‘Hello, Mini,’ said a man’s voice.
‘What do you want?’ Rivanah’s voice was shivering.
‘I want you to know your own worth, Mini.’
‘That’s what you have been telling me for a long time now. I want a different answer. And a correct one.’
There was silence. Rivanah was looking straight at the biker and knew the person would have his eyes on her.
‘So, you won’t answer?’ she asked.
‘So, you won’t confess?’ the Stranger shot back.
Rivanah became quiet for few seconds and then said, ‘I will confess, but I want something in return. You can’t always push me to do anything you want.’ Though Rivanah was putting forth a condition, she couldn’t sound confident about it.
‘What is it?’
‘I want to see you. As in, I want to see your face.’
There was silence at the other end.
‘The moment you reveal your identity to me, I shall confess to Danny,’ Rivanah said, knowing it was akin to Hobson’s choice for the Stranger, so even though he was being given the freedom to make a free choice, only one option was actually being offered. There was no way the person on the bike was going to reveal his identity to her. Finally she had trapped the Stranger in some sort of dilemma. Her face broke into a sly smile.
‘I shall meet you, Mini.’
The smile disappeared from Rivanah’s face.
‘You mean you are going to reveal your identity?’
‘I shall reveal my identity to you.’
Rivanah swallowed hard and said, ‘Now?’
‘Soon. You will know when I do.’
‘But no tricks. No masks. No nothing.’
‘Promise. No tricks. No masks. No nothing,’ the Stranger said.
‘I’ll wait,’ Rivanah said and noticed her Ola cab had come up. The biker switched the headlight off and allowed the darkness to absorb him.
Rivanah got into the cab and was on her way to her flat.
‘Bhaiya, AC on kar dijiye please,’ she told the driver wiping the sweat off her brow.
‘Madam, AC on hai,’ the driver said.
And yet she was sweating profusely. She took out the wet, fragranced tissue from her purse and rubbed her face and nape with it. She kept looking behind to see if the Stranger was following her, but could spot no one. Something struck her. She took her phone and dialled Sadhu Ram’s number. He picked up the phone and sounded groggy.
‘Yes, madam.’
‘What is Argho doing now?’
‘He came back to his flat two hours back. I’m sitting right outside his apartment gate.’
‘Oh okay, thank you,’ Rivanah said and cut the line. Argho can’t be the Stranger then, she thought. What she and Sadhu Ram didn’t know was that Argho’s bike was missing from the apartment’s garage that moment.
14
There was an unusual buzz in Rivanah’s office. Everyone, especially her own team members, looked happy and energetic. Rivanah soon found out that one of their important clients was happy with the software that her team had developed and had hence thrown a party for all of them after office hours. The news, however, didn’t excite Rivanah much. She would have skipped the party if she had a choice. The moment she sat on the chair in her cubicle, her eyes fell on a pamphlet placed at her desk. It read: Self-defence classes for women. She looked around and saw the same pamphlet on every female employee’s desk. Rivanah saved the phone number given on the pamphlet and folded it neatly before keeping it in her purse. The place was near her residence. She made a mental note of giving it a shot in a day or two. With the Stranger making his fatal intent clear more than a couple of times, self-defence may come in handy, she thought.
All through the morning, Rivanah kept checking her phone from time to time, constantly debating with herself whether the Stranger would actually reveal his identity to her. And if so, where would they meet? But no message came from the Stranger. It wasn’t only about his revelation this time. There was a consequence to the revelation as well. If the Stranger actually revealed his identity, she would have to confess the truth to Danny. The fear of the consequence kept convincing her that the Stranger, as always, wouldn’t reveal himself after all. It was one of those ploys of his to put her on the back foot. Rivanah was too mentally preoccupied to pry on Argho during office hours until she received a phone call from Sadhu Ram.
‘Why did you call me last night?’ Sadhu Ram asked.
‘What?’ The question had come out too abruptly for Rivanah to make any sense of it.
‘What made you call me?’
‘I wanted to check if Argho was at home.’
‘Why suddenly?’
‘Someone had followed me on a bike.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me this last night?’ asked Sadhu Ram.
‘I would have but you told me Argho was at his flat, so I thought . . . why, what happened?’
‘I’m keeping a track of the kilometres his bike has been driven so that I know if he has driven without me knowing. Last night when I checked, it read 1203 kilometres, and this morning when he drove to office it read 1250 kilometres. And he drove straight from his house to the office which is only twenty kilometres.’
Rivanah was quiet. She knew what Sadhu Ram was hinting at.
‘It means he had taken the bike somewhere last night without my knowledge,’ Sadhu Ram said.
The obvious interpretation was: Argho was the Stranger. For the first time in the morning, she pushed her chair back and stood up to have a look at Argho. He was in his cubicle working with his back to her.
‘Hello? Are you there, madam?’ Sadhu Ram spoke over the phone.
‘Yes, yes, I’m here.’ Rivanah sat down on her chair and continued, ‘What do we do now?’
‘Did you notice anything last night that would prove it was Argho following you on bike?’
Rivanah thought for a moment. She hadn’t seen the biker’s face or even noticed the model of the bike. In fact, she didn’t know Argho had a bike.
‘I don’t remember much except that the biker’s helmet was black.’
‘Hmm. That’s not much of a help. Please update me immediately if anything happens. Even if you are remotely suspicious of anything, just let me know.’
‘I sure will.’
The phone call ended. Rivanah once again glanced at Argho, who was still working, and thought: If this guy is the Stranger, then he needs to be given the best actor award.
Before moving out with her team around 8 p.m. to the Little Door eatery in Andheri West, where the client party was supposed to take place, Rivanah called Danny up who told her he too would be late. Rivanah, on one hand, was in no mood to party, but on the other hand, didn’t want to go back to an empty home so early. Reluctantly she asked Danny to pick her up on his way home post the party. A part of the pub was cordoned off for the office team. When Rivanah reached there with her teammates it was rather quiet, but within an hour the place started warming up with people, alcohol and music. After Rivanah had her third Budweiser, she excused herself to go to the loo.
Just as she was about to pull up her panties after relieving herself, her phone beeped with a message.
I’m at the party. See you soon.
It was from one of the numbers belonging to the Stranger. Rivanah couldn’t get up from the seat. Is he really out there in the party? Is he someone I know? Just then she heard a knock on the door.
‘Are you done?’ a female voice asked.
Rivanah quickly pulled up her panties, flushed and moved out. She washed her hands, wiped it dry and then, taking a deep breath, stepped outside. The music seemed even louder now. Her eyes were zeroing-in on each and every person in the restaurant. Some were drinking by the bar, some were sitting on couches in the corners and some dancing on the floor. The disco lights made it impossible for her to recognize anyone besides her colleagues whose faces she was familiar with. Finally she located Argho. He was by the bar outside in the open where p
eople were allowed to smoke. Rivanah immediately called Sadhu Ram.
‘Hello, I just received a message on my phone saying the Stranger is here.’ She was careful nobody overheard her.
‘Don’t worry, I’m already keeping an eye on anyone who so much as approaches you. Just act as if all’s well.’
‘Thanks,’ Rivanah said sounding relieved. She turned around to locate Sadhu Ram but couldn’t see him. She turned to see Argho standing right behind her. She would have spilt his drink had he not pulled his hand back on time.
‘Oops, sorry,’ she said.
‘Not a problem. Enjoying the party?’
‘Yes.’
‘Good. See you around,’ said Argho and went inside. Too casual, Rivanah thought feeling an urge to keep an eye on him but knew Sadhu Ram was on it anyway. She went up to her teammates and picked up her beer pint which she had left mid-way before excusing herself to the restroom.
‘Shots time, everyone!’ one of her teammates screamed coming in with a tray full of tequila-shot pegs, lime and salt. Everyone picked up their pegs except for Rivanah.
‘Don’t tell me you aren’t going to have it?’ asked Rekha, the teammate she was closest to.
‘Not tonight.’
‘Not tonight? Then when? Come on!’
‘Please . . .’
‘If you aren’t drinking, I won’t either.’
‘Don’t be a spoilsport, Rivanah,’ said another teammate.
‘What’s happening?’ It was their US client, Mark Gems. Everyone stood up seeing him.
‘Rivanah says she won’t drink,’ Rekha complained.
‘What?’ Mark sounded almost offended.
‘No I mean, I—’ Rivanah mumbled.
‘What if there’s a prize? 500 dollars to the one who gulps down the maximum shots!’ Mark announced. There was a collective joyous hoot.
Rivanah was in a fix. She couldn’t say no to her client while she knew she wouldn’t be able to resist the temptation of the tequila shots if she tasted one. I won’t go for more than two, she promised herself.
‘All right,’ she said resigning to the situation.
‘That’s the spirit girl!’ Mark said as her teammates lined up in front of the table they had kept the shots on.
‘On the count of three . . .’ Mark said and continued, ‘1—2—3!’
There were seven of them, including Rivanah, and each one of them picked up their peg, did a bottoms-up and sucked on the lime dipped in salt. Mark gestured to one of the waiters who readied another set of shots for them. After each round, the pepping continued and the pressure got to Rivanah. After a total of seven rounds, only three people were left. One of them was Rivanah. The taste of tequila diluted her resolve. By the ninth round, only Rivanah and another guy, Sudhir, were left. On the tenth, Rivanah backed out. Sudhir was declared the winner of 500 dollars by Mark.
‘Now just make sure Sudhir doesn’t take the 500 dollars home. Your drinks are on him,’ Mark said, winking at the group. Everyone laughed out.
‘Let’s burn the floor now. Come on!’ Mark said and made the entire group hit the dance floor. Rivanah’s head was already reeling. She thought she was in control but in reality she was high from the numerous tequila shots she had consumed. Rivanah wanted to simply sit by a chair outside but she was pulled to the dance floor by Mark.
The in-house DJ changed the song from a slow one to a fast Punjabi number. Rivanah started grooving to the beats of the music with her teammates. The tequila shots had invaded her conscience. The fact that the Stranger could be watching her flew out of her mind. After a long time she was this drunk. Every problem seemed trivial. Every guilt seemed avoidable. She felt as free as a bird. It was almost as if the alcohol had turned her into a child once again and everything in life was only a wish away. Just then her eyes fell on the guy who had saved her twice: once in the elevator, then at the backstairs. He had also noticed her stealing chocolates from the boardroom. Rivanah was having trouble recollecting his name. But she was very clear about one thing: she had a huge crush on him. He was busy chit-chatting with a male colleague by the in-house bar with a drink in his hand. Rivanah stopped dancing.
‘What are you looking at?’ Rekha screamed in her ears to negate the sound of the music.
‘Who is that guy?’ Rivanah asked her. Rekha followed her gaze and replied, ‘That’s Nivan. VP, sales.’ Rivanah held her gaze for some time, the way a naughty thought makes you do, and then moved out of the dance floor. Tipsily, she headed straight towards Nivan.
‘Excuse me,’ she said. Nivan, along with the male colleague, turned to look at her.
‘I wanted to thank you,’ Rivanah said in a tipsy voice.
Nivan exchanged a clueless look with the male he was talking to.
‘What for?’ Nivan asked.
‘You saved me some time back.’
‘OH. KAY,’ Nivan said, by now convinced she was extremely drunk.
‘I’ll get a refill,’ the male sitting beside Nivan said and excused himself.
‘So I really wanted to pay back tonight,’ muttered Rivanah as she tried to stand upright.
‘Really?’ an amused Nivan asked.
‘Yes. By dancing with you. May I?’ Saying so, she pulled Nivan to the dance floor. Once there looking at him in the eye, she whispered, ‘Thank you.’
Some of the office people had stopped dancing. It was quite a sight after all—Rivanah pulling the VP, sales, to the floor for a dance. But more than being concerned, it was entertainment for them. As if by a divine plan the music turned into a raunchy English number. Rivanah turned around, gyrating her pelvis rather sexually against Nivan. Before Nivan could think of what to do, Rivanah placed his hands on her waist. Though she was inebriated yet his touch made her labia twitch. Her hips were almost rubbing on to his pelvis as she wildly grooved to the English number. Nivan leaned forward and whispered in her ears, ‘I’m overwhelmed with your payback. And I think I don’t deserve more than this,’ he said with a half-smile.
‘No more?’ Rivanah asked.
‘No more,’ Nivan said. Looking over at her teammate, Rekha, he said, ‘Take care of her.’
‘Sure, sir,’ Rekha replied, going red in the face.
Nivan excused himself to rejoin the male colleague he had left at the bar.
Rekha took Rivanah outside in the open while she kept blabbering ‘I want to pay back Nivan’. Rekha made her sit by a chair and went to get her a glass of water. Rivanah was finding it difficult to focus. If she was drunk before hitting the dance floor, she now felt sloshed. She placed her head on the table in front of her and shut her eyes. She felt like she was levitating in the air. She could hear the DJ had changed the song inside. She was about to stand up to dance on her own when she heard a voice.
‘Hello, Mini.’
15
Rivanah kept staring at the blurry image of the person in front of her. She tried hard to make out the face, but everything seemed hazy. The voice was of a male, she was sure of that. Even the face seemed familiar but . . .
‘I’ve been waiting to meet you, Mister Stranger . . .’ she slurred.
‘I’m here, Mini. Right in front of you. Revealing myself as promised,’ the Stranger said.
‘But . . . but . . .’ She stretched her hand to touch him. She wanted to convince herself it was all real. Her fingertips traced his forehead to his nose to his lips to his chin.
‘Who are you?’ she asked.
‘Who are you, Mini?’ he asked back.
‘I’m Rivanah Bannerjee.’
‘That’s only a name, Mini. And names don’t define people.’
Rivanah kept looking at the blurry image of the Stranger, wishing she had not drunk so much, wishing she could hug the Stranger and explain that making out with Ekansh was a slip on her part, that she isn’t a bad girl, after all, even if she isn’t ready to confess anything to Danny yet.
‘Do you love me?’ she asked. She had no idea why she had asked him that question.
‘Love? Does any one of us even know what love is? We all try to understand it. And the point where we think we have understood it is also the point where we let go of the chance to understand it completely.’
‘I love Danny,’ she said.
‘I’m sure you do.’
‘I don’t want to confess.’
‘You’ll have to.’
‘Why?’
‘I told you something in the very beginning, Mini. Do you remember it?’
‘What?’
‘Know. Your. Worth.’
‘Will I ever know my worth?’
‘I wouldn’t have wasted my time otherwise.’
Rivanah wanted to reach out for his hand but she frowned, hearing someone shout out her name.
‘Rivanah!’ It was Smita, another colleague of hers. Rivanah turned around.
‘You burnt the dance floor, yaar,’ Smita said. Rivanah turned back to look at the Stranger.
‘Done partying?’ She felt someone tap her shoulder. She turned around and saw it was Danny. There was no sight of the Stranger.
‘Huh?’ Rivanah wasn’t ready for Danny. What is he doing here?
‘Hi, I’m Danny. Rivanah’s boyfriend.’
‘I’m Smita. Her colleague.’
‘Good to meet you, Smita. Is the party over? May I take Rivanah home?’
‘Yeah sure. We are wrapping up right now.’
‘But I want to stay and talk to him,’ a sloshed Rivanah blabbered. Danny and Smita exchanged a clueless glance.
‘Talk to whom?’ Danny asked.
‘Nobody,’ Rivanah said. Danny understood how much under the influence of alcohol she was. He helped her into the car and drove straight home.
Next morning, she woke up remembering nothing. The memory of the Stranger coming and talking to her by the bar in the open seemed so distant that she wasn’t sure if it was a memory or a wishful thought. When she checked her phone, it had seven missed calls from Sadhu Ram. She looked around for Danny. Before she could locate him, his phone buzzed. It was Sadhu Ram.
Forget Me Not, Stranger Page 8