Love Knows No LoC

by Arpit Vageria

  ‘You’re just beyond ridiculous.’ Kabeer said, a little subdued.

  ‘I have already put you through the wringer. I promise I won’t torture you any more.’

  ‘I wouldn’t snatch that credit from you.’

  ‘I’ve come to Mumbai today to celebrate your birthday. Happy birthday, Kabeer. I’ll be outside the stadium if you’ve got a few minutes to meet a girl who has come all the way to Mumbai from Pakistan just for you. Also, I’ve booked a cab, which is here already.’

  ‘You’ve got to be kidding!’ Kabeer abruptly disconnected the call and ran to the gate. There were cars zipping past under the streetlights, but no sign of Zoya or anybody else. There was no cab waiting. He was clueless. Where was she?

  This was the worst kind of joke that she could have played on him. It didn’t seem like Zoya at all.

  All of a sudden, a hand covered his eyes from behind. Kabeer froze, inhaling the perfume that wafted off the love of his life. Ever so gently he covered her soft hand and drew it away from his face. His eyes met hers and time seemed to stand still.

  Her cheeks were pink with excitement and she looked even more ravishing than ever. Kabeer was the happiest man in the world to have her standing in front of him after what seemed like ages. She was in a black crop top and a blue tartan mini skirt combined with knee-high socks and pencil-heeled boots. Her arched eyebrows defined her mesmerizing eyes. Kabeer skipped a heartbeat as she curled her lips into a beautiful smile and winked at him.

  Silently, she pointed her finger to something behind Kabeer and he turned around to find balloons and candle-lit lanterns rise up into the sky from all directions. There were red ones, yellow ones, white ones, heart-shaped ones, and smiley ones. Soon enough, dozens of them were up in the sky, when the last and the biggest one followed, reaching high up, with ‘Happy Birthday’ written across it. The sky looked like a magical garden of balloons proclaiming his happiness to the world at large.

  Kabeer was speechless.

  ‘Say something,’ Zoya whispered.

  He slowly looked down at Zoya, ‘There are no words to express myself at this moment. I mean, thank you. Nobody has ever done anything like this for me. I’ve never done anything like this for anyone. How could you even plan something on this scale in a whole other country? I’m overwhelmed. Thank you,’ he hugged her.

  ‘I have my methods, my dear,’ she said archly, and then blushed rosily.

  ‘And to see you here, Zoya, thank you so much for coming all the way,’ Kabeer said gathering both her hands into his.

  ‘You needn’t articulate your emotions all the time, your eyes say it all. Your letter did half the job, I must admit. You’re an excellent writer.’ A stretch limousine drew up and a chauffeur in white regalia emerged. He held the door open for them and waited.

  ‘Now, this is something unexpected. Where are we going?’

  ‘I have it all planned out and want you to willingly surrender yourself to me,’ she whispered into his ear.

  ‘Do with me as you will,’ he smiled and gallantly helped her into the car and followed her in.

  They caught up with all the news of the incidents and events that had taken place during the time that they had been apart as the car drove around the city. The chauffeur pulled over in front of the grand five-star hotel near Bandstand. This was where Zoya was staying. The chauffeur opened the door for them and Zoya held Kabeer’s hand and drew him through the main door and to the elevator. She placed a finger on his lips as they ascended to the roof.

  It was the most glorious view of Mumbai he had ever seen. He stood looking down at the city spread below, far and wide. Living in Mumbai for so many years, he had never imagined the city to be so beautiful. He didn’t even realize that he had been holding his breath until Zoya came from behind him and put her hand on his shoulder.

  He appreciated that Zoya had gone so far out of her way to make this surprise happen.

  The dining table in the middle of the roof garden restaurant was beautifully laid out with a white lace tablecloth and placemats. A magnificent birthday cake stood in the centre surmounted with one lighted candle. Kabeer felt deeply embarrassed as he cut the cake and the hotel staff sang ‘Happy Birthday’. Zoya laughed as he fed her a slice and she immediately reciprocated with an even bigger slice.

  ‘You’ve made me feel so special, Zoya. I can’t thank you enough. You made my day. In the last couple of months, I thought I would lose you, but thanks for everything.’

  ‘Anything for you, Kabeer. You have made me feel like no one ever has. I adore you and everything about you. The least I could do is make you happy on your happiest day,’ she said, taking his cold palm in hers and warming it.

  The staff dispersed and they sat down to wait for their candlelight dinner. Kabeer reached for her hand, ‘Your presence made my day all the more special. There’s nothing more that I could have asked for on my birthday,’ he said. Zoya couldn’t help but grin from ear to ear. Kabeer just wanted to jump off the table and kiss those beautiful pink lips and never let go for a long time. He couldn’t believe that someone so smart, funny and perfect in every way would go out of her way and do so much for

  him.

  ‘What are you thinking about?’

  ‘I was thinking about how much I truly enjoyed planning this evening. It has been my pet project over the last few months,’ she laughed.

  ‘And I’ll cherish this memory forever, thank you so much, my dear.’

  For a long time, neither of them spoke and sat in companionable silence. The food arrived along with a bottle of red wine. Their dinner conversation was desultory and easy as they enjoyed the past.

  During the post-dinner promenade in the well-appointed gardens of the establishment, Zoya stopped and said, ‘Would you excuse me for a moment? I just need to collect something from my room. I’ll be back in a jiffy.’

  Kabeer sat down on a bench by a fountain. The entire evening felt unreal and he was worried that he would wake up and find it was all just a dream.

  Could he actually get married to her someday? He knew that because he was an Indian and she was a Pakistani could cause trouble for them, but somehow he felt he could take on any troubles that came his way, as long as he was with her.

  Zoya returned with a gift-wrapped package.

  Kabeer shook his head, ‘What’s in it, Zoya?’

  ‘Find out for yourself,’ she replied with a mysterious smile and walked away.

  Kabeer opened the wrapping paper to reveal a Walkman with a cassette inside. There was a note stuck inside with the words, ‘Play the audio cassette.’

  ‘Oh, the old way.’

  ‘Because classic will always remain the best.’

  He chuckled as he plugged in the earphones and pressed ‘play’.

  Zoya’s voice came through the player:

  ‘Hi, Kabeer, if you’re listening to this, it means I’ve successfully carried out my plans for this evening. I hope you’ve enjoyed it so far. I sincerely hope you like this last surprise. I’ve not had a chance to speak with you during the last two months and I missed you so very much. I’ve decided to record this audio to tell you about certain things.

  ‘Before I met you, I had started to lose my faith in love. But you made me feel so loved from the moment I first saw you. I don’t know what I thought, but for some reason, I wanted to keep talking to you. Our first kiss wasn’t planned and we hadn’t even started dating by then but I think that’s what is special about both of us. We follow our heart more than our minds.

  ‘You brought me love and peace, there’s nothing more that I could’ve asked God to give me. I am able to open up my heart to you without hesitation, express my emotions without the fear of being judged. You can be the sincerest and the stupidest person at the same time. You understand me every day, every hour, every moment. Love seems more real and makes more sense than I thought it ever would.

  ‘I know we’ll have our fair share of fights like everybody else and sometimes, w
e’ll feel like we can’t take it any more. I know we belong to two different countries that are bound to hate each other but I am also sure that we’ll be able to overcome our differences and come out stronger. Nobody in the world can complete me the way you do.

  ‘I have waited for a special occasion to tell you this, and I guess, there’s no better occasion than today, your birthday. I propose to love you forever and remain by your side during both the good and the bad.

  ‘Would you like to make me a small yet important part of your life, Kabeer? I am waiting for you just a few metres away. Kiss me if you love me, and turn away if you don’t. I love you.’

  Kabeer was moved by what he heard. He kept the Walkman aside and started walking towards Zoya. She was trying to merge with the shadows, but a smile flickered on her face as Kabeer reached her. He gently cupped her cheeks and they kissed deeply. Kabeer breathed, ‘I love you, Zoya. This has been the best evening of my life and I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.’

  Zoya replied softly, ‘I love you too, Kabeer. I am yours, always.’ She finally handed over one last note that said: ‘To spend this journey called life with you, I’ve decided to come a little closer to you; I’ve come to Mumbai, finally and forever. I am going to give our love a second chance if you’re willing to. I am going to stay in your country if it treats me as one of you. I am going to be an Indian, who would still be a Pakistani at heart, if you’re ready to be a Pakistani who would be an Indian at heart for me.’

  ‘Happy birthday, Kabeer,’ she whispered. ‘This is the best gift I could ever get!’ Kabeer replied and hugged her.

  CHAPTER 32

  October ’16

  Kabeer and Zoya were nesting and looking for an apartment in Mumbai. They took time out of their busy schedules to meet for lunches, dinners or to just grab a cup of coffee and compared notes to see how their apartment hunt was panning out.

  ‘Lokhandwala, Versova and Veera Desai flats rejected me for being a Pakistani,’ she wrote down in her little logbook.

  ‘Where are we heading today?’ Zoya was at the dressing table, about to apply her make-up.

  ‘Will your make-up match the locality?’ Kabeer raised himself on his elbow to watch her.

  ‘I certainly don’t want ugliness to be the reason for rejection.’

  ‘That’s so not going to happen,’ Kabeer swung his long legs out of the bed and rose in magnificent nakedness.

  Zoya warded him off, ‘Not until I get an apartment for us.’

  They reached their destination and Kabeer parked the car as he saw the broker waiting for them.

  ‘Hello,’ Kabeer greeted Ajay Apte from Happy Real Estate. The broker ignored Kabeer and beamed at Zoya, who looked lovely in her crop top, skinny jeans and sunglasses.

  He looked at her up and down gravely and said, ‘You should’ve worn salwar kameez.’

  ‘Why?’ Zoya asked in confusion.

  ‘Hindustani ladkiyon pe yeh chote kapde shobha nahi dete, madam,’ Apte replied.

  ‘Par main Pakistani hoon.’

  ‘Hindustan–Pakistan are brother and sister, madam,’ said Apte patronizingly. Zoya frowned.

  A security man stopped the trio at the gates of the gated community, insisting they sign the guest entry register.

  ‘Don’t you know these two?’ Apte asked the man.

  ‘Still need the signature,’ he said resolutely. Kabeer quickly registered on behalf of everyone, not wanting to make a national incident about it.

  The owner of the apartment, a tall, bald, middle-aged man, graciously invited them in.

  ‘You need not take off your shoes. It’s fine,’ Apte told Zoya and Kabeer.

  ‘No, it is not,’ the owner said, frowning at Apte. Zoya and Kabeer dutifully removed their shoes at the entrance. After taking an entire tour of the apartment, Zoya looked really happy.

  They returned to the living room to close the deal. The owner sat across from them on one of the sofas and started typing furiously on his phone. He didn’t pay any attention to the potential tenants. Meanwhile, Zoya, Kabeer and Apte waited awkwardly. Finally, the broker cleared his throat and said, ‘Sir, Zoya madam wants to rent this apartment.’

  ‘Zoya?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You’re Muslim?’ He turned to look at her.

  It was clear that the landlord wasn’t aware of Kabeer and Zoya’s celebrity statuses and when Zoya was introduced, he scowled at Apte, ‘Yes.’

  ‘This is a gated community purely for Hindus, so Muslims are unacceptable.’

  ‘Sir, she is a good woman. She won’t create any trouble. Just tell her the rent.’

  ‘The housing society won’t allow her to stay here, Apte,’ his tone was softer this time, as he shook his head and smiled apologetically.

  ‘The secretary is a good friend, so this won’t be an issue,’ replied Apte.

  ‘Oh, all right then, it’ll be an eleven-month lease agreement. No drinks. No boys. No late-night parties,’ the owner reeled off the list by rote.

  ‘What’s the rent?’ Zoya asked.

  ‘Rs 50,000 rent plus Rs 2 lakh deposit.’

  ‘Done.’ Zoya accepted the terms and conditions without batting an eyelid. Kabeer raised his eyebrows at her.

  ‘What do you do?’ the owner asked her.

  ‘I am a singer,’ Zoya replied. He gave her a look and said, ‘Nice. Nowadays kids are delving into creative fields. My son too wanted to be a singer but he doesn’t have a good voice, so we made sure he realized

  that.’

  Zoya didn’t respond.

  ‘I’ll need Xerox copies of your Aadhaar card and PAN card for finalizing the agreement.’

  ‘I don’t have an Aadhaar card or PAN card,’ Zoya said hesitantly, as Kabeer and Apte looked at each other, tensed that this might be the point where they lost the apartment.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I am not an Indian, I am a Pakistani,’ Zoya replied, in a low voice. The owner laughed it off. ‘You’re a Pakistani. Where is your gun?’ He laughed harder. Zoya looked offended but didn’t say anything.

  ‘I am a Pakistani and we travel without guns, just like you Indians,’ she replied firmly.

  The owner looked at her and then at Kabeer in confusion. He finally turned to Apte. ‘What were you thinking bringing a Pakistani to my home, Apte?’

  ‘Why are you making a big deal out of it? She’ll be no trouble.’

  But the apartment owner flew up into the boughs about it and threatened to call the police. Kabeer stepped in at this juncture and told the furious landlord to back off. ‘You’re crossing your limits, sir.’

  ‘If I cross my limits, all of you will be in trouble. It’s better that y’all leave. This is my flat and I won’t have a tenant who comes from a nation that sponsors terrorism and kills my countrymen.’

  ‘I can say the same thing about your nation as well, sir,’ Zoya replied furiously.

  ‘Shut up! Can you please shut up?’ Kabeer told her exasperatedly as she looked at him in shock.

  Zoya flounced out of the apartment; Kabeer followed. They didn’t say a word until they were back in the car and heading back to the hotel.

  ‘He was insulting my nation and you asked me to shut up?’

  ‘No-no. See, he was getting hyper and I didn’t want you to get into any trouble. If he would have called the police, you would’ve landed yourself in a fine mess, baby.’ Kabeer held her hands and kissed her forehead. ‘Don’t worry. You’re my responsibility. I’ll find you a nice apartment. I promise,’ he smiled.

  It was getting dark and the roads were fairly empty. ‘I want to drive,’ said Zoya.

  ‘It’s Mumbai,’ protested Kabeer. ‘These roads aren’t really safe.’

  ‘They’re no different from the streets back home. Please, Kabeer?’

  ‘I can never refuse you anything,’ Kabeer gave in.

  ‘Thanks for having my back today,’ said Zoya after they swapped places in the car.

 
; ‘I should’ve slapped that dog for insulting your country.’

  ‘We’re used to it,’ shrugged Zoya. ‘What matters is the opinion of one’s close ones. I loved the India of my grandfather’s anecdotes. I truly want to be loved that way someday.’

  ‘You’ll receive adulation beyond your expectations, Zoya. People in my country are known for their warmth and hospitality.’

  Zoya smiled and said nothing.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I don’t want to be the favourite guest, Kabeer. I want to be a part of you all. What I seek with you is permanence.’

  A traffic police vehicle flagged down their car at that moment. She drew up at the kerb and rolled down her window.

  A policeman got out of the jeep and approached the window on the driver’s side, ‘Your licence, please.’

  Zoya handed over her driver’s licence.

  The cop looked shocked, ‘It’s a Pakistani licence.’

  ‘I am a Pakistani, sir,’ Zoya replied. He withdrew and rapidly spoke into his walkie-talkie before coming back to the car. ‘Show me your passport.’

  ‘It’s in my hotel room.’

  ‘Is there a problem, officer?’ Kabeer leaned across Zoya.

  ‘That’s unacceptable, ma’am,’ said the policeman, ignoring Kabeer, ‘I am afraid you’ll have to accompany me to the police station.’ He signalled to the police jeep parked on the side of the road. Zoya was made to get into the jeep. She felt humiliated sitting in the squad vehicle with the uniformed policemen.

  ‘I am with you, Zoya, don’t worry. Everything will be all right,’ Kabeer said reassuringly as the jeep set off.

  He followed the jeep in the car. For the first time in weeks, Zoya realized how much she missed her own country.

  Another car pulled up alongside, parallel to the jeep. Zoya saw someone holding a large camera and a flash went off as the person clicked her picture. She recognized the face. Vishal Sharma.

  CHAPTER 33

  October ’16