by Nikita Singh
‘I’m not feeling sorry for myself. I’m just saying that I could do with a bit of toning. Especially now that I’m out in the dating market,’ Maahi said. ‘I know what you’re going to say—no, I’m not doing anything for guys. I’m doing it to be awesome and irresistible.’
Laila snorted. ‘Yeah, okay.’
Once at the gym, Laila proceeded to the treadmill while Maahi signed up for a trial. She had got into the habit of running several years ago when she’d realized she needed physical strength. Since then, running had become an indispensable part of her life. It cleared her head when she needed to tune out the world, be with herself and just sweat it out. Baking also helped her clear her head, but now that it was also her full-time occupation, it was hard to see it as a way to relax. Now when she baked, there were a thousand thoughts about Cookies + Cupcakes going through her head. Also, as much as she loved Maahi, she couldn’t exactly be with herself and clear her head with Maahi chattering in her ears. It was fun, of course, but it wasn’t head-clearing space.
‘You’re doing it again,’ Laila said.
‘What am I doing?’ Maahi asked. She had joined Laila at the cardio stations, getting onto the elliptical machine next to her.
‘Hovering.’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
Laila looked sideways at her and narrowed her eyes. ‘You’ve been doing it all week—ever since I told you Maa’s leaving. You’ve tailed me all day, hovering.’
‘I haven’t tailed you or hovered or whatever. We work together, remember?’
‘Yeah? When was the last time you set foot inside a gym?’
‘That’s not the point,’ Maahi said dismissively. ‘But fine. I was looking out for you because I know this was sudden and even though you don’t tell me anything, I know Aunty leaving can’t be easy on you.’
‘I’m fine.’
‘Of course you are. That’s why I didn’t say anything.’
‘But you hovered.’
‘Stop it! I’m just trying to be your friend if you’d let me.’
‘Be my friend by backing off,’ Laila said, now out of breath. She wiped her forehead with the back of her wrist and slowed the treadmill down a little.
‘You know what you need?’
‘Yes. But I’m guessing you have other ideas?’
‘You need love. A man in your life, someone to talk to, go out with, have fun and chill with,’ Maahi said, her eyes bright as if a light bulb had turned on inside her head.
‘Turn up the speed. You’re barely moving,’ Laila said.
‘No, seriously! I’m telling you. Love makes everything better.’
‘Spare me the Tumblr quotes, please.’
‘Just listen to me now and you’ll thank me later,’ Maahi said in a tone that implied that she knew what she was talking about. Laila doubted it—highly. ‘What about that man? He’s got nice abs. I’m sure he’d be into you, with your flat stomach and toned arms and all. He looks like a male version of you. You guys will have a lot to talk about.’
‘Who, Ronny? I know him and neither of us is interested. Also, stop looking at my stomach.’
‘How do you know neither of you is interested?’
‘Because we aren’t,’ Laila asserted.
Just then, Ronny saw them looking in his direction and waved. Laila nodded at him while Maahi waved back excitedly. She got off her elliptical machine and said, ‘I’m going over there to work out with him. He seems way friendlier than you. And I’m sure he’d let me look at his stomach.’
5
THE GAME
Laila and Maahi weren’t speaking to each other. They didn’t speak to each other on Monday, barely looked in the other’s direction on Tuesday and made their employees relay their messages to the other rather than speaking directly on Wednesday. By Thursday evening, Laila was ready to leave Maahi behind when she still hadn’t come out after Laila had honked three times outside One.
Just as Laila honked the fourth time, Maahi appeared, juggling boxes and files, rushing towards the car. Laila glanced her way briefly before resuming staring right ahead of her at the street. They sat next to each other in the car, letting the radio fill the strained silence between them. When they reached home, they dropped their stuff on the dining table and proceeded to their separate rooms wordlessly. Laila slammed her door first, and sure enough, heard Maahi’s door slam a second later.
Laila spent the next couple of hours locked in her room, reading. When her stomach growled with hunger, she reappeared in the dining area to find Maahi in the kitchen already. Laila had always liked the layout of her house—the open dining and kitchen setup allowed her to work at the dining table while her mother was in the kitchen, or vice versa, so they could spend time together—but right now, she resented it. Noticing that Maahi was making paneer paranthas, Laila got started with raita. When they were done, they sat at opposite ends of the table and ate their dinner quietly, retiring to their rooms immediately after taking the dishes to the sink.
Laila woke up in an even worse mood on Friday morning, something she hadn’t thought possible. In the car, Maahi seemed more anxious than she had been the rest of the week, which put Laila in a slightly better mood. Of course Maahi should be anxious. She should have thought about what she was doing before she did it—or at least after—and even though she refused to accept that she’d crossed a line, her anxiousness proved that she did feel guilty about it.
They spent another day not talking to each other, and it wasn’t until they were back in the car, heading home, that Maahi broke the silence.
‘It’ll be fine,’ she said, turning towards Laila.
‘Shut up,’ Laila said, without looking at her.
Maahi sucked in a breath, and for a moment it seemed as if she was going to launch into an argument, but she didn’t. Once again, they slammed their room doors as soon as they reached home.
Laila immediately took a quick shower and pulled open her cupboard. She hadn’t been on a date since college and here she was, a decade later, picking out an outfit to please a man. All thanks to Maahi, who had figured out exactly what Laila needed in life and arranged it for her—a stupid date with Ronny from the gym. Laila could think of twenty different things she would prefer doing on a Friday night. But this was what she had to do instead.
She ended up choosing a pair of blue denim shorts and a white wrap top. She paired her outfit with pointed black pumps and red lipstick to make it more date appropriate. She didn’t even know where they were going. Ronny had insisted on picking her up from her house, which was very old-fashioned-charming of him, but it eliminated the option of an early escape. Not that she intended on ditching him midway through the date—she was too polite to hurt another person’s feelings like that—but it still made her feel a little cornered. Although she had already decided that this would be their first and last date, she tried to look at the best-case scenario. They could have a good time, a conversation, good food, some wine and part on good terms so that they could still say hi to each other at the gym without any awkwardness.
Promptly at 8 p.m., there was a knock on her bedroom door. ‘Ronny just texted. He’s outside,’ Maahi said when Laila opened it. Without acknowledging her, Laila grabbed her handbag from the dining table as she stomped out. Ronny, who was sitting in his car outside, rushed out when he saw Laila approaching.
‘You look ho—’ he said, stopping himself. His face flushed and he finished, ‘Nice.’
‘Thanks,’ Laila said. Ronny held the passenger door open for her, somehow getting in her way, which resulted in them doing an awkward dance around each other before she could finally get in. ‘Thank you,’ she said again.
Ronny got in and drove rather rashly in the bad traffic, honking over the Punjabi hits blaring from his music system, rendering conversation impossible. Laila preferred the music over awkward conversation, but with every minute they spent not talking to each other, the awkwardness only seemed to escalate. Final
ly, after a good forty-five minutes, Ronny pulled over outside a loud-looking club in south Delhi. There was a line of men with gelled hair and in tight jeans and women with straightened hair and winged eyeliner outside.
‘Are we going dancing?’ Laila asked once Ronny had turned off the ignition and the music stopped.
‘Yep. Super fun, no? Delhi clubbing scene is fire!’ Ronny said, his face lit up at the thought of the ‘fire’ clubbing scene.
‘Mmm.’ Laila really wanted to not make this unpleasant, and even though she had no interest in going to a club that night, she let Ronny lead her to one.
Laila followed Ronny to the door, walking behind him as he made his way determinedly to the bouncer. She had to struggle to keep up with him in her heels as she walked on the uneven street, but tried not to be annoyed with him for it. Maybe he was just nervous and he walked really fast without thinking about someone else trying to walk with him when he was nervous. Laila caught up with him just as he shook hands with the second bouncer and half-hugged him. They were allowed to go right in.
‘My friend owns this place,’ Ronny yelled in her ear as they stepped into the club, Kendrick Lamar booming in their ears.
‘Awesome,’ Laila yelled back.
Ronny said something to the hostess at the entrance and she led them to a table up the stairs, overlooking the dance floor. It was sort of a closed, private balcony, with their table pushed against the glass railing. There were only four tables there, with an electric candle flickering softly in the centre of each. The hostess removed the ‘Reserved’ sign from their table as Laila sat down, looking to her right at the excited crowd dancing downstairs—whatever she could see of it in the blinking neon pink and blue lights.
The hostess left after pouring them full glasses of champagne, which apparently came with the table, and Ronny yelled, ‘Great place, hai na?’
Laila widened her eyes and nodded.
‘Friday nights here are bomb, I’m telling you. Awesome crowd and all.’
‘Yeah.’
‘You go out clubbing a lot?’
Laila cleared her throat and prepared to yell. ‘Not a lot. Maybe once a month. Usually on friends’ birthdays and stuff.’
‘Where do you go?’
‘There are some cool spots in south Delhi with great music. Sometimes we go to Gurgaon.’
‘Cool!’ Ronny nodded approvingly. ‘You have a lot of friends?’
‘Sort of. I went to college in Delhi and I work here now too, so I know a lot of people.’ Laila was about to tell him that even though she couldn’t hang out with her old friends as much, she tried not to miss birthdays and therefore saw the group quite often, when the song changed to an even louder one, and she swallowed the rest of her sentence.
They smiled politely at each other across the table and sipped their drinks, waiting for Rihanna to finish singing. A waiter carried a large platter of appetizers to their table and placed it between them.
‘We didn’t …’ Laila started to say, when Ronny leaned back to make way. The waiter placed the platter between them, smiled and disappeared into the darkness again.
‘You have to try the chicken tikka masala. So yum!’ Ronny said, poking a toothpick into one and shoving it in front of Laila’s mouth. She tried to take the toothpick from him, but he insisted on feeding her. That’s kind of sweet, Laila thought. Sweet in an intrusive, overbearing sort of way, but she could let it go. They ate their appetizers without speaking, communicating only through smiles and nods. Ronny’s eyes were wide with excitement as he looked here and there, bobbing his head to the music. He was fidgeting in his seat, as if unable to sit in place, out of excitement. Laila was glad that she’d let him bring her to this place since he was so clearly thrilled about being there.
Laila looked down to see a couple grinding in the middle of the dance floor. She shifted her gaze to a group of five girls in a loose circle, dancing with their hands in the air, some holding their phones and clutches, some spilling their drinks on their own or other people’s heads accidentally.
‘So, what do you do?’ Laila asked over the music.
That was all the prompting he needed. Ronny screamed through the next five songs, telling her about everything he did all day. At first, Laila thought that his energy and excitement for his work was sweet but midway through the third song, she had to accept that he was self-absorbed and even a little shallow. Turned out, he didn’t just go to the gym, he was a trainer there. Laila wondered how she’d missed it, going to the same gym every day. It was probably because she kept to herself at the gym and he’d only been working there for a few months. He had been born and raised in Gurgaon and lived for fitness. He gave her a lot of fitness and diet tips, which he apparently charged a lot of money for at the gym. Laila laughed dryly and politely thanked him for the favour. Ronny seemed to be having a great time, moving with the beat, mouthing Drake’s lyrics and scanning the dance floor intermittently, chatting happily whenever the music allowed. He had a goofy sort of a voice, and something about his body language made Laila feel as if he were a child trapped inside a grown man’s body.
‘What are your hobbies?’ Ronny asked suddenly.
‘Umm, I like to read.’
‘What is your favourite storybook?’
Laila bit her lip at ‘storybook’ and said evenly, ‘I don’t have one favourite book. I can never compare them because all my favourite ones are brilliant yet so different. I have a lot of favourite writers though.’
‘My favourite is Chetan Bhagat.’ Ronny nodded intelligently.
‘Yeah? What else do you like to do?’ Laila asked, trying to steer the conversation in a different direction.
‘Music is my passion. I’m very passionate about it, from school time only, ever since I was like sixteen.’
‘Oh, do you play an instrument?’
‘No, no. Not play. I love listening to music.’
They fell quiet for a moment after that, Ronny pumping his fists and bouncing to a Fetty Wap song and Laila sipping her champagne.
‘You’re not drinking?’ Laila asked, noticing that while her glass was half-empty, Ronny had stopped after the first sip.
‘Yeah, I don’t drink. Just a sip. But you like the champagne, no?’
‘Why did you order it if you don’t drink?’
‘Champagne is good on dates and stuff,’ Ronny said, winking at her. ‘I toh don’t even eat anything after 7 p.m. Just some chicken … protein is very good.’
Laila dug her toothpick into a seekh kebab, trying to shake off the discomfort she felt. She took another sip of champagne, almost in defiance of the stupid dietary regulations her date was telling her about over dinner.
A little over an hour into their date, three men in shiny shirts appeared. As soon as Ronny saw them, his face split into a huge smile and he got up to receive hard thumps on his back. Laila heard a flurry of ‘What’s up’ and ‘Bro’ and fixed a smile on her face for when it was her turn to greet this group of men.
‘Guys, this is Laila,’ Ronny said, turning to her.
‘Laila, like Laila-Majnu Laila?’ The dude in the sparkly magenta shirt chuckled at his own joke.
‘You should change your name to Majnu right now!’ the one with three gold chains of varying thickness suggested.
Even though he laughed with them, Ronny seemed slightly embarrassed as he glanced sideways at Laila.
‘Hi,’ Laila said, exposing just the right amount of teeth for the semblance of a smile.
‘Let’s go dance, bro!’
‘Yea, bro, the club is rocking tonight!’
‘You go, we’ll join later—’ Ronny started to say, when the dude in the magenta shirt wrapped his arm around Ronny and pulled him towards the stairs. As he was being dragged away, Ronny turned back to look at Laila with a helpless expression on his face.
If she was going to do this, she’d need liquid courage to dull her senses. Laila turned to the table, chugged down Ronny’s glass of champagne as well, p
icked up her purse and followed the men downstairs to the dance floor. She found relief in the fact that at least they wouldn’t have to talk. Trying to make the best of the night, she danced with the group. The music boomed loudly in her ears, vibrating through her entire body and for the first time that night, Laila began to have fun. However, after the first song ended, Ronny decided to hold her hands, twirl her around and groove with her awkwardly instead of dancing together but apart, individually, being responsible exclusively for their own bodies.
Laila let him have a couple of more songs, before shouting into his ear that she should probably head home. Ronny’s friends wouldn’t have it. They kept a protesting Laila on the dance floor for another half hour before Ronny finally listened to her and walked out to the reception with her, away from the music.
‘Come on, yaar! It’s not even eleven!’ Ronny said, wiping the sweat from his forehead with his shirtsleeve; he had spent the last five songs attempting to set the dance floor on fire with his buddies.
‘Really, I would stay if I could, but I need to go,’ Laila said, politely but firmly.
Ronny threw his hands up in the air dramatically and said, ‘Fine, as you like. I’ll drop you.’
‘Nah, it’s all right. I can call an Uber or something. Can we first go settle the bill?’
‘You’re not going home alone, and the bill is settled,’ Ronny declared, in an end-of-discussion tone.
Laila breathed deeply to calm herself and said, ‘What do you mean the bill is settled?’
‘I’ll take care of it. Let’s go.’
‘Wait. Let’s split it.’
‘Arrey, it’s fine—don’t worry about it.’ Ronny’s voice betrayed annoyance, as if she were being unreasonable.
‘Listen, you didn’t even eat or drink much. I’d really feel much more comfortable if you let me pay or at least split the bill. Please,’ Laila added as an afterthought.
But Ronny wouldn’t listen to reason. He seemed to take offense that the girl was offering to pay for their date. After arguing for a minute or so, Laila thought it best to let it go. His ego was hurt and he became more and more unreasonable by the second. To avoid another argument, Laila let him drive her home as well. He seemed much happier once they were back in the car and the music was back on.