‘Treat me today,’ he said, almost in a reflex.
‘Today? I think you should rest. We should really be going home now. It is the 31st today and a big day for your club. We should be going now.’
‘Oh! Big businesswoman, you are! Shut up and stop telling me what I have to do! I am sure I will manage everything right.’
‘So, where are we going?’ she asked, embarrassed. ‘This time you can choose and I will drive and you point out where you want to eat.’
‘I have kind of decided. It is Palates of the World. I really like that restaurant and it’s been days that I have eaten there and I would like it if we can go there,’ he said.
‘Perfect. Palates of the World it is. Can I drive?’
‘Yes. You can. But there is a slight problem.’
‘What?’
‘I don’t think you have a licence to get us there,’ he said, dejected.
‘Oh, yes I do!’
‘No, you don’t, Shruti. The restaurant is in Delhi.’
‘What?’
‘And we are flying,’ he said, turned her around and pointed to the jet standing there.
She fainted.
29
‘Did we interrupt?’ Saurav came in balancing a few pizza boxes and a few bottles of coke. Abhijeet was hugging Riya when he came in. Along with him came Garima and both of them smiled seeing them together. A few minutes earlier and they would have caught Abhijeet and Riya almost kissing!
All of them hugged in pairs, all the six possibilities in varying degrees of tears in their eyes.
‘I have heard a lot about you,’ Garima said to Riya.
‘I hope it was more good than bad,’ Riya chuckled. ‘And you have the most beautiful eyes ever EVER EVER. And I just love those earrings you wore that day! Where did you get them from? By the way, we cleaned up the house if you haven’t noticed!’
Garima and Saurav looked around and they were suitably impressed. They sat down, opened two pizza boxes, a bottle of Coke, and started talking.
Riya and Abhijeet narrated their story to Saurav and Garima, and Garima told Riya about Shruti and how they had messed up her life. That reminded Garima to call Shruti again, whose phone was now switched on, but the call was disconnected. ‘Text her,’ Saurav said and she did, and Shruti replied that she wouldn’t be back home before night or later. A little later, her phone was out of reach.
It was already evening when the four of them started working on the balloons and the charts, one of which said ‘Happy New Year’ and the other said ‘We Are Sorry’. The charts were half the size of each wall and were in blazing red on a white background and they emptied tubes after tubes of sparkles all over the chart. Satisfied with what they had done, they hauled up the charts onto the walls and nailed them in. They went on to plaster the other walls with frills, Christmas balls and stars, till the whole room was a glittering mess, and they knew they had gone a little overboard with everything. The worst part was blowing the balloons though, and without a pump, it took the four of them two hours to blow up every balloon—their jaws hurt once they finished.
Saurav ordered two four-pound cakes and two more pizzas, two crates of beer, three vodka bottles and ten bottles of Sprite for the party they were not sure they would have. They warmed up the left-over pizzas from the morning, downed them with a few bottles of Coke and felt tired and sleepy.
It was ten at night when the four of them finally woke up, ten minutes after the incessant ringing of the bell by the delivery guys. They took the delivery of the cakes and sat in a circle. They rubbed their eyes and yawned, none of them in any mood to party that night; if anything, they wanted to go to sleep again. Shruti was still untraceable; Garima called on her number incessantly and each of her calls were disconnected.
‘I have no idea what she is upto! Is he still with Rahul?’ Garima asked. ‘Will you please check next door with Rahul’s roommate?’
Saurav nodded and went next door to check with Rahul’s roommate, but the flat was locked.
‘What if something happened to her?’ Garima asked, fearing the worst. ‘I should text her.’
‘Let us know if you’re fine,’ she texted Shruti, and the reply came, ‘I’m fine. The three of you don’t need to worry about me. I am doing great without you. Shruti.’ Garima instantly broke down in tears. Seeing that, Abhijeet, angry and disappointed, started calling Shruti from his number, and the phone rang incessantly at first and then went out of reach.
The house was still decorated as such, only that the posters had moved down from one of the corners and nobody was interested enough to set them right. They had slept well and they wanted to sleep more.
Saurav pulled out another mattress from the bedroom and a couple of quilts, turned up the air-conditioner and the four of them tucked themselves inside the quilts. It was lovely feeling, as the couples hugged and lay there exchanging sweet nothings and telling each other how lucky they were to have each other in their lives. They had now realized how futile it was to have a great party, and that all successful New Year’s plans are the ones that are spent watching Bollywood stars dancing and receiving awards, tucked in quilts with the people you care about.
At the back of their minds, they were thinking of Shruti, who was somewhere out there with somebody they didn’t know. They were terribly worried about her. More than that, they were slightly jealous because she was doing fine and she didn’t need them to be near for even the New Year. They wanted her back. They wanted things to be as they were. They wanted their group to be complete again.
30
Rishab helped Shruti onto the stairs of the jet, where a man in a butler’s uniform and two men in pilot’s uniforms were waiting to greet them.
‘Good morning, Shruti,’ the pilots echoed.
‘Good morning ma’am,’ the butler said, as he handed out towels to both of them. Rishab led her to the main sitting area, and told her that he could impress her by flying the aircraft himself but then he wouldn’t be able to concentrate on her, and she blushed on hearing that.
‘How do they know my name?’
‘Technology has come a long way, sweetheart,’ he whispered. ‘I mean I texted them.’ He chuckled.
They sat down in two huge, black Lazy Boy type chairs and the butler/waiter served them water, after which Rishab asked him to leave them alone for a while.
‘One question, Rishab. Just one question.’
‘Shoot.’
‘Just exactly how much money does your dad have?’ she said and stared and waited to see if Rishab would tell her what she already knew. What is there to hide? she asked herself.
He laughed. ‘We have three of these.’
‘You must be having it tough making your ends meet, Rishab. Only three of these?’
‘Yes,’ he chuckled.
She sat back up in her seat and asked, ‘Are you mentally retarded?’
‘Why? Why are you saying that?’
‘No, seriously. Where is that butler, I should ask him,’ she said. ‘I mean why all this? I mean why me? Why not some starlet? Model? Anyone? Why me? This doesn’t make any sense. I have never seen the inside of a Porsche. Or a jet. And I have never seen you before. Anyone who would look at this from the outside would think of me as a gold-digger, or a girl who is trying to ensnare a rich guy because he is insanely wealthy and his father owns nightclubs and cars and jets!’
‘If I had a reason, I would give it to you, but I don’t. I would try to string together words and try to charm you unsuccessfully, but in the simplest of words I think I couldn’t let you go.’
‘Not convincing enough,’ she kicked back and drifted away. It was hard for her to believe that she wasn’t just another girl Rishab wanted to lay. She would have fallen for his words had he been just Rishab, the son a rich father, but Rishab’s surname added a lot many layers to who he was. She tried hard not to think too much into the unrealness of what was happening and, slowly, drifted off.
A loud rumbling of the pla
ne shook her and she got up. She was tightly strapped and safe … and she noticed, tucked in neatly by Rishab in a nice warm blanket.
‘Delhi.’
‘Are you for real or should I go back to sleep?’ she asked groggily with a smile. ‘Because none of this feels real.’
‘It’s very real.’ He got up and pecked her on her cheek. ‘Let’s go.’
Shruti sat there with a hand on her cheek and eyes wide open, too shocked to believe what had just happened. Not just what happened a second ago, but what was happening since morning. The day before, she had lain sloshed in her apartment with no one to call her own and now she was in Delhi, with this mysteriously good-looking and awesomely rich guy, sitting in his jet on New Year’s Eve.
‘Let’s go,’ he now said in a firmer tone.
‘Yes, sure. Let us go. No problem,’ she mocked. ‘I was in Hyderabad this morning and I am in Delhi now. No problem whatsoever …’ her voice trailed off as she got up.
There was a car waiting for them at the footsteps of the step ladder of the aircraft, it was an Mercedes convertible, and they drove for about an hour, after which they reached Greater Kailash, where he had picked out the restaurant. The doorkeeper of the restaurant knew her name, too, and she gave the same bewildered look to him. They went inside and the place she thought would be brimming with people was empty.
Instead, a huge banner had the words, WELCOME SHRUTI, written on it, hung right in front of them. She looked at him and he looked back and smiled. Shocks had become the order of the day and now they failed to register. They sat down at a corner table and the pianist started belting out some really great-sounding tunes.
‘I miss them,’ she said. A tear rolled off her pretty face and wet the napkin below.
‘Everything is going to be all right. We will talk to them once we are in Hyderabad,’ he assured her.
‘We?’
‘I mean, if you want me to, I can talk to them.’ He came to sit next to her. He took her hands into his and looked at her.
‘Are we meeting again?’ she looked at him teary-eyed.
‘Had my mother been alive I would have had her meet you. You’re that sweet. Does that feel like we are meeting again?’
‘No, I just thought … I am sorry. I don’t know. You are good-looking …’
‘Am I?’ he asked and smiled.
‘You know you are … you have all this …’ She pointed to the restaurant.
‘This is not mine, it’s rented.’
‘Not my point! You are rich, good-looking, smart and everything. And most importantly, you don’t know me. Why are you doing this, Rishab?’
‘Do you think that after last night, I don’t know you?’
‘Did I sleep with you?’
‘NO! You didn’t! But you talked a lot and I feel I know you for years. I have never heard someone talk for that long.’
‘Please don’t show me dreams that would eventually …’
‘This is not a dream.’
They sat there, hand in hand, till it was late evening. They boarded the flight back to Hyderabad just before 10.00 p.m. Just as she boarded the plane, Garima started calling her again and she kept disconnecting the calls. Garima texted her asking if she were okay and she texted back saying that she was doing great without them. Within seconds Abhijeet started calling her and it took all her strength not to receive the call and tell him how much she missed every one of them.
Shruti had pestered him to go back to Hyderabad before it struck 12 and be there at his nightclub that night. All her fervent requests were turned down and she was categorically told to shut up till the time they reached the club.
They reached Hyderabad just in time and rushed to the club. Rishab drove like a maniac as he had sworn to her that he wouldn’t say a thing before they reached the club and it was getting mighty difficult for him to do so. Rishab pecked her once or twice when they stopped at red lights, and she made a purring sound every time and went back to sleep.
‘I had a great time today,’ Rishab said, as they stood outside the back entrance of Elan. The parking lot of Elan was choc-a-bloc with cars. ‘You know what?’ Rishab said, starting to walk away. ‘I don’t care about the party any more. And since you care so much about the party tonight, I think you should go and attend it.’
‘What? I don’t own this place, you do, Rishab! Are you out of your mind? Just go inside and have your moment,’ she protested.
‘No. Come with me, I will show you something,’ he said and started rushing towards the road and waited for Shruti to catch up.
‘What the …’
He crossed the road and reached the other side where there was a half-built apartment where construction seemed to have been stopped long back and waited for her. She ran and joined him, cursing Rishab for his stupidity.
‘Where are we going?’ Shruti asked, as Rishab led her into darkness. ‘I think you should go back to Elan.’
They crossed the half-broken, rusted brown gate of the apartment. There were mounds of hardened cement and sand everywhere and stray dogs had made this place their haven. It was pitch-dark. There were truck trails everywhere with a broken-down truck lying upside down at a distance. It looked like it had been years since anyone had been there. There were no traces of human existence and barring the croaking of crickets, there was an eerie silence all around them.
‘Just come.’ He clutched her hand again and they jumped on the mounds and entered what would have been the lobby of the building. They reached the bottom of the flight of stairs which went up twenty-three storeys and they could see the moonlight coming in through the terrace of the building.
‘Where?’ she asked.
‘Up there,’ he pointed upwards.
Before she could say anything, he had already started going up the stairs and was pulling her up with him. They went on climbing the stairs, Rishab out of instinct and Shruti following him step for step.
They had climbed five storeys now and the darkness engulfed them. Shruti had started panting and was running out of breath.
Without asking for permission, he turned around and pulled her to him. In one fluid motion, he swept her feet off the ground and picked her up. She was off the ground now, with one arm around his neck and one looped from the front, clutching the first one. She wanted to scream out as she looked down the stairs which had no railing, but she felt safe in his arms; he strode up the stairs, as if she weighed nothing. She kept her head close to his chest. She felt like losing herself in him. She already had.
‘I can walk,’ she murmured half-heartedly.
‘I know,’ he said and kept walking up the stairs. His grasp was strong and his legs did not miss a pace.
Shruti thought, if she was ever to fall in love again, it would be now. Rishab was everything she ever wanted, he was everything everyone promised her.
Rishab’s stride never slackened, as he walked up floor after floor. They got nearer to the light. Shruti looked down once and her stomach churned. They reached the twenty-third floor of what was planned to be the terrace of that building and set her down. He walked to the edge of the roof and said, ‘See,’ and pointed in the direction of the club.
She saw Elan beautifully illuminated with all kinds of lights. She could not hear a thing but she could feel the beat of the music thump against the windows of the club. She looked around to see the entire city of Hyderabad lit up. It was full of activity; there were cars buzzing around, buses, autos, all looking like specks from up there. They were far removed from the chaos, the rush and the revelry.
He went further to the edge of the building and sat with his legs dangling down from there. Shruti was looking at him from a distance, too scared to say anything.
‘Rishab, come back from there,’ she said. The terrace had no railing and it scared the shit out of her.
He didn’t reply. He looked back and motioned her to come near. With trembling feet and hands, she gave her hand to him and sat down beside him. She looked down
almost thirty storeys. Her heart pounded as Rishab pulled her close and clutched on to him with all her life. They were sitting with nothing under their feet but a dark thirty-storey drop. She looked down, her stomach felt strange and she hung on to him harder.
‘This is my favourite place, ever since I was twelve.’ He looked at her and held her hand in his, started to caress them slowly. He continued, ‘This was to be built in my mother’s name. It was my mother’s dream. She wanted this to be an office that would be the nerve centre of all the schools and colleges she wanted to open for the poor. She wanted her office to be right here, where we are sitting. My father thought it was a waste of money. Mom had never asked for anything in life except this. He could well afford it. But he couldn’t see his money not making more money. He thought my mother wanted this because she had nothing to do. Once she died, this never got completed … He never got time from sleeping with female starlets who were younger than I was.’ He stopped and a few tears hit her hands. He collected himself, started staring at a distance and continued, ‘He wanted to convert this into an upscale residential apartment. The government didn’t allow that and he stopped the investment. He blocked all funds. I talked to him and he said business can’t be compromised for dead people’s dreams,’ Rishabh rasped and paused.
‘He tried to sell it off but nobody would take it. I was still studying when I overheard my dad talking to somebody who was ready to buy it. I left everything and came here. I came here and asked my father for the funds to open Elan. That loud, terrible place needed more money than this, and we had to bribe the whole state for it. But my father didn’t mind. I told him this place, this unfinished office building, would be a huge hotel facing Elan some day. He didn’t sell it because he believed it could be done. But it will not be a hotel, it will be the way Mom wanted it. This is what my dream is,’ he said. ‘Not that.’ He pointed to the club.
He wasn’t crying any more. They were quiet for a while. Shruti didn’t say a word. She didn’t have anything to say.
Now That You're Rich: Let's fall in Love! Page 19
