There's Something About You

by Yashodhara Lal

  ‘Nope.’ Trish ignored the over-familiar smack on the back which she wouldn’t usually have allowed anyone. She gulped down a glass of water in one swallow and looked up at him.

  He was gazing at her with an incredulous smile. ‘But you kept up with every song! These other girls have been part of this batch for three months and you’re getting most of the steps right on the first day! That’s awesome.’

  ‘Yeah?’ Trish couldn’t help but smile too. ‘So you think I’ll be able to do this?’

  ‘You’re already doing it! You’ve got the moves, girl!’ He grinned at her and then added sincerely, ‘Zumba’s great. You’ll have lots of fun.’

  ‘And it really does get you fit?’ She couldn’t help but run an envious eye over his toned body.

  ‘Totally, man. I was a gym instructor, but I love dancing and this is a fabulous total body workout. Plus, there are specific exercises we build in for specific body parts. You can burn up to a thousand calories a session!’

  ‘Wow. Er, how many calories in one besan laddoo?’

  Raj threw his head back and laughed loudly, even though Trish had meant her question quite seriously. The other women, already back in their positions, looked over to see what was so funny, and Raj gave Trish another over-familiar thwack on the back before trotting off to his place in the front and calling back over his shoulder, ‘Welcome to class, Trish!’

  Trish was in an unusually good mood by the time she got home. That one hour of practically nonstop dancing had totally taken the wind out of her, but paradoxically, she felt full of energy. A certain lightness was in her step and she even heard herself humming as she turned the key in the door and let herself in.

  Ma’s sour face peered out of the kitchen to look at her as she walked down the hallway. ‘Hello, Ma,’ Trish said cheerfully, ‘How’s B—I mean you?’

  ‘What’s that?’ said Ma sharply, cocking her head to the side.

  ‘How’s you?’ Trish said breezily. ‘It’s the new lingo. Everyone says “how’s you” nowadays.’

  ‘Why are you in such a good mood?’ Ma grumbled, coming out of the kitchen. ‘Where have you been, anyway?’

  Something stopped Trish from answering. There had been too many instances of a cutting remark from her mother taking the wind out of her sails. Today had been fun, and she felt that it could be the beginning of something new. She didn’t want to risk spoiling it, so she just breezed past her mother, saying ‘Just out and about. You know.’

  ‘I do not know,’ her mother said, her hands on her hips. ‘You don’t tell me anything these days. You keep working on something on your computer and you say you’ve got some new assignment for the paper, but I don’t see your name on any articles and you haven’t even told me which supplement you’re writing for.’

  Trish started humming again as she headed for her room. She was thankful she had carried a set of clothes and showered at the gym. She was determined not to rise to Ma’s bait at all today.

  And then Ma gasped with a shock of sudden realization. ‘You’re doing drugs!’

  Trish whirled around. ‘Huh?’

  ‘It must be drugs. You’ve been cagey about everything for so many days. And now you come home all happy.’ She stepped close to Trish and sniffed suspiciously, making Trish glad once more for the shower. ‘I can’t smell any alcohol, so it must be drugs.’

  ‘Wow. Great deduction, Ma.’ Trish resorted to her usual defence mechanism of sarcasm. ‘Can you tell how many ounces of coke I’ve snorted?’

  ‘I’m not talking about Coke or Pepsi. I’m talking about drugs.’

  Trish threw up her hands in defeat. The doorbell rang. Mother and daughter continued to stare at each other malevolently. Trish broke her gaze and went over to the door, sputtering with incredulity. ‘Drugs! Never heard anything

  so crazy.’

  She opened the door. It was Akanksha standing there, with Lisa and an elderly gentleman behind her. ‘Trish! Meet my father. Dad, this is the wonderful girl I was telling you about. One of my best friends.’

  ‘Pleased to meet you, Trish,’ said the tall white-haired gentleman with a gentle smile.

  ‘Oh. Hello, Uncle.’ Trish made an effort to soften her face. Akanksha’s father looked like a very nice man.

  She realized it would probably be appropriate to touch his feet and she began to bend over to do so, but he laughed and quickly pulled her up by the shoulders and put a friendly arm around her, saying, ‘Arrey, none of that feet-touching business, dear. In our family, women are treated like goddesses, they don’t touch anyone’s feet.’

  Trish straightened up and grinned at him a little shyly, liking him already. He was dressed in an elegant grey kurta and somehow reminded her a lot of her own father when he was just a little younger and a lot healthier. But Ba had rarely put an arm around her like that, even when she was a kid. Trish’s had never been a physically affectionate family, and it was only now that he was so ill that he seemed to need and accept comforting little gestures from Trish such as a touch on the hand to calm him down. It was too little too late. Trish was surprised now to feel a little pang as she saw the ease and comfort with which Lisa clutched at her grandfather’s arm, all but swinging from it now, full of glee.

  ‘Trish-masi, my nanu’s going to buy me a guitar today!’ Lisa was dancing about, shifting from one foot to the other, barely able to contain her excitement.

  Trish laughed and chucked Lisa lightly under the chin, saying, ‘That’s great, Lisa.’

  ‘Yes, but calm down, will you, Leez?’ Akanksha patted her daughter on the head. She added to Trish, ‘Sweetie, we were just on our way out for that guitar, but I thought we’d take a chance here for a second. I really wanted you to meet Dad.’

  ‘Won’t you come in for a cup of tea, Uncle?’ Trish said politely.

  ‘Would you please stop calling me Uncle?’ He laughed. ‘Goodness. You make me feel so old.’

  ‘Yeah, Nanu said I don’t have to call him Nanu and that I can call him by his name.’ Lisa was dancing about in excitement again.

  ‘Which you’re not going to, young lady.’ Akanksha rolled her eyes and turned to Trish. ‘As you can see, Lisa’s only a little overexcited about that guitar, so we’ll stop by another time. Dad’s here for the next few weeks anyway.’

  ‘Okay.’ Trish smiled. ‘Hey, Akku, I went to the Celebrity Fitness Gym today for the Zumba class, and they didn’t seem to have your name listed. When did—’

  ‘Oh you went?’ Akanksha cried. ‘We must catch up on that, okay? Right now, got to go. Lisa needs that guitar.’

  But Lisa was looking up at Trish wide-eyed. ‘You went for Zumba, Trish-masi? And on the same day that I’m getting my guitar?’

  Trish nodded and grinned at the little girl. ‘Yes, and it was fun!’

  ‘Let’s go, let’s go!’ Akanksha took hold of Lisa by the shoulder and her father by the arm and steered them both away. ‘Bye now, darling, we’ll see you again soon!’

  She bustled her family off quickly, leaving Trish wondering, not for the first time, why her only actual friend was such

  a weirdo.

  14

  A Walk

  ‘A blog?’ Trish repeated.

  ‘Yes, darling!’ Nivedita’s voice floated over the phone gleefully. ‘Amy’s going to go online! Yayyy!’

  Trish rolled her eyes. She’d always known it would only be a matter of time. DNX Publications didn’t have that stupid Internet division for nothing. ‘Digital is the Future’ had been their rather unoriginal mantra for the last three years. ‘And you’ll put up the same material that appears in print, right?’

  ‘Absotively positutely, hon.’ Nivedita sang. ‘But also, so much more! We’re thinking we’ll be able to accommodate many more letters, real time responses, comments. We’ll cross-post to our Facebook page, set up live chats and even give you a Twitter handle!’

  ‘Hang on,’ Trish protested. ‘I’m not going to be able to put in that much time. I have to fi
gure out something else to do with my life apart from being Anonymous Amy.’

  ‘Oh, but you’re becoming a huge celebrity, Tish-tish. Do you know the monthly survey results have come and yours is now the most read column, even more than Deepika’s style column!’

  ‘Wow,’ Trish said, adding caustically, ‘So I write better than a Bollywood celebrity, huh?’

  ‘Oh, it’s not that,’ Nivedita said, oblivious as usual to the sarcasm. ‘I think the whole aura, the whole mystery that we’ve built up about the Amy persona has worked. Everyone wants to know who it is.’ She sounded gleeful. ‘We’re even getting enquiries from other publications, snoops claiming to want to interview you as part of a story on anonymous columns, but we know what they’re up to, just trying to blow it for us by revealing you and destroying the secret. Well, hah! We’re not letting that happen.’

  ‘So what are you telling them?’ Trish was interested in spite of herself. ‘The reporters, I mean.’

  ‘Generally, false trails.’

  Something about Nivedita’s vague answer made Trish narrow her eyes in suspicion at her phone. ‘False trails such as?’

  With some hesitation, Nivedita continued, ‘Well, we’ve let it slip that perhaps the chief editor herself ghostwrites the column; but then, we’ve also thrown in that maybe it’s actually a gay Bollywood celebrity.’

  ‘Ah,’ Trish said quietly. So Zee, the pompous big E, was quietly basking in the glory of the column. No wonder there had been fewer complaints from that quarter over the last few days. Well, she could continue to take all the credit she wanted. It meant nothing to Trish. She hated attention anyway. This was all stupid. Which was why she had to focus on getting herself a real job, and that brought her back to the point. ‘So anyway.’ She cleared her throat. ‘Good luck getting a team to manage the digital engagement part of it.’

  ‘Hey, hang on,’ Nivedita protested. ‘You know it’s going to be a piece of cake for you. You handled the whole content business earlier, and you know how the whole blogging and social media thing works.’

  ‘Nivedita.’ Trish sighed. ‘I never said I can’t do it. It’s just that I won’t do it.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘It’s my decision,’ Trish snapped. ‘It’s not part of the contract; I never signed on to let this take over my whole life. I’m trying to figure out what I’m going to do next, and this is just a stop-gap arrangement for me. And you’re right, I do know what the digital content part of it involves, and it is a lot of work.’

  ‘We’re offering double for the digital part,’ Nivedita said in the quiet, smug tone of someone laying down their trump card.

  ‘Stop throwing money at me each time I say I don’t want to do something,’ Trish snarled.

  ‘Oh, but darling! I’m not throwing money at you!’ Nivedita managed to sound genuinely hurt. ‘I’m just giving you the facts. I mean, come on, Tish-tish, haven’t you ever heard of making hay while the sun shines? You of all people should be milking this for all it’s worth! Anyway, Zee said in case you have doubts about taking this on, she would be happy to meet with you to discuss it.’

  ‘Wow. As tempting as that sounds,’ Trish’s voice dripped with sarcasm. ‘I think you can tell Zee that I’ll make my own decision on this and get back to you guys in a few days. Okay?’

  ‘Okay, sure. Take your time. Will you let me know tomorrow?’

  ‘I said a few days, why don’t you ever listen? I’ve got to go now.’ The doorbell was ringing and Trish was totally fed up of the conversation.

  ‘But Zee said …’

  ‘Bye.’ Trish hung up on her. This was the way most of their conversations seemed to end. Sometimes she felt sorry for Nivedita. She was clearly just the messenger and got shot a lot of times. But then, she always seemed to bounce back easily and the next time it was all ‘Guess what, darling?’ all over again. Trish decided she might as well save her sympathy for someone who deserved it.

  She went over to the door, but her mother had beaten her to it. Ma turned around and looked at Trish wonderingly. ‘Trish. There’s a boy, I mean, a gentleman named Sahil who’s come to see you.’ She stepped aside to reveal a tall bespectacled man who stood outside the door, smiling politely, looking boyish in the blue jeans and brown t-shirt just a shade darker than his hair and eyes.

  ‘Oh.’ Trish’s heart skipped a beat and she told herself it was just the shock. She didn’t know how to react. Of course Sahil knew where she lived. She had let her apartment name slip that time they had met at Costa. It wouldn’t have been difficult for him to get her flat number from the stupid, easily-charmed-or-bribed guards downstairs. But still, to land up unannounced like this? What was that in his hands? A bunch of flowers? She hated flowers. And, oh god, she was dressed in her Winnie-the-Pooh pyjamas and an old pink t-shirt with yellow flowers on the front. Okay, she hated real flowers, not flower designs. She hadn’t been expecting to see anyone from the outside world today, and here he was, looking so good, in his impeccably pressed clothes. Who pressed their jeans, for god’s sake? This guy always managed to make her feel stupid. Why the hell was he here?

  Ma was looking back and forth at the two of them, a curious smile on her thin face. Uncomfortable under her mother’s scrutiny, Trish finally said, ‘Well, come on in, Sahil.’

  Sahil smiled, not without a hint of relief, and walked into the flat, past her mother, who looked on with unabashed wonder and joy. Easy, old lady, Trish thought to herself and once Sahil passed her to go into the drawing room, she whipped around to give her mother a warning glare. Ma tried to look innocent. Trish frowned at her and then followed Sahil inside.

  ‘So, er, how come you’re … here?’ She knew it wasn’t the most hospitable thing to say, but she was embarrassed by his presence and couldn’t help herself.

  In contrast, Sahil seemed totally at ease now. He was standing with his back to her, staring out of her window. He let out a low whistle. ‘Wow. I don’t believe it. What a fantastic view you’ve got!’ He turned around and looked at Trish and smiled. ‘I actually … just felt like seeing you, that’s all. I hope this is okay. You kind of mentioned catching up another time the last time we met, so …’ For the first time, he seemed to notice her attire. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude. I guess it was rude to drop in without calling.’

  ‘And why didn’t you call first?’ Trish had her arms crossed over her chest, hoping this way she was blocking his view of the yellow flowers.

  ‘I guess I knew you’d say no, huh?’ Sahil grinned at her winningly.

  ‘Wow. You must be psychic or something.’ Trish was sorry as soon as the words came out. She hadn’t meant to make that wide grin of his flicker.

  He seemed a little subdued now, but he took a step towards her and held out the flowers. ‘For you.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Trish said, feeling ashamed and, therefore, accepting the flowers. She was beginning to blush. To hide it, she turned away and began to look for a vase to put them in. They were lilies, pink and white, and she had to admit they were kind of pretty and had a nice scent.

  ‘So you’re Shah Rukh’s neighbours, no, aunty?’ Trish snapped her head around to look at him. Oh, good. He wasn’t talking to her. He was addressing Ma, who was hovering at the doorway.

  Maybe Sahil was actually psychic, Trish thought dryly to herself. He certainly seemed to have an intuition about the right buttons to push. Ma lit up at this observation and said, ‘Well, yes, we are! I’ve so often hoped that one day he’ll just step out of Mannat to buy eggs or something from the kirana shop across the road, and maybe I’ll be able to ask him for his autograph or tell him that he was just so good in Veer-Zaara, it’s my favourite movie of his. But we’ve never seen him,’ she finished, slightly deflated.

  ‘Yet,’ Sahil reminded her gently, and Ma brightened up at this.

  ‘Shall I make pakoras?’ she said with more enthusiasm than Trish had seen from her in a long time. ‘It’ll be very nice with the chai. Such nice weather outs
ide.’

  ‘Yes, Ma, actually,’ Trish cut in quickly. ‘The weather is so nice that we were just about to go for a walk.’ She didn’t know where the words came from because a walk with Sahil was the last thing she had planned, but it was sure to be a hell of a lot less awkward than sitting inside this small house, with a simpering Ma hovering around, constantly offering to ply them with chai and pakoras. She turned to Sahil and said firmly, ‘Right, Sahil? Walk by the sea?’

  Sahil looked mildly surprised but quickly recovered and nodded. ‘Exactly. A walk by the sea. Lovely weather.’

  Ma looked a little disappointed at being deprived of Sahil’s company so quickly. Sahil smiled at her so charmingly that Trish was afraid that he was going to invite Ma along on the walk. But he didn’t, and Ma simply smiled back. Trish could almost see the wheels turning in Ma’s head. Ma was thinking that it would be nice to let the two of them spend some time alone. Wonderful.

  Trish muttered something about changing into her walking shoes and hurried out of the living room, pushing past Ma. She would also have to find something without that damned Winnie the Pooh on it. She wasn’t done with her work for today and Sahil was throwing her off her schedule. She would have to get rid of him quickly.

  She rifled through her cupboard, trying to ignore the question of why she was feeling so damned pleased.

  It was a beautiful evening. June in Mumbai was usually hot and sticky, but there was a cool breeze and it blew the occasional light spray from the water on to them. Maybe the rains would come early this year, Trish wondered idly. It was nice to be out although she was still feeling very conscious having Sahil by her side. Usually only couples walked in pairs like this on romantic Bandstand, often holding hands as a firm show of their everlasting commitment to each other. He had better not try anything of that sort with her, she thought, even though her fingers already seemed to be tingling at the very prospect.