of the living room where all the guests had unceremoniously deposited their luggage. No one, apart from the family, had ventured beyond the ground floor since entering the bungalow.

  ‘Bring them. I’ll show you your room. Come.’

  Priya kept her wine glass on a corner table and picked up their bags, realizing Chirag and she might have to share a room with another couple because, even though the place seemed big, there was already a considerable number of guests.

  The two women climbed up, discussing the mural paintings along the staircase. The house was done up in earthy tones. One side of the wall on each floor had exposed brickwork. There were five bedrooms on the first floor, the smallest of which would be bigger than most master bedrooms in city houses. The largest room on that floor, right opposite the stairway, was allotted to Karan’s parents. The room next to it, which was almost as big, would accommodate two older couples. The third room was for three stags. The fourth, smallest of all, hadn’t been allotted to anyone yet. They entered the fifth room which was to be Priya and Chirag’s.

  ‘Only you and Chirag are staying here,’ Sakshi told Priya with a knowing, purposeful smile. Priya felt embarrassed, grateful and relieved, all at once.

  ‘Go, if you want to use the washroom.’

  ‘Yeah, I’ll catch you downstairs. But I want to see your room.’

  ‘Yes. I’m going up to change into something better. All the dieting I’ve done better show results today,’ Sakshi said and turned to go upstairs.

  ‘Listen . . . Sakshi,’ Priya called out. She stopped and turned around.

  Priya stepped closer to the threshold of the stairs and asked, ‘When is she coming? Is she coming at all?’ Her voice was barely a whisper.

  Sakshi instinctively stepped down and, matching Priya’s tone, said, ‘You know, I think she’s not. Actually, I’m sure . . . at least not tonight. Karan and I haven’t discussed it since that day.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘I wanted to play it cool. Didn’t want him to know I cared because frankly I don’t, you know. But anyway, last night when we were going over the accommodation, Karan didn’t mention her. Some guests are staying at the guest house next door. She’s not on that list either. So I think she’s not coming.’

  ‘Okay . . . Good,’ Priya said, surprised by the disappointment she felt. I should be happy. Relieved. That damned woman is not coming. But Priya was disappointed. She wanted to see, in flesh and bone, the woman who had been her husband’s girlfriend so many years ago. She had never been this curious, even when she and Chirag were newly dating.

  Chirag looked around again. Priya was nowhere to be seen. He picked up another beer.

  After freshening up, Priya sat on the bed. The room felt cosy. Wooden walls and flooring. The lights were muted but not so dim that you would have to squint in order to read something. Priya lounged about on the bed for a few minutes, upset about Kanika’s absence.

  Ten minutes later, she was ready to rejoin the party downstairs. When she stepped into the living area, it seemed busier than when she had left it. Chirag spotted her immediately, duly noting that her lips were now a darker pink, her hair loose and that she had changed into a pair of heels. Priya saw Chirag looking at her. For a moment he was embarrassed. Then he smiled at her, an awkward, polite smile. She returned it as awkwardly and politely.

  She walked towards her friends at the bar counter, surprised to see Sakshi already there, changed into a different outfit. Wow that was fast! She was about to pay Sakshi a compliment on her blue dress—she was definitely looking slimmer than she did last week at lunch—when she heard Karan welcoming someone with much enthusiasm. Swiftly, Karan walked from one end of the hall to the other (where the entrance was) as all eyes turned to the woman entering the house. He embraced her in a bear hug with enough familiarity to send any wife into an instant fit of anger, but Priya noticed that Sakshi was unfazed. It turned out to be Sakshi’s cousin.

  At midnight there was an echo of ‘congratulations!’ across the room. Karan and Sakshi wished each other. ‘Aww’s and ‘aaah’s sounded at the sight. A two-tiered cake was brought in on a trolley. Sakshi touched her mother-in-law’s feet and then her father-in-law’s. The civilized group of people who had entered the bungalow a few hours ago had turned into a noisy mob. Voices had become louder, jokes crasser, words were slurring and language was slipping.

  Someone played the ‘Congratulations’ song on YouTube. Everyone joined in as if they were professional singers.

  Priya noticed they had forgotten to blow out the candles before cutting the cake. She pointed it out to Sakshi who then proceeded to put them out with childlike enthusiasm. Priya was staring at the hypnotic plumes of smoke rising from the candles when suddenly a woman emerged from the entrance. Without an introduction or even a second glance, Priya knew the woman was none other than Kanika.

  23

  The instant Priya sa
w Kanika, her eyes roved around the room and stopped on Chirag. He was feeding a piece of cake to Karan and Sakshi. Priya tried to catch Sakshi’s eye, sending urgent telepathic signals across the room. Sakshi took a few moments to look at her and then at Kanika.

  Priya walked up to Chirag. She cut a thin sliver of cake and offered to feed him. He found the gesture odd.

  ‘I just had some,’ he said, pushing Priya’s hand away.

  It didn’t matter what he said. She shoved the slice into his mouth anyway. He ate it. He smiled.

  Kanika had already walked up to Karan. From across the hall, it looked like two old friends were chatting warmly. Chirag still hadn’t noticed her arrival. Priya stood with him and Akhil but had no idea what they were talking about. She noticed what Kanika was wearing—a long, printed black dress. A deep pink scarf was knotted around her neck. Her hair was voluminous and long. She had a very offbeat look about her. Against her will, Priya found Chirag’s ex-girlfriend attractive. She wanted a closer look at her. She saw Kanika walking in her direction and her heart started thumping furiously. Chirag’s back was turned to what his wife was witnessing and he continued talking to Akhil, blissfully unaware of the deep shit he was in.

  Priya was stunned when she saw Kanika go over to Sakshi and give her a friendly hug, as if they were long-lost friends. She was nervous about the moment Chirag would meet her. Coming here was a mistake. Her throat felt dry and prickly. She needed to have some water. She needed to get out of there. Suddenly she couldn’t bear the thought of watching them meet, knowing well that this was what Chirag had wanted all along.

  Akhil went to the bar to get more drinks, leaving Priya alone with Chirag. He noticed she was distracted, deep in thought. Light-headed from the beer, he took a step towards her, but she took a step back, wounding his ego. He was about to say something when Akhil returned with shots.

 

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