Radha & Jai's Recipe for Romance

by Nisha Sharma

  Everyone huddled in close. Jai scanned the expectant and excited faces, then nodded to Radha. “Care to do the honors?”

  “Me? What, give a pep talk?”

  “This is your show. You’ve made something incredible. We’re happy to be a part of it.”

  There were several nods and cheers.

  “Well,” Radha said. She stepped into the middle of the group circle. “I’ve never given a pep talk, but I’ll tell you something that blew my mind this morning. I realized that one year ago today, I was on my way to London. I was going to the International Kathak Classics competition, where I eventually made it to the final round.

  “I dropped out. I didn’t dance because I was freaked. It’s a long, boring story that I’m sick of telling, frankly, but I learned about regret. I regret not dancing, which is seriously a loaded statement for me, since my mom felt the same way about her career. But I also learned about choices. I don’t want any of you to walk away from tonight with regrets, only memories of the choice you made to be a part of the team. As long as you go out there and love every moment of it, then…well, you’ve succeeded. Thank you for making me a part of your group. This is…mushy and totally pathetic, but you’re all the best.”

  There was a round of “awwww.”

  “Bollywood Beats!” the stage manager called. “Places! Thirty seconds.”

  Jai winked at Radha and put his hand in the center. “One, two, three—let’s go!” The team scattered. He didn’t have time for nerves anymore as he rushed to his first position. He was ready. His team was ready. Radha…well, she’d always been ready to perform, whether she knew it or not.

  Masi’s voice came through the speakers and introduced their performance.

  Finally.

  He looked across the stage to where Radha stood. She leaned down, touched the floor with three fingers, and then touched her chest. When she looked back up at him, he formed a heart with his hands and held it up.

  She did the same.

  There was determination on her face, and he could see it from where he stood.

  The curtain rose, their dialogue voice-over began, and Jai counted down in his head.

  Five. Six. Seven. Eight.

  He moved toward Radha, and she matched his steps. The song reached a crescendo, and excitement rushed through him.

  Shakti burst through the dance line and nailed her cue. The crowd cheered.

  Yes, he chanted in his head. He was hitting every beat, just like he’d practiced. Radha met him in the center of the stage, and he picked her up and twirled her, completing part one of the performance. The other dancers rushed forward, and they moved together. Their bare feet slapped against the hardwood in a rhythm of eight and sixteen counts.

  Elbows up, shoulders back. He could hear his girlfriend’s voice in his head and grinned at the faceless crowd.

  After the second transition, the guys exited stage right. Jai hid offstage behind the black partition curtain and watched in awe as Radha shone. He’d seen her in practice, but under the bright lights and at center stage, she was incredible. It made complete sense that Masi said she was one of the best kathak dancers of her generation.

  He was so entranced that he almost missed his cue. The ceremony scene was the hardest, and when the music transitioned, he could see the concentration on his team’s faces as they moved to the square markers on the stage floor.

  One, two, three, four; one, two, three, four, he counted the footwork off.

  They jumped into the marked square and turned in unison.

  He wanted to fist-pump when they completed the last turn. The music changed again, and Jai and Radha twirled past each other to start the climax.

  The reception scene. Every Bollywood Beats member was onstage. They just had to keep pushing, keep the energy up, even though exhaustion was starting to hit hard.

  He shut down and let muscle memory take over to get him through the last twenty seconds.

  Then he made it.

  Eleven minutes. The routine was eleven minutes and nineteen seconds, and he was breathless, sweating, and holding Radha in a dip at the very last note.

  The room erupted in applause, and the audience surged to their feet. Jai grinned, struggling to hold the pose until the curtains closed.

  The minute they were hidden behind the velvet drapes, he pulled Radha up so that their chests were pressed together, their arms wrapped around each other, and he was kissing her like his life depended on it. His team cheered behind him, almost as loud as the audience.

  When he heard the curtains begin to open again and his team ran forward to form a line, he pulled Radha up to a standing position and spun her out.

  They bowed in unison to an audience shadowed because of the bright stage lights, and then they exited stage left.

  “Nice lipstick,” Shakti said. She tackled him in a hug. “God, we did so good. Like better than when we were in practice!”

  Jai rubbed a hand over his mouth. “Totally. Now we’ll just have to wait to see what the judges come up with.”

  His team hugged and pounded each other on the back as they moved toward the open space behind the stage. Jai grabbed his phone from the bag that he’d left in the corner. He wanted to text his family, to ask them what they thought. If anyone around them had said anything.

  When he saw Masi’s text message, he sobered. Fast.

  Something was wrong. Very wrong.

  He texted Masi back and waited for the response to come in. It was almost immediate.

  “What happened?” Radha asked as she came to stand next to him.

  Some of the other team members came over to hear. He looked at the faces that had trusted him to lead the team this year.

  “I’m not sure. The director wants to see me and Radha and the other seniors at intermission. There seems to be a problem. I don’t have a clue what it could be.”

  He looked at Radha, who’d paled slightly under the thick layer of makeup she wore. He knew what she was thinking. But no. There was no way her mother could’ve intervened…right?

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Radha

  From the Recipe Book of Radha Chopra

  Chicken Makhani

  As much as I love Dada’s recipe for chicken makhani, I made a few tweaks that work better for me. It’s perfect after competitions. To make my recipe for butter chicken, you’ll need:

  Boneless, skinless chicken thighs cut in cubes

  Turmeric

  Garam masala

  Red chilies

  Salt

  Crushed dried fenugreek

  Cumin

  Coriander

  Fresh cilantro

  Plain full-fat yogurt (Greek is better)

  Garlic cloves, divided

  Minced ginger

  Fresh lemon juice

  Butter

  Tomato paste

  Crushed tomatoes

  Chicken stock

  Heavy cream

  Combine yogurt, turmeric, garam masala, 1/2 garlic cloves, ginger, lemon juice, and salt. Stir well. Massage mixture into cubed chicken and marinate for three to six hours.

  Dry roast remainder of seasoning, then crush with mortar and pestle before using.

  On medium heat, panfry chicken cubes until cooked through. In a Dutch oven, melt butter, then add dry roasted seasoning. Cook until fragrant. Stir in ginger, remainder of garlic, chilies, and tomato paste. Add crushed tomatoes and chicken stock. Keep stirring to avoid contents from sticking at the bottom of the pot. Blend with immersion blender.

  Turn heat to medium until sauce begins to thicken and boil. Add chicken and cook covered. Stir in cream. Add additional seasoning if needed, per taste. Simmer for the final twenty minutes.

  Radha knew tha
t if something was wrong, there was a very good chance it had to do with her. Scenes from London flashed in her brain like a horror movie on repeat. She didn’t have to use her inhaler once, but there was a chance that after this meeting, she was going to be sucking on it.

  She followed Jai and the other senior dancers into the dressing rooms that were reserved as a meeting place for faculty. The director and Principal Miller were already inside. Principal Miller, a slender man with a shock of white hair, stood with his arms clasped in front of him. Radha had only seen him at assemblies, but people seemed to like him.

  “Can you all please file in?” Principal Miller asked. “Yes, thank you. Please close the door, Anita. Great, thanks.”

  The director spoke first. “You all did a wonderful job. I asked Jai to bring you here, because this particularly affects your future as performers more than your junior team members. A group of parents formally submitted a complaint at the start of the show about your place in the showcase. They would like for us to disqualify your team from being judged as part of the competition.”

  “What?”

  “Why would they do that?”

  “Is it because we’re a Bollywood dance team?”

  Principal Miller held up his hand for attention. “I’m so sorry that your performance is shadowed by this, but we have to ask a few questions.”

  Radha waited, holding her breath.

  “Director Muza has given me her answer, but I have to hear it directly from you. Did some of you go to the Bollywood Blowout at New York University?” Principal Miller asked.

  Every single person in the room nodded.

  “And, while there, did you talk to one of the judges? Guru Nandani Modi?”

  “Guru Nandani is a judge?” Radha burst out. “Of the showcase? She’s outside right now?”

  The director nodded. “Guru Nandani was highly recommended to us. We invited her months ago to participate. We haven’t gotten a chance to speak with her yet regarding this…situation, because we wanted to come to you all first.”

  Radha wasn’t exactly a straight-A student like Jai, but she was a freaking kathak master. She could read expression and body language better than anyone in the room. “The parents think I’m cheating. Someone found out that we were at Bollywood Blowout, made a connection between me and Guru Nandani, and now is trying to use my history against the team.”

  Shakti squeezed through the small crowd until she stood shoulder to shoulder with Radha and gripped her hand. Jai gripped the other.

  “I’m not sure how the connection was made—”

  “I can guess,” Anita said. “We have a few people on the team who are dating other dancers. I bet you someone said something about Bollywood Blowout.”

  “And the showcase program does list Guru—uh, this judge as an NYU professor and a kathak dance teacher,” Principal Miller said.

  Radha hadn’t seen the program. She’d been too busy trying not to freak about performing again. But she did have a relationship with Guru Nandani, and she was not going through another year of questioning whether or not she was good enough. Her team had done an amazing job, and screw anyone for trying to tear her down.

  “Guru Nandani used to be my teacher,” Radha said.

  The dressing room quieted, and Radha stepped in front of the principal and the director.

  “I learned from her when I studied at her school in India. I had like a three-minute conversation with her when we ran into each other in the lobby at NYU. I didn’t even know she was going to be here tonight. If anyone is accusing me of cheating, they can talk to me, because I didn’t do it, and the team definitely didn’t cheat.”

  Her supporters, her friends, all nodded in approval around her.

  The director looked down at her hands and then smiled. “I believe you. But your personal connection with a judge creates a conflict of interest. It’s in the rules for the showcase.”

  “So, what does that mean? We’re disqualified?” Hari asked.

  “That’s for us to decide,” Principal Miller said.

  Radha’s team roared in protest around her. She held up a hand and stepped in front of the director. “Fine. Exclude Guru Nandani’s scores.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “If the parents are so concerned that I cheated because I talked to an old teacher once, then exclude her score. There are three other judges, right? That’s more than enough to make a fair assessment in the group-performance category.”

  The director and Principal Miller looked at each other and then at Radha.

  “The other judges don’t have the background to judge a Bollywood dance routine,” the principal said.

  “But they can judge a dance performance,” Radha said. “If they’re experts, they can see that we’re the best. You don’t need to be a Bollywood expert to see talent, just like you don’t have to be Indian to like Indian food. I bet you that we will still have an incredibly competitive score even if the other judges don’t know a paran from a toda. People think it’s unfair that Guru Nandani knows me? Then this is how we can stay in the competition while making the haters happy at the same time.”

  Radha felt Jai’s hand on her shoulder. “She’s right,” he said. “We’re good enough that we don’t need her score. I’m all for it.”

  “Captain and choreographer have spoken,” Shakti said. “All in favor?”

  The team chorused, “Aye!”

  The director and the principal shared another look.

  “We’ll have to discuss with the other teams,” Principal Miller said, “and let the parents know our decision. But your…transparency is appreciated. You all really did a fantastic job, from what we were able to see in the wings. We hope we can resolve this quickly and quietly so we can enjoy the rest of the showcase.”

  The principal led the way by exiting the room first, and Radha felt a sense of relief when she saw the director mouth It’s okay to Jai as she passed him.

  When Radha was one of the last ones left, she shook out the tremors in her hands and rolled her shoulders back.

  “You ready to go sit in the audience?” Jai asked.

  She looked over at the exit. If she rejoined the team, she was going to be bombarded with questions. It was all a bit overwhelming, and truthfully, she’d had enough for the moment.

  “I’m going to run to the bathroom,” she said to Jai. “I also want to take my ghungroos off. I’m a bit noisy with them.”

  “Okay. Want me to wait here?”

  Radha shook her head. “I’ll see you up in the balcony with the rest of the team.”

  “I’ll save you a seat, then,” he said. “And if the director makes the decision before you come back, I’ll let you know.” He kissed her temple and headed off in the opposite direction.

  Radha tiptoed through the backstage corridors to the dressing area where the team had gotten ready. Her bag was still sitting against the wall. She sat down and began untying her ghungroos. The faint sound of the MC asking people to take their seats was barely audible through all the backstage soundproofing.

  Before she could finish, she heard heels clicking against the floorboards.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked as her mother appeared from the entrance.

  Sujata surveyed the space and then strolled over to Radha. She dug into her tote bag and produced a familiar glass bottle. “I brought you juice. Have you gone to the bathroom yet? You always have to pee after performances.”

  “I’m putting these away and then I’ll go.”

  Sujata nodded and tucked the bottle in her bag. When she made no move to leave, Radha resumed unwrapping her ghungroos.

  Damn it, Radha thought. “What are you doing here, Mom? Did you call Guru Nandani?”

  “Guru Nandani? What? No, I’m here be
cause you said you choreographed a group dance and I wanted to come see for myself. Radha, why didn’t you tell me that you were performing?”

  Radha looked up at her mother after she put away the first set of ghungroos. “Really? You’re asking me that?”

  “Yes! I could’ve helped.”

  “I didn’t want you to help, Mom. I don’t want your help unless I ask for it. I’m almost eighteen, and you still make everything about what you want me to do, and I lose my dance joy. Being a part of Bollywood Beats brought it back for me, and I really think that it was because you weren’t involved.”

  There was hurt on her mother’s face, but Radha couldn’t help it. She put her second set of ghungroos in her bag and stood. “I have to go sit with my team.”

  She was halfway to the exit door when her mother called out. “I’m happy you didn’t tell me. About what you were doing, about the performance.”

  Radha whirled. “What?”

  “I’m happy,” Sujata said. She gripped her shoulder bag with both hands. “I wish you’d trusted me with it, but I can understand why you didn’t. As your mother, I have to work harder on making sure my expectations for you are the same as what you want for yourself.”

  “Wait…that sounds like…are you seeing Dr. Werner?”

  “One of the other doctors at her practice, yes. You’re not the only one who can go to therapy, Radha.” She angled her chin. “I want to be as close as we once were, and you have to trust me for that. So I’ll back up, but I’m here if you want me to help.”

  “Oh. Uh…okay.”

  “And, Radha?”

  “Yeah, Mom?”

  Her mother’s eyes glistened. “You looked stunning with your dance joy.”

  They reached for a hug at the same time. The smell of expensive French perfume and hair product always made her think of her boss-babe mom, and she’d missed that.

  “You worked so hard, Radha,” her mother whispered against her temple. “I see that. I see you trying all by yourself because you love it. I really think you’re going to win the competition. Your effort that I asked for is paying off.”