Now That You're Rich: Let's fall in Love!

by Datta, Durjoy

  ‘That can have many connotations, actually?’

  ‘Dirty mind,’ she said and rolled her eyes.

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Whatever.’

  She turned the key, and turned it way too far and the car grumbled. Rishab cringed but still managed a smile.

  ‘I am sorry,’ she grinned ruefully. ‘I told you I can’t drive this.’

  ‘You can drive it, it’s no big deal.’

  ‘Oh yes, why not! I am used to driving gleaming new Porsches with someone like you sitting next to me,’ she mocked.

  ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘Nothing. Just shut up,’ she said. Rishab smiled. ‘And anyway, if I bang this thing into anything, you know I can’t afford even a headlight. So it’ll be your loss.’

  ‘It’s not really my loss, it would be ideally my dad’s loss, and I really don’t care,’ he said, and Shruti rolled her eyes, pushed the accelerator and tried to negotiate the car out of the parking and it was a horrendous attempt. But after putting Rishab through many moments when he wanted to shout and cringe and jump out of the car and lay prostate in front of it so that she could run him over instead, she did better, changing gears on time and driving smoothly. A feather touch and the car was already doing eighty.

  ‘Take a left from there,’ he pointed.

  ‘Rishab, you want to watch it for sure?’ she asked.

  ‘You chose the movie. Why? You don’t want to see it?’

  ‘No. I mean, I can drive this for three hours. You go and watch the movie,’ she laughed.

  ‘You seriously want to drive this for three hours? For one, I absolutely hate driving!’

  ‘I mean, I can. It is probably the first time, and the last, I am going to sit in a car like this. And obviously, you hate driving! You’re a rich spoilt kid, owner of club and fancy cars and toys. This must be like something you’re bored of,’ she mocked and laughed.

  ‘Don’t patronize me! And I would love it if you can keep driving. I always dreamed of a date, where my girl would drive!’

  ‘Your girl?’ she said with scorn. It is another matter that her brain erased everything else to accommodate the memory of these two words and several copies of them, and then made copies of the copies.

  ‘Umm … I mean, the girl with me.’ For the first time, he fumbled with words, and he blushed.

  ‘Date?’

  ‘Yes, that is true. It is a date, isn’t it?’ he asked.

  ‘Okay, I will give that one to you. One question though?’

  ‘Shoot,’ he said and pointed to a direction that led to a highway. She was cruising between ninety kilometres to a hundred kilometres an hour now.

  ‘How many my girls have there been like me? The ones you talk sweetly to and sweep off their feet with your charming smile, your big car, and by dropping in casually, mid-conversation, that you own the biggest club in India.’

  ‘You wouldn’t want to know,’ he smirked.

  ‘Okay.’ She clenched the steering wheel in anger.

  ‘But you are the first one to drive my car!’

  ‘Thanks for the privilege,’ she said wryly.

  ‘You are welcome. But tell me? Are you jealous? Why does it look like you are jealous? You’re jealous, right?’

  ‘Why would I be? Why would I care if this is what you do with a zillion other girls? I am sure you have a lot of girls around you. Why should I care?’

  ‘Maybe because you have started liking me?’ he suggested gently, his eyes twinkling with boyish mischief.

  She wanted to thrust her head out from the sun roof and shout out to the world that she was on a date with most gorgeous boy ever, but she said, ‘I don’t like you a bit.’

  ‘Then why are you with me right now?’ he smiled again.

  ‘First, I am jobless. Second, I have nothing to do. And third, I am hoping to use you to get myself a job somewhere! Maybe I can be a bartender or something.’

  ‘How mean, Shruti.’

  ‘That is how I am,’ she said and shrugged her shoulders. ‘I am just using you.’

  ‘I like you the way you are.’

  ‘Are you flirting with me?’

  ‘Actually that depends on whether it’s working. Is it?’ he asked.

  ‘No, it’s not, Rishab.’

  ‘Then, I am not flirting with you at ALL,’ he said and shook his head from side to side.

  ‘You know what, I have heard these dialogues from somewhere,’ she said. ‘Oh yes, it’s from Get Smart. You have seen the movie, right?’

  ‘I watch every movie that is released, be it from Bollywood or Hollywood. In fact, I even watch a lot of south Indian movies. Aren’t they hilarious?’

  ‘Why did you miss New York then? We could have watched the movie,’ she said.

  ‘I already saw the movie a few days back when John Abraham and the director of the movie held a special screening for a few of their friends, and I was invited,’ he said, looked at her and smiled.

  ‘You’re such a show off,’ she said and drove on. He laughed.

  27

  It was tougher than he had anticipated. Abhijeet had gloves on, taken from Shruti’s haircolour box, and two handkerchiefs tied around his mouth and nose. He wished he could have one on his eyes too.

  He nearly puked twice while scraping off the dried portions of the vomit, and he started hating Shruti and alcohol with every passing moment. Just as he was done pouring water over the floor for the umpteenth time that morning, there was a knock on the door.

  He opened the door, thinking it would be Garima and he could thrust his smelly hands out and shout from beneath his handkerchiefs, ‘Smell this!’ Riya dodged his outstretched hands and that’s when he saw it was not Garima.

  ‘Hi,’ he said.

  ‘What?’ she asked.

  ‘Hi, Riya,’ he said again, before he realized that his voice was getting muffled beneath the handkerchiefs on his mouth and he took them off.

  ‘Hi, Abhijeet.’

  ‘Hi. Long time. Sit, sit. I am sorry for the mess. Actually it isn’t mine. I am just cleaning it up because Saurav and Garima are out and I have to do it.’

  ‘Do you need help?’

  ‘I can sure do with some,’ he said and she gave him the same beamer that she used to give him during their college days.

  ‘You look cool with those handkerchiefs on your face. Can I get one too? The colour suits your eyes, and hey, I had that handkerchief, too, the Winnie the Pooh one, really cute and guess what, they were on sale! Cool, huh?’

  ‘That is indeed nice. There.’ He passed one to her.

  She put on the handkerchief and said, ‘Now we are ready.’ She took a wiper in hand. ‘Let’s do some cleaning!’ she smiled, showing all thirty-two of her teeth. Her enthusiasm regarding the littlest of things was exactly as it was when he knew her.

  Together, they took well over half an hour to make that place shine as it had never before. Then they dusted every surface to a gleam!

  ‘Here. Come, let’s take a picture,’ Riya declared, once they were done. She put her cell phone on self-timer and placed it on the television. They both stood side by side with handkerchiefs on their heads and mouths and wipers in hand. ‘Not like this. No!’ Riya shouted, as soon as the first picture got clicked.

  She set the camera on the self-timer again and positioned Abhijeet and herself in a pose she thought would look good. Then came a million different poses and a zillion more pictures.

  They were exhausted from running to and fro from the camera and posing in the mere ten seconds that they had. Riya was never satisfied with one take. She took five of each at least, much to Abhijeet’s frustration. They sat down on the bed that they had now rolled out and spread a nice blue bed sheet on.

  They exchanged nothing for the next two minutes, just caught hold of their breath and smiled at whatever had just happened in last one hour. The other two had not yet returned.

  ‘Riya. I am sorry. I know I said a lot of things I shouldn’t have. I
am really really sorry about that,’ he said.

  ‘So, finally,’ she said and rubbed her palms together. Then, she smiled wickedly, ‘The stubborn creature realizes his mistake!’

  ‘That is rude.’

  ‘Yes, I know. I am sorry. I should have understood you back then. But seriously, I really liked you and loved you as a friend. You were the only perfect part of my life back then. And once you went, everything fell apart. The movies, the dance, everything became history. I turned into you. Books, professors, assignments and I don’t know why but I so wanted you to be around during those days. But …’ She now had tears in her eyes. ‘And yes, you were right. He left me, no prizes for guessing that,’ she said and smiled a little.

  ‘Good for you.’

  ‘And see, I am almost where you are! You should be proud of yourself. It is probably because of you that I am here, at Silverman Finance,’ she said. Her tone alternated between a sad and a sprightly one.

  Her eyes had started to get wet when Abhijeet got up and took her in his arms and then she started crying a little more, before crying a lot more. They stood there for quite some time, before she broke out of his embrace and looked at him with her cutest smile and tears in her eyes and said, ‘You were my best friend, you are my best friend, and you will always be! Whether you like it or not.’ She broke out of his hug completely and said, ‘I will show you something.’

  ‘What it is?’ he asked.

  ‘Just wait,’ she said and started looking around for her handbag. She rummaged through it, took something out and walked up to Abhijeet. ‘Something I had kept for posterity, for this day and the days that we will celebrate our friendship,’ she said and kept three stapled clutches of pages on the table and said, ‘Assignments … that is law … and …’ she said.

  ‘… macro,’ he said.

  ‘And economics.’

  They hugged. They looked each other in the eye and Abhijeet said, ‘Missed you.’

  ‘Missed you, too.’

  ‘I love you so much.’

  ‘I love you, too,’ she said and they came close and they were almost about to kiss, their lips briefly touching, before they realized that they shouldn’t and they parted.

  ‘I am sorry. I didn’t mean to do that,’ he said.

  ‘I am sorry, too, though I wouldn’t mind kissing you some day,’ she said and smiled playfully.

  ‘Neither would I,’ he said.

  They both laughed and hugged, and they both knew they had wanted to kiss each other once, just to see how it felt like.

  28

  ‘You know John Abraham? You do? Or you just knew the director of the movie? You don’t know him, do you?’

  ‘Yes. Why? You like him?’

  ‘Umm, not really, I am more a Shahrukh Khan fan. But I think you are too rich to understand that meeting superstars is a big thing for people like us. I have friends who show off their pictures with Shahrukh and Aamir when they were three years old,’ she mocked.

  ‘Okay, okay!’

  ‘Whatever,’ she said.

  ‘See that is why I hate being who I am.’

  ‘Now what did I say that made you say that?’ she asked.

  ‘I say things or do things that are very natural and everyday to me and people think I am arrogant. I have not lived your kind of life. They think I don’t know what hardship is in life and discredit me for everything I do. Maybe I have got everything in life but there is also a possibility that I might have earned it, too.’

  ‘Elaborate.’

  ‘I could be as good as you are. If I were in your place, I might have got where you are. Getting into Silverman Finance is a big deal and I know that. But I might have been that good and maybe I am. But just because I have every comfort in the world and was born with a silver spoon in my mouth, that doesn’t give the people the right to wrest away credit for everything I do. They will have just one thing to say. Dad’s money making the way for the son. And believe me, hearing that is way worse than not getting clicked with superstars,’ he said and looked away.

  ‘Yes. That is true. But I wonder sometimes why you people never go to Indian colleges. You still choose the easy path. I have a friend who is quite rich … may not be as rich as you are, but he is an IITian. Why not you?’

  ‘Saurav?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said.

  She was impressed that he remembered it from her previous night’s blabbering.

  ‘See, Shruti. When you have pots of Dad’s money lying around, you wouldn’t like to be a speck in the engineering world. And when you see that kind of money, the only thing that gets drilled into your mind by your family is to concetrate on how to make more out of it. This guy you are talking about, what do his parents do?’

  ‘Engineer and doctor.’

  ‘See my point? It is how you are bred,’ he continued with authority dripping from his voice. ‘When I was young, I dropped out of business school for this project and I have been toiling hard. Yes, I don’t have to catch buses and autos, but I am working. And hard enough. I know this nightclub thing might seem like too frivolous a venture to start your business with. Something like, oh, it’s like a rich man’s wife doing an interior designers’ course. But let me tell you, it is not easy. My point is—I am rich and that is not my fault. It has been two years and this place will break even in four and that counts as a success. For me, at least. People may attribute it to my dad, but I will fiercely defend it as mine,’ he said and looked ahead.

  ‘Point taken,’ she said, and wondered how old he might be. That is one part of the interview she couldn’t remember: how old was the heir to the group of Manchanda Industries? She wondered why Rishab had not yet mentioned his father’s huge business empire and that he was the successor to the second richest man in India. She didn’t want to mention it either. Ignorance is bliss, and she wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize the best date ever.

  They drove on the highway for a little while, after which she got a little bored and asked, ‘What next? I am getting a little bored. I can see why you hate driving. It does get a little monotonous after a bit.’

  ‘Oh, are you bored? Do you want to feel a rush?’

  ‘Umm … yes …’ she said sceptically. ‘What do you have in mind?’

  ‘Have you raced an aircraft?’ he asked and a boyish smile came back on his face.

  ‘What? Do I look like I might have done it? What makes you think I might have done it?’

  ‘The question is whether you want to do it?’

  ‘Are you drunk? Are you kidding me? Are you nuts?’

  ‘No, no, and yes!’ he said gleefully and she was already sold.

  ‘Okay. You do it as I am none of the above. I will watch.’

  ‘You’re coming with me,’ he said.

  ‘Are you serious?’ she asked now. She had thought he was kidding.

  ‘Hell, yeah,’ he said like a little boy.

  They stopped, switched seats and drove onto the highway. He nodded at a person who was at what looked like a runway. The guy let them through the guarded barricade. They stopped there for a while.

  ‘Look,’ he pointed to a small jet approaching the runway in his rearview mirror.

  ‘Oh shit. You are really gonna race that?’ she asked and clasped her palms to her face.

  ‘Seems like … Yes!’

  ‘Don’t do it.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I am a little scared.’

  ‘Good.’ He pushed on the gas and the car was surrounded by white smoke and burnt rubber.

  The jet was a kilometre away, and then it shattered the glass of the shiny blue Porsche as it passed them by, and made the car seem like a small toy. Rishab clenched the wheel and let the brakes go.

  First second. 20 km/hr.

  Second. 69 km/hr.

  Third. 92 km/hr.

  They both hit the back of their seats. Any faster and they would have broken their necks. The car was hurtling to the infinite now. The road was getting blurred. The car had
started shaking and wobbling and they could smell burnt rubber. They were surrounded by car smoke.

  Fourth second. 145 km/hr.

  The car was zooming now. A few more seconds and the beast reached 185 km when they left the jet behind, and the car wobbled like crazy. Undeterred, Rishab pushed on the gas further.

  He was going at 210.

  One rock and the car would have smashed to pieces.

  ‘Stop it! Oh shit!’ Shruti wanted to shout out but her voice failed. She closed her eyes and grabbed onto the sides of the seat. Her stomach was churning and she felt like she would puke, and had it been anyone other than Rishab, she would have.

  The car had started to vibrate wildly, seeming it would topple over. They had both been pushed back to the seat and they could feel the air fighting them. The sights had gone. They could see just two colours—blue of the sky and a blurred brown road ahead.

  The jet was slowing down and was about to land. He gave the car its last thrust and pushed on the pedal. It touched 250 km/hr and the jet touched down. They were flying. She felt weightless.

  He won!

  Rishab waved at the pilot and the pilot gave him a thumbs-up.

  They just came to a stop and he took the last bit out of the tyres by doing a 360-degree turn a few yards in front of the jet. Shruti’s head spun.

  ‘It is over,’ he whispered in her ear. She opened her eyes, still in a daze. She rushed out of the car and slammed the door. She bent down with her palms against the knees, panting.

  Rishab came out and said, ‘I am sorry, but I couldn’t have stopped midway. And by the way, I won.’ He thought she would puke, too. There had been guys who had puked.

  ‘Are you okay?’ he asked and bent down.

  She looked at him, still bent, ‘Can we do it again?’

  ‘But you closed your eyes.’

  ‘Obviously, I closed my eyes! This was my first time! But now I regret it. It was so good,’ she said and held him by his arm.

  ‘I know.’

  They kept standing there looking back at the runway and the barren lands they had whizzed past. It was quite a distance and took just a few seconds.

  ‘I think I now have to thank you for a lot of things,’ she said. ‘I will treat you some day if you allow me to.’