Radha & Jai's Recipe for Romance

by Nisha Sharma

  “Oh, shove it,” Anita said from the right front, closest to the mirror. “Radha, you should give him the jumps at the thirty-second mark.”

  There was a round of laughter. Radha had to remember that Bollywood dance class wasn’t as…strict as her kathak classes had been. The joking was not something she was used to, but she could adjust.

  “You should’ve all received the music clip by now, and if you haven’t, then do your best to keep up.” She looked at Jai, who stood to the side. “To win the Winter Showcase, I’m going to use your strengths in this routine, but kathak is my strength, and you’ll have to learn it, too. The elements of kathak we’ll focus on are nritta, which is dance technique, and katha, which is story or the act of storytelling. The story we are telling is from the perspective of a bride, a groom, and two different families.”

  “We’ve mapped the intro already,” Shakti added. “It’s amazing.”

  “We’ll teach the intro in hour two. First we’ll do assessments. I need to know skill levels in this room to finish the routine. Ready?”

  Thirteen heads nodded at her.

  “Okay. I’ll go first, and then I expect all of you, seniors included, to repeat what I did when we play the music again. Basically, what you’ll hear is a group of bols, beats repeated three times. I’m going to use a mix of footwork and mudras, hand gestures with footwork.”

  She unzipped her sweatshirt, kicked off her flip-flops, and touched the floor with the tips of her fingers before pressing her hand against her chest. Dance was a prayer, and even when she wasn’t wearing her ghungroos, it was important to her that the gods knew she was still honoring them. Normally, she’d do a full namaskar, but it didn’t feel right just yet.

  She took her place in the middle of the floor and viciously tamped down the bubbling anxiety in her throat. Nope, not a performance. Not an audition. Not anything but a demonstration to her peers.

  The music began, and the familiar tabla beat centered her.

  One two three four, one two three four.

  Her feet slapped against the tile, and her hands moved in rhythm. Her chakkars were solid, one of her strengths, which was most likely why she felt stronger each time she spun.

  She repeated the combination two more times, and when the music ended, she stopped and held her pose. The team clapped.

  “I’ll break it down for you all now,” she said. “Jai, can you play it from the top? Let’s see if we can do it together.”

  They faced the mirror, and after counting down, she watched in awe as the majority of the dancers were able to complete most of the moves she’d demonstrated. The tihai was not easy, but overall the team had so much more potential than she’d thought. Their last choreographer had been underutilizing their skill.

  “Okay, let’s try something a little harder to warm up.” She’d have to freestyle, but it would be worth it. They started again, and Radha showed a faster piece.

  Half of the team was still able to keep up. If she’d been judging on technique, they wouldn’t have scored that high, but they were able to move and follow along better than she’d expected. That in itself was mind-blowing.

  “Let’s add the two pieces together,” she said. This time when she stood in front of the room to lead the dancers, her eyes met Jai’s through the mirror, and he gave her a thumbs-up. She nodded, and the track started over.

  That was when Radha felt it again. The dance joy that had been so elusive. Happy expressions reflected in the wall mirror in front of her, and the moves that lay dormant inside slipped through like sunlight through opening blinds. Her muscles ached with a familiarity she’d always loved.

  As the music ended, she was sure her dance joy would leave her again too, but when she faced her new students, it was still there. The joy was still inside her, and Radha wanted to cheer, because it had been so long since dance had made her happy.

  “Hey, Radha?” one of the students said. “What if we add a little, I don’t know, sex appeal to it too? Bollywood has a little bit more swagger.”

  The room echoed in laughter. Radha couldn’t help but smile too. “We’ll keep it simple for the warm-up, but let’s see what we can do with the intro.”

  “From the top, Coach?” Jai said.

  “From the top. Five, six, seven, eight!”

  * * *

  Class ended far too soon, in Radha’s opinion, but she could see that she’d exhausted most of the team. They were starting to stagger. T-shirts were removed, hair was tied, water bottles were emptied.

  They’d start again tomorrow, though. Radha couldn’t wait.

  Jai walked over with her tablet. “Great practice. Do you have an idea of skill level now?”

  “Some, but I’d appreciate a little more insight into individual dancers.”

  “Okay.” Was he offering to help her? Maybe she’d been reading into things. “I’m sure Shakti wouldn’t mind helping.”

  “Shakti?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “I mean, I’d do it, but I have the store, and a few quizzes coming up.”

  She definitely had not been reading into his cold-shoulder routine after all. The words were out of her mouth before she could stop herself. “Are you sure school and your store are all that’s stopping you?”

  He looked away. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, one minute you’re texting me every day and promising that we’re working on this together, and the next you can’t get rid of me fast enough. If you don’t want to, I don’t know, hang out with me anymore, or want me to choreograph, then just say so.”

  Before Jai could respond, Shakti called Radha’s name. “Are we on for free period tomorrow? Maybe we can talk about the stage entrance?”

  “Sure, that works for me.”

  Before she could ask Jai to wait, he was already using Shakti’s interference as an excuse to escape. “I have to go to work. See you guys later.” Jai saluted a few other dancers but never once looked back.

  “Radha?” Shakti said.

  “Yeah?”

  Shakti’s lips quirked. “I was just going to ask you if you were planning on going to the Diwali festival this Saturday.”

  “The what?”

  “The Diwali festival! Most of us go because our parents are part of the Indian American Coalition of Central New Jersey. The group hosts a big party with the Princeton University South Asian Students Association. Diwali is in a couple weeks, so this weekend is supposed to start the festivities. You should come!”

  “Oh,” Radha said. “Uh, yeah. Let me think about it. I don’t think I’ve ever gone to a Diwali festival unless I was performing, so I don’t know if it’s going to be my thing.”

  Shakti’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding. You’ve never actually celebrated Diwali? I feel like you’ve missed so much.”

  “Well, we do the puja thing at home, and my mother usually buys me new pajamas, but the Diwali season was always about heritage-event competitions. And my father, well, he was always cooking for Diwali parties at the restaurant….”

  Shakti snorted. “My dad runs a restaurant too, remember? No excuse.”

  “Your dad doesn’t run an Indian restaurant, Shakti.”

  “Yeah, which is why it’s fun that he’s way into it. He went to his first Diwali celebration when he started dating my mom, or so I’m told. He hasn’t stopped celebrating since. I feel like you could be the same way.”

  “Getting really into a Diwali celebration? Yeah, I doubt it, but hey, stranger things have happened to me lately.”

  Shakti and Radha waved at the lingering dancers and left the studio for the parking lot.

  “You know,” Shakti said, “I’m really surprised that Jai didn’t invite you. He’s going with his family this year.”

  “He is?” The pang hurt mor
e viciously than she’d expected.

  Shakti seemed oblivious to her feelings as they continued walking. “Maybe he’s seeing his ex-girlfriend again. She’ll definitely be at the Diwali festival.”

  “Ex-girlfriend?”

  “Oh yeah. Tara. Don’t let her first impression turn you off. She’s actually really nice. I’ve known her for years because our parents are friendly. She leads the Bollywood dance team at Rutgers High.”

  Holy Vishnu. Jai had dated the competition.

  She felt like such a fool. She had talked to him about how Rutgers High had a better team, and he hadn’t said anything.

  That was definitely the nail in the coffin.

  “Thanks for the invite,” she said. “I don’t know if I’ll go, but I’ll keep you posted.”

  “Sounds like a plan. See you tomorrow, Radha!”

  “See ya.” Radha slipped into her mother’s Audi, which she’d borrowed for the day, and headed home. The whole way, she wondered why she’d been so stupid about a boy. She’d started to like Jai—really, really like him. She was such an idiot.

  Chapter Eleven

  JAI

  To: JMuza@PAAS.edu

  From: JPBollywoodBeats@gmail.com

  Subject: School list

  Hey, Masi,

  I know exactly what you’re doing, but because you’re doing it out of love, I’ll go along with it. Here is a list of the schools that I’d apply to IF AND ONLY IF MY LIFE WERE DIFFERENT AND I HAD MONEY.

  Totally a hypothetical list. Columbia, my number one school and Nana Veeru’s favorite, is so expensive that even if I got a scholarship, and had some money set aside, I would still have to take out student loans to afford it.

  Which is why I refuse to send out applications.

  Also, I’m sorry it took me so long to get your father home last night. We were joyriding. He wanted to “talk,” which basically meant that he spent his sweet ol’ time lecturing me, and I had to keep circling your block until he was done.

  Happy early Diwali from this desi boy to his Zimbabwean adopted masi.

  Jai

  Jai did not want to go to the Diwali party. It was an Indian association event, which meant that even if he was hanging with his friends, every aunty in a ten-mile radius would try to introduce him to their daughter. Either that or they would ask him where he was going to college, and that question was infinitely worse.

  At least his friends would be there. And Tara. Maybe he’d ask her what he should do about Radha.

  “My boys look so handsome,” Jai’s mother said. She brushed a hand down Jai’s shoulder, smoothing the lines in his sherwani. She’d dressed up. Instead of her usual tracksuit or thrift-store jeans and a shirt, she’d put on a bright red-and-orange salwar kameez with her cherished gold wedding jewelry. Her short hair was styled, and the small amount of makeup she owned was judiciously used to highlight her happy lines.

  “Can you please refrain from saying stuff like that when we get there, Mom?” Neil grumbled from the back seat. “It’s embarrassing.”

  “Not as embarrassing as Gopal drooling all over himself,” Jai said. He glanced in the rearview mirror to see his older brother snoring with his mouth open. He felt sorry for the guy. He worked the night shift, so he’d normally be sleeping for at least another hour.

  “Neil, wake your brother up,” his mother said. “Gently. I’m just so happy we all can celebrate together.”

  And there it was. The reason he was willing to put up with just about anything. Because of their schedules, they were never in the same place at once. It meant a lot to Mom to be together. They would’ve brought Dad with them, but he’d become agitated and upset when it was time to get ready. He was happier at home reading with the nurse tonight.

  “Yo, drool-zilla. Get up, man.”

  “Neil! I said gently.”

  “What? That is gentle.”

  Jai rolled his eyes at his older brothers as he pulled into the parking lot of the Hyatt Regency. The Princeton South Asian Students Association banner was out front along with the Indian American Coalition of Central New Jersey flag. People wearing way too much jewelry and sparkly clothes were crowding into the hotel entrance.

  “Let me check with the nurse one more time,” Jai’s mother said.

  Jai listened as she made the call and talked to their regular caretaker. He heard the worried tone in his mother’s voice as she asked for an update. A few minutes later, she hung up with tears in her eyes.

  “Your father would’ve loved coming with you boys. He feels so unhappy at these events, though.”

  Jai held out his arms for a hug. “Don’t worry, Mom. We’ll take him out next weekend. All of us. We’ll have Nana Veeru take over like tonight or shut down the store if we have to.”

  His mother leaned in for barely a second before pulling back and patting Jai on the cheek. “You’re a good boy, puttar. Your father would never let you shut down the store, and you know it. He’s a stubborn mule. Like his sons. Now. Let’s go have some fun tonight.”

  Jai shot his brothers a look before they walked under a storm-cloud-covered sky and entered the ballroom together.

  “I’m going to get a drink,” Gopal said after they’d gotten their entrance hand stamps.

  “Gopal!”

  “Nonalcoholic, Mom. I would never.” He kissed her on the cheek and walked toward the bar.

  “Oh, look,” Neil said, motioning to a group of girls in the corner. “Someone has a question about store milk prices over there. I better go help them.”

  “Do your brothers think I immigrated here yesterday?” Jai’s mother said after they’d left.

  Jai laughed and looped an arm over her shoulder. “This is why I’m the smartest. Because I know that I can’t fool you.”

  “No, my baby. You’re my biggest idiot.”

  “Hey! What did I do?”

  She reached up and pinched his chin. “You underestimate your own worth and skill. You got that from me. It’s okay. I’m here to tell you when you’re being foolish.”

  The doors behind them opened with a rush of air, and Jai turned just in time to see Radha enter the banquet hall.

  Her hair hung loose around her face and fell in curls to her waist. She wore a shimmery gold-and-black sleeveless anarkali with a Nehru collar. She was stunning in a classic, golden-age sort of way. But the bigger question was, why was she here?

  “Jai?”

  “Mm-hmm? Yeah?”

  “Do you know her?” his mother asked.

  “Who? Oh, her? Uh, yeah. She’s Winnie’s friend. Radha Chopra. She transferred to the academy. She’s nice, you know, in that distant, we-don’t-really-talk-because-I-never-talk-to-girls kind of way.”

  His mother tapped her fingers against her temple and pointed at him, palm up. “This is one of those moments, my baby, where you’re being foolish. Go say hello.”

  “But I’m here with you. Didn’t you want to spend some time together?”

  “We’re all here at the same time instead of at the house, or the store, or school. That makes me happy. Say hello to your friend, and then introduce her to me later. Acha?”

  “If you’re sure.”

  His mother was already walking away.

  “Okay, then,” he said, but by the time he left his mother’s side, Radha was gone.

  She’d seen him, though, hadn’t she? But even so, he wouldn’t expect her to wait for him. He’d been acting like a tool by avoiding her, and she knew it. The one thing that she didn’t know was that his avoidance had become a necessity, because in the short amount of time he’d spent with her, it had become clear that he really liked her. Neil was right. Their lives were on two completely different paths. But man, he wished things were different.

  Jai scanned the crowd and found her acr
oss the room meeting Shakti next to the buffet tables. Shakti wore bright lemon yellow and stood a head taller than most of the people in the room. She embraced Radha like they were long-lost friends.

  He should go to them.

  Before he could move, Jai felt a tap on his shoulder.

  “Nice seeing you here,” Tara said.

  “Tara. Hey…I was just about to go find, uh, someone.”

  She gripped his arm just as he turned to walk away. “Hey! I literally came searching for you to see how you’re doing.”

  “Sorry, it’s just…a lot is going on.”

  “Why don’t you talk to me about it? We haven’t caught up in forever.”

  “Sure.” He looked over at Shakti and Radha one last time before focusing on Tara’s face. Her eyelids mimicked a sunset and the colors matched her lehenga. She always looked like she was in portrait mode.

  “So. Tara. How is school?”

  “Great. I already submitted my college applications. We’re finished with our routine, too, for our Winter Showcase. Did you guys find a choreographer?”

  “Sort of,” he said. “She’s new to our school. A friend of Winnie’s.”

  “Winnie Mehta? You mean the Bollywood girl who hates me?” Tara asked.

  Jai smiled. “Yeah. Because you were a jerk to her when you guys first met.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Sorry. Can I help it if people don’t bother getting to know the real me? I’m not a villain in anyone’s story. And, in my defense, you had really pissed me off that day. Who tells a girl that you’re going on a nice date, sees her in heels, and doesn’t say anything about a carnival until he parks in a muddy field?”

  Jai winced. “I had a lot on my mind that day too.”

  “Yeah, well, tell me something new.”

  The DJ transitioned into a fast-paced Bollywood dance number, and the lights dimmed in the banquet hall.

  “Want to dance?” Tara asked. “Like old times. You missed the navratri garba a few weeks ago, so you owe me one since I didn’t have my partner.”