by Vikram Bhatt
I couldn’t stop my mind from going back to him slobbering some crazy love mumbo jumbo. In all the time that we had been apart, there was an odd mention of him when I’d met Natasha in Mumbai and the occasional bit of information from sources who had made the social media sites their real homes.
He had quite a reputation, I was told. Perhaps the void that he had tried to fill with that tramp in his apartment had grown into a black hole, and like a black hole he had attracted everything that moved and wore a skirt. Shameful!
And here he was, thinking that his cute, lost, drunken boy routine was going to make a difference to me. Fat chance of that happening! I wasn’t one of his floozies.
Akhil was perceptive enough to notice that all was not well with me the moment I walked into the house. Not that he said anything to that effect, but I saw the look in his eyes. He also noticed that I did not want to talk about it so he continued chatting with Mom and Dad on the Skype call.
Mom and Dad adored Akhil. He had made the effort to be more of a son than a son-in-law to them and they had reciprocated by welcoming him into a world where no one had been allowed since Akshay had passed away.
I peeped into the video screen to say hello. Dad looked frail. I hated it that he looked that way.
‘Hello, Mira! Akhil has been telling us that you love it that your new home is right in the flight path of the planes flying out of Heathrow?’ Dad grinned naughtily as he said that.
‘How is Mom?’ I asked, ignoring his comment.
‘Fast asleep. She has been busy cleaning the house for Diwali though all she does is take things out and put them back exactly where she had taken them out from.’
I grinned despite my sullen mood. I had an image of Mom with all the silver lying around her, cleaning every piece till it was sparkling. Diwali used to be such a happy time, but now, having been away from home for so long, it had stopped having any meaning for me.
‘The clocks go back this weekend for you, don’t they?’ Dad asked Akhil.
‘Yes, this Sunday,’ Akhil confirmed.
‘Wish it was as easy to turn time backwards,’ Dad mumbled and Akhil said something about wanting to see Mom and Dad in their youth, but for me turning back time meant Veer.
What would I have done had I been able to turn time backwards? Of one thing I was certain. I would have never got Natasha to invite Veer to her party. Given a chance, I could gladly do without knowing Mr Veer Rai. He had been a source of constant heartache and little else.
I found myself getting angry again. I tore away from the Skype call, making an excuse of getting dressed for the guests who were coming for dinner. Akhil did not stop me, knowing fully well that it was exactly that—an excuse.
Linda and John had been Londoners all their lives, but now both Akhil and I had been welcomed into their group. Whenever the four of us got together, the conversation tended to swerve towards our common point of interest and pleasure—the film Notting Hill. A lot of people think of the movie as a tad cheesy, but for us it was our thing, especially the references in the movie. We could go on for hours on end talking about the film and laughing at the lines that we had already laughed at scores of times before.
Dinner was done and the Irish cream was flowing around the table. The talk of Notting Hill and the laughter that went with it changed my mood considerably. I could see in Akhil’s eyes that he had noticed my mood getting better. Rarely is a woman as lucky as to find a man so connected to her as Akhil was to me. He could sense both my moods and my feelings even if he was miles away from me. It was strange that I couldn’t do the same with him. Perhaps I was just challenged in the perception department.
‘Do you remember the time Spike says that he knows a woman named Pandora but hasn’t seen her box as yet?’ John was trying to be clear, but his laughter was getting in the way.
We all laughed. Spike’s character also reminded me of the time he thought the mayonnaise was yoghurt, and that made me crack up even more.
‘But the lines I like the best are when Anna asks William if she can stay a while and William says that she could stay forever. That is just so romantic,’ Linda reminisced.
Till this day I have no idea what it was that made me want to break into sobs. Was it the fact that nothing and no one stayed forever? Or was it simply that forever as a concept did not really exist in love?
‘Let me make us a fresh pot of coffee,’ I said quickly and walked out of there in a hurry. I could hear them say they did not want coffee but I did not dare look back for the flood of tears had begun to flow uncontrollably.
I closeted myself in the bathroom on my way to the kitchen and found myself falling on to the floor, racked with sobs and my breath tormented by gasps and whimpers. It was all suddenly clear to me in that one moment lying on the cold bathroom marble why I was so furious with Veer.
I was angry with him because he had caught me out at my attempt to hurt him. He had figured me out even after all these years. I was angry because he could come to me and speak his mind after all these years and know that I would understand. I was angry with him for still being in love with me. I was angry because he knew that I wouldn’t try to hurt him if I was just indifferent. I was angry because I should have been indifferent.
Then I heard a knock on the door. ‘Hey, Mira, are you all right?’ It was Akhil. He seemed anxious.
What was I supposed to say? How was I supposed to respond? Was I all right?
I let silence be the answer.
VEER
Saturday evening
I stood on the pavement that ran along Soho Square. The sun was still a long way from setting, but the clouds had turned a hazy orange with a melancholic touch of grey. I could see two young boys fighting over whose turn it was to ride the bicycle. I knew that the stronger one would win. They always do.
I closed my eyes and drew in a lungful of air. I had to be sure of what I was going to do. I had made Kavita the object of my indecision and vagaries for too long. This time if I went to her I had to make sure I meant what I said. This time around it was all in or bust.
Perhaps the encounter with Mira had been for a reason. It was a celestial reality check.
I am not really a believer in destiny, but if there was a lady in charge of destiny then she was asking me to wake up and smell the coffee. Mira was gone, married. She was not coming back.
I had realized that all my life I had been frightened of commitment because I was always waiting for Mira to return. What if Mira rang the metaphorical doorbell and this time there was another woman filling the void? Would I be able to see her walk away again? And yet, I had to put that fear to rest. Mira was happily married and hated me. I had to move on.
I could see Kavita through the high ceiling-to-floor windows that allowed any passer-by a great view of the art that she showcased in her gallery. She looked beautiful, her long hair cascading down carelessly on her white satin blouse and her craftily cut skirt accentuating her curves.
An older English couple seemed more impressed by her than by the art she was pointing at with her carefully manicured finger. I would be impressed as well, had I been in their place.
Then I saw her look at me; not registering it was me at first, then she looked at me again to make sure it was really me. Even across all that distance and the glass in between, I could see her interest in the couple and the painting wane.
Half an hour later we were at a coffee shop just off the Soho theatre. Kavita was definitely surprised to see me at her gallery. I had not done that since we had begun dating. She invited me into the gallery. I told her what I wanted to say needed somewhere a little more private.
‘So what is this about, Veer?’ she asked me in her posh English accent.
‘I have been a real jerk, Kavita.’
‘Yes, you have,’ she agreed without any malice in her tone.
‘I know I have been keeping this, by this I mean you and me and our relationship, in some kind of limbo, but I would like to end all that a
nd give us a real chance, should you want that as well.’ I was not good at this. I was better at breaking hearts and being broken-hearted.
‘I don’t know, Veer. I find it hard to trust you.’ I could hear the pain in Kavita’s voice and hated myself. The danger of loving broken-hearted people was that they were unfeeling to a point of being emotionally sadistic.
‘I don’t blame you, Kavita, I deserve your scorn. I have acted most selfishly, but . . .’
‘Do you really love me, Veer? Do you love anyone at all?’ Kavita asked, looking straight at me. I was completely taken aback. It was the one question that needed to be answered by me before she could answer all those that I was planning to pose to her.
I took a deep breath. The truth was that I did not love her, but then there was another truth—I wanted to love her. Waiting for the feeling that Mira brought to me was madness. It was not going to happen again. Waiting for that first love feeling was like expecting to be astounded by a magician when you knew how he did his tricks. It was not possible.
I slowly nodded. ‘I do. I love you, Kavita. I do. Why else would I be here?’
Kavita stared deep into my eyes, wondering if she should trust me. Then she looked away, ‘I don’t know, Veer. I need some time please. Too much has happened.’
I nodded. In a way, I was glad that she was taking her time.
I offered to walk her back to the gallery and she accepted with a half-hearted gesture, still deep in thought on my sudden change of heart.
The evening had given way to a clear night. The stars were out in full force and I suspect they were watching us closely. There was a nip in the air. Kavita folded her arms and held them close to herself to keep warm.
‘Do you want my jacket?’ I asked her.
She shook her head, then abruptly stopped walking and looked at me with a new-found intensity.
‘Do you know why a lot of women like me want marriage, Veer? Not because we believe in that institution any more than you do, but because we are insecure that the Veers of the world would change their minds halfway through life and leave us emotionally devastated. I don’t have to marry you, Veer, I don’t want to have you meet my parents. All that was just me continuously testing how invested you are in us. I don’t want to be that person again. It is tiring and taxing. It kills me. I want you, I want to live with you and be happy with you, but I don’t want to live in the misery of an uncertain tomorrow.’
Kavita looked so vulnerable standing there on a Soho pavement in the orange light of the street. This love business was all so tragic. I just wished there was a USB drive for emotions. I would have transferred all my commitment and sincerity to her in a flash.
‘All I can say is I am willing to go to your apartment, cart all the boxes you carried out of my house and lug them back into my apartment without the help of a moving company as penance for my infinite insensitivity.’ I gave her my most disarming smile hoping that it would carry some of my honest intentions with it.
Kavita burst into warm laughter. Then as the stars watched, we kissed under the street light.
‘Then I shall move back in,’ Kavita whispered, a little breathless with our sudden surge of passion. ‘But your penance shall be to give up your side of the bed for me.’
‘Damn you, woman, you strike a hard bargain, don’t you?’ I responded with mock exasperation.
We laughed and then kissed some more.
‘Should we take off and drive up to Inverness?’ I asked Kavita as we lay in bed later that night.
‘Take off when? It is almost Sunday. By the time we get there it would be time to drive back.’
‘I meant on Monday or Tuesday. If you can take some time away from your gallery?’ I asked her, dreamily tracing circles on her bare shoulder with my finger.
‘Monday or Tuesday? Are you serious? What will happen to the world of advertising without Veer Rai?’ Kavita was finding the new, upgraded version of me hard to believe.
I had called Shazia up and told her about my drunken submission to Mira. Shazia was not happy. It was no way to behave with a client, but she appreciated the intent. She could see that I did not want the company to lose a prestigious account because of my complicated past.
‘As usual, your intention is right but the execution all screwed up,’ she had said.
Shazia had promised to handle Jonas but she knew that Jonas did not really care who the creative director was as long as the account remained with Pearl and Grey. I confided in her that I was going to call in sick and run to the highlands. I needed the break.
‘I think you and I need to get away from this maddening city for a bit. If your gallery can spare you?’ I asked Kavita.
‘I am sure Simone can manage three days without me. Gosh! What is the matter with you, Veer? Some kind of alien intervention did this to you?’
‘You could say that,’ I responded with an enigmatic smile.
I called in sick on Monday morning. Shazia called me in the afternoon.
‘Veer, Jonas wants you at the office, no matter how sick you are. “Get him in an ambulance if you need to,” he told me.’ There was a substantial amount of panic in Shazia’s voice.
‘What is the matter?’ I was veering towards a bit of panic myself.
‘I think your Indian Food Company stunt has not paid off. You know how Jonas is, doesn’t reveal much, but he did look very grim to say the least.’
If Mira had decided to complain about my drunken scene, my career in advertising was finished. No firm would hire an ill-behaved sponge.
‘I will be there within the hour.’ I hung up the phone wondering what the love of my life had come to.
There is nothing that goes wrong like love gone wrong.
MIRA
Monday afternoon
The CEO of Pearl and Grey who introduced himself as Jim Jonas struck me as a power-drunk high school teacher on the school’s open day—the kind who was ostentatiously sweet to the children in front of their parents and then caned them silly when he found them alone.
The Pakistani lady sat right across the conference table. She maintained a beaming smile well-directed at me, but in her eyes I could see that she was concerned. She was trying to figure out what conversation I could have had with Mr Jonas and whether her friend was in trouble. She really cared for Veer and it was easy to tell. I wondered if she was in love with Veer. I steadied myself immediately. I did not want to go there with my thoughts.
Almost on cue, Veer walked into the conference room. In his gait was the guilt of a man who had misbehaved and was in for a dressing-down from his superior. Our eyes met for a fleeting moment. He smiled at me. I did not smile back.
‘Hello, Veer,’ Jonas sprang into action rather enthusiastically. ‘I have no idea how you did it but Mrs Varma here wants to re-evaluate her decision on your pitch. She says she may have been too hasty in deciding against it. Her core team sees a lot of merit in your advertising concept.’
I could see the Pakistani lady gape in shock. Veer seemed pretty surprised as well.
‘Thank you,’ he said, turning to look at me. I could see he was genuinely confused now.
‘You are welcome.’ I allowed myself a smile.
‘So the Indian Food Company would like us to shoot the advertisement film that you have conceived,’ Jonas carried on with urgency to cinch the deal. ‘But Mrs Varma has a condition. Since this is your concept it is only right that you oversee it. She will have no one but you. I have gone ahead and assured her that you will be only too happy to do it. Is that not right, Veer, my boy?’
I could see that Veer was completely taken aback by the sudden turn of events. He had been certain and it was quite evident to me, that I was there to protest his drunken misconduct. He did not know me all that well after all.
‘Sure, I would be happy to oversee the entire campaign,’ Veer was doing his best to deal with the sudden turn of events, but he really did not need to be coerced by Jonas.
‘Thank you for your tim
e, Mr Jonas,’ I grabbed my handbag and stood up.
‘Always a pleasure, Mrs Varma, always a pleasure,’ Jonas was up from his seat to get the door for me. I nodded at the Pakistani lady. She smiled enthusiastically.
I crossed Veer on my way out. He looked at me with a mix of gratitude and bafflement. I smiled at him politely.
The days that I wanted Akhil to be home early were the days he would be back late into the night. Had to be an undiscovered law of the Universe—the more anxious you are, the longer it takes to get rid of your anxiety.
I had a lot of corporate accounts to catch up on and a bunch of emails to send, but I was restless, flitting through the pages that Mr Weston had sent for my deliberation, without really registering any of it, the numbers and words a chaotic jumble.
‘Hey, you up?’ Akhil seemed surprised to see me up late on a weeknight.
‘I need to speak to you about something, Akhil, it is important.’
Akhil frowned. ‘That important, huh?’
‘It is to me.’
‘What is important to you is important to me,’ Akhil said as he threw his jacket on the chair and undid his tie. He caught my gaze lingering on the carelessly thrown jacket and laughed. ‘I shall put it away after we finish our important chat.’ Then he sat beside me on the bed and gave me his boyish grin.
‘So, something has been happening that I haven’t told you about,’ I launched into the reason for my restlessness.
‘I know something has been going on.’ His smile stayed, encouraging me to go on.
‘You know about Veer, Veer Rai, the boy I dated all those years back in Mumbai? Have I told you about him?’
‘Yes, you have.’
‘So, as luck would have it, he is the head of creative for Pearl and Grey, the firm that is doing the advertising for Indian Food Company.’ My mind was quickly computing how much I should reveal to him. I couldn’t tell him about my immature attempt at hurting Veer and throwing his concept out the window.
