Everyone Has a Story 2

by Savi Sharma

  I looked over at our precious girl who was wriggling in Nisha’s arms. What an amazing miracle that little one was. I felt my heart swell as I thought about how full my life felt with my little family.

  ‘I also want to thank three very important people in my life.’ I nodded at Meera. ‘Thank you, Meera, for believing in me when I didn’t even believe in my own abilities. Your encouragement was very, very important to me when you encouraged me to follow my own dreams to start the café.’ Meera’s lips were pressed together in a smile.

  ‘Vivaan,’ I continued, ‘your financial investment in Kafe Kabir was instrumental, but even more than that, your trust in me and my dream is more valuable than any price tag. Thank you, my dear friend.’ Meera and Nisha both gave him a little hug and Meera pecked a happy kiss on his cheek.

  ‘And Nisha,’ I said, holding my clasped hands over my heart. Unconsciously, my wife made the same gesture. ‘I can’t thank you enough for your constant support, not only as my wife but as my best friend as well. I would be a hell of a man without you to give me meaning.’

  Although only a few steps away, my sweet wife blew me a kiss as I continued my speech. For a moment, I watched as Jianna successfully slid off her mother’s hip and held fast to Nisha’s fingers, so she could toddle around. The baby’s face broke into a huge, drool-filled grin.

  ‘I am beyond excited at how well Kafe Kabir has grown over the last few years. Vivaan has been a tremendous asset in marketing our café. I know he mentions our café when he is away from home because we have many people who seek out Kafe Kabir when they are visiting from other regions.

  ‘And of course, Meera’s book and the stories she wove with such beautiful words, has helped make Kafe Kabir a very familiar name in many households. In short, she has made our café a destination for her readers. Thank you both, my friends,’ I said nodding to the happy couple once more.

  ‘I know you’re all anxious to try that beautiful cake,’ I laughed, ‘but I have one more announcement. Very shortly, we will be opening a second location. Soon, you will be able to enjoy the same amazing coffee and delicious pastries in another section of Pune.’

  ‘Where?’ a voice yelled from the back.

  I grinned. ‘I’m looking at another place tomorrow but a final decision on the location hasn’t been made yet. I have a few ideas, but there are quite a few other locations that I want to visit first.’

  ‘Can you give us a hint?’

  ‘Not until I know more,’ I responded. ‘But I am sure that, due to Vivaan’s marketing talent, the location will be made public before the ink is even dry on the agreement.’

  The audience clapped enthusiastically as I climbed down from my chair into a happy, enormous hug from Nisha, and then one from Meera. Vivaan shook my hand enthusiastically. Stepping back, I could see the pride in their eyes and I felt a sense of satisfaction bubbling up deep within me.

  Walking behind the counter, I started cutting the cake to put on plates. I held the first one out for Nisha, who settled Jianna on her lap. Everyone watched and let out a collective ‘awww’ as my daughter grabbed a fistful of cake and jammed it into her mouth.

  I wanted to watch her, but our guests were hungry too. Vivaan stood beside me and helped hand out the plates to people. I was so glad that we decided on such a large cake, as I handed out plate after plate of creamy sweetness.

  After handing out a few second pieces and fielding a lot of questions about Jianna—everything from who took care of her when Nisha and I were at the café to jokes and predictions about her chosen career—the tidal wave of hungry people finally subsided. I handed Vivaan a plate and noticed the serious look on his face for the first time that evening.

  I knew that look; I saw it in the mirror every time I thought about opening my own café, and then again when I first started thinking about opening the second location. Looking over my shoulder, I asked one of my staff to take over cutting the cake for those who wanted second pieces. She took a quick bite of her cake—yes, it was that good—and took over the cake-cutting duties.

  ‘Can we talk?’ Vivaan asked. ‘Meera and Nisha grabbed a table in the corner.’

  ‘Of course,’ I responded, praying that nothing was wrong. I followed Vivaan through the busy café and sat down at the table, enjoying the relief in my legs as I settled into a chair. I reached over and took Jianna onto my lap so Nisha could clean the sticky icing off her hands. ‘Is everything okay?’

  ‘I was wondering the same thing,’ Meera joined in, her eyes dancing over Vivaan’s slightly tense figure.

  In response, Vivaan nodded. ‘I am fine, but I’ve made a decision about something,’ he began, folding his hands together. ‘Right now, it’s just a thought but it’s something I would like to move forward with. Before I go any further with it, I’d like to talk it over with the three of you.’

  ‘Okay,’ Meera said, her voice a mixture of hesitation and curiosity.

  ‘You see, my friends,’ he continued, looking at each of us slowly, ‘just like you, there is something I would like to do. Something that I have been dreaming of doing.’

  4

  VIVAAN

  I wasn’t sure why I was so nervous telling them about my vision. Maybe it was because once it took shape in my mind, it came to life so ferociously that I was almost afraid my friends would reject the idea. Or they would come up with a reason why it wouldn’t make sense.

  I took a deep breath, and my mind returned to the moment I had the idea. I was at the Masrur Temples at the Reserve Jangal Masrur Joni-I. There was a light mist in the air as I walked through the ruins of the sandstone temples.

  At first, I examined the intricate carvings, no doubt less defined than when they were originally created, and wondered what the other Siskara temples looked like before they were destroyed in a large earthquake in the early 1900s. Then, I sat on the other side of the rectangular reservoir in front of the temples, taking in their reflection in the greenish water.

  I was in awe and was suddenly struck with an urge to share this with someone. Meera, of course; I loved it when she travelled with me. But others as well.

  No pictures could do this amazing scene justice, just like many of the other beautiful places in my homeland. I was not a writer like Meera. I couldn’t put together the right words to tell people about the Masrur Temples or any of the other wonders I had seen.

  Suddenly, I felt a purpose, as strong and hardened as the ruins in front of me. That purpose was to bring people here, to show them the beauty of India.

  The plans that took shape in my mind were bubbling up inside of me as I sat before my friends in Kafe Kabir. ‘I want to start a tour company,’ I began.

  ‘Where?’ Kabir asked. ‘Travelling the world?’

  I looked at Meera and saw a small frown cross her face before she quickly brushed it aside. I spoke quickly to reassure her that I would not go far. ‘No,’ I said, looking at all three faces. ‘I want to start offering tours to people in India.’

  ‘Interesting,’ Nisha mused. ‘But do people really want to take a tour in their own country? I thought they usually travelled to different places of the world.’

  ‘That’s the thing,’ I explained. ‘Too often we take our own country and its amazing culture for granted. I did the same thing when I met you all. I was always keen to run to other places. . . New York, Paris, places in Canada.

  ‘But India always called me home. And now that I’ve been travelling around the country to places both known and unknown, I realised that I could do something that no one else has.’

  ‘And what is that?’ Meera asked, curiosity dancing in her eyes. I reached out and held her hand.

  ‘Think about this,’ I continued. ‘When you travel, how do you do it? You go to a hotel, take out a guidebook, and take day trips to the places that the writers direct you to. You are one of a hundred, or a thousand, walking that same path.

  ‘And at the end of the day, you go back to your hotel, think about your day, and
plan for the next day.’

  ‘What do you propose then?’ Kabir asked, lacing his fingers together. He started to lean forward over the table and I wondered absently if it was because he was concentrating on what I was saying, or if it was so he could hear me better over the din of the café.

  ‘I want to take small groups. I want to arrange for them to stay in people’s houses, immersed in the culture. Not in a hotel room with the same walls and the same slightly uncomfortable bed that they were in the day before.

  ‘Have you ever gone to a strange place and wondered what the local people eat? Where they go when they take their families on picnics?’

  My friends nodded, and I could see the excitement lighting up their eyes as they started to understand and feel my passion. In turn, my own eagerness started to multiply, and I could feel the smile lighting up my eyes as I continued.

  ‘Take our own city, for example,’ I said. ‘There is so much to do and see in Pune. But a traveller might be so overwhelmed by all the traffic and the movement in the city that they might not know how to truly enjoy their visit. Or, what if they only know to go to the popular tourist areas? All our temples, the zoo and some of the parks?’

  Meera nodded thoughtfully. ‘It would be like seeing the surface of a lake. Underneath the surface is a whole other world, a complex ecosystem. But if you didn’t know to look there, you would miss so much.’

  ‘Exactly!’ I said. ‘And there is so much information we can share. For example, people might decide to visit the Torna Fort, but they might not realise that it can take a couple hours to climb up to view it and that there is no place to buy water at the top, so they should bring their own.’

  Nisha nudged Kabir. ‘I seem to recall that happening to us once. Where were we? I can’t remember.’

  Kabir threw his head back and laughed heartily. ‘Lohagad Fort; how could you forget?’

  Meera and I watched the couple exchanging words, and then I gently brought the conversation back to my discussion. ‘Those are exactly the things that a company like mine could do and bring value to travellers,’ I said. ‘A write-up on a website greatly differs from going with someone who has those bits of information. But it can go beyond the basics as well. If you’re going to Rajgad Fort, you can find important information on any smartphone, but there is so much more than what someone is going to read in a few paragraphs on a website.’

  ‘Such as?’ Nisha prodded.

  I was happy to have her challenging me. Nisha had an amazing way of prodding people to reach further in what they were doing. It must have been the mother in her. ‘Such as. . . I can provide a detailed history of the fort.’

  ‘History is critical for people, although many don’t realise it,’ Meera said thoughtfully. ‘It explains why people do what they do. . . and why they made the decisions they did to shape our country.’

  Although it was very hot in the café and I could feel my shirt clinging to me a little, I shivered. Meera completely understood my ambition. I squeezed her hand once again; I was so happy that she was thinking the same way I was.

  ‘I think it’s the perfect idea,’ Meera said, giving me a huge grin.

  ‘I do, too,’ Kabir agreed. ‘So, have you decided on a name yet?’

  I nodded. ‘I will call it “Musafir”.’

  Nisha grinned. ‘“Traveller”—I love it!’

  Meera and Kabir nodded their agreement. ‘It’s the perfect name, Vivaan,’ Meera breathed.

  ‘I am so happy for you, my friend,’ Kabir said sincerely. ‘You are meant for amazing things, and what a perfect way to show people our country. You will be flying even higher than ever.’

  I looked at my friends. I had known they would support me, but I was humbled by their encouragement.

  ‘What are the next steps?’ Meera asked.

  ‘I’ll be meeting some investors in Bangalore who might be interested in contributing to my startup,’ I said. ‘It will be on a small scale at first until I grow the business, but I think people will be interested in the concept.’

  ‘Terrific!’ Meera said enthusiastically. ‘When will these meetings take place?’

  ‘I haven’t confirmed anything yet,’ I said. ‘It was important for me to discuss the idea with you three first. But I’m thinking sometime next week.’ I turned to Meera. ‘Do you think you would be able to come with me? We could have a small holiday together between my meetings with the investors.’

  ‘Let me check.’ Meera frowned a little, thinking. She reached into her purse, pulled out her phone, and began to check her schedule. ‘Oh,’ she said, disappointment in her voice. ‘That is when the Delhi Lit Fest is scheduled. But this is important. I can cancel my meetings and come with you.’

  I shook my head. ‘No, no,’ I said. ‘That is an important time for you as well.’

  ‘But I want to support you,’ she insisted, a look of determination flashing in her eyes.

  ‘We are both following our dreams,’ I said. ‘This is only one step in both of our careers, but it is an important one for each of us.’

  Meera smiled and leaned over for a small hug. ‘That is a very good point,’ she said. ‘We will have plenty of opportunities to do things together.’

  ‘It’s all settled, then,’ Kabir said happily, clapping his hands loudly. ‘Let’s get back to our guests and let Jianna open her presents.’

  We stood up from the small table and watched Kabir and Nisha return to the party. Meera started to follow them, but I caught her hand and tugged her close to my side. Burying my face in her hair, I said quietly, ‘Let’s plan a special dinner date this weekend. You and I need some alone time to celebrate before we go off on our respective trips.’

  Meera leaned into my arms and I could feel her nodding. ‘I think that is a very good idea,’ she murmured her agreement.

  Although my thoughts were bursting with ideas for Musafir, another idea was starting to move to the front of my mind. Meera and I had been together for three years now, and while we had both decided to take our relationship slowly, I was beginning to think it was time to take things to the next level. I knew she was the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. Without a doubt, I knew I was ready to ask Meera to marry me.

  5

  VIVAAN

  Meera’s black high-heeled shoes clicked smartly on the tiled floor as we walked to the entrance of the rooftop restaurant. Although firmly beside her, my thoughts were still at her house as I relived picking her up.

  Once again, she took my breath away when she answered the door. Her hair flowed loosely over her shoulders, and there was a soft curl in her dark tresses. Her dress was black and hugged her thin body beautifully, as if, it too was as taken with her beauty as I was.

  ‘You look amazing,’ I heard myself say, so taken with her appearance that I barely realised the words came past my lips. ‘Amazing’ was such an understatement, but I wasn’t equipped to truly put words to my feelings. She was almost too perfect to touch.

  Then she broke into her beautiful Meera smile and threw her arms around me, giving me an excited hug. ‘You did tell me to dress up,’ she said happily. ‘Although you still haven’t told me where we are going.’

  ‘It’s a surprise,’ I said, still astonished myself that I had managed to secure a reservation at Paasha, one of the most popular restaurants in Pune.

  And now, we were at that restaurant, its glass columns glowing with a soft green light as we walked to the entrance. ‘I can’t believe you got reservations here,’ she whispered excitedly. ‘I have always wanted to come here!’

  I nodded modestly. It was the perfect place to take her, knowing I wanted to talk to her about our future together.

  The air was warm as we were escorted to our table, and I heard Meera squeal a little as we took in the beautiful city now waking up for the night. The traffic noises were far below us, and barely noticeable over the soft music.

  I saw Meera’s eyebrows rise when I ordered a bottle of Sutter Home Fr
e Brut—her favourite non-alcoholic champagne. When we were alone again, she leaned across the table and whispered, ‘Gorgeous rooftop view, expensive champagne. . . this is a wonderful way to celebrate Musafir.’

  I started to speak but she leaned back, her eyes dancing in the soft lights. ‘I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it, to be honest,’ she continued. ‘I think it is such a wonderful idea. I love travelling with you because you take the time to learn about where we are going and when we are there, you thoughtfully offer information, not because you know so much, but because you genuinely want to share your knowledge.’

  ‘I’m so glad you understand that about me,’ I said. It was exactly what I try to do. . . to entertain and educate, but not in an ‘I know more than you’ type of way.

  ‘I do,’ she gushed. ‘The natural next step for you is to start your own tour company.’

  ‘I really can’t wait,’ I said. ‘I’ve been thinking about it for a while. But now that I’ve talked to you about the idea, now that I’ve put the words out there in the air and spoken them out loud, suddenly, I can’t get it started fast enough!’

  ‘Good. Then do it.’ She crossed her arms like she was challenging me.

  ‘Yes, ma’am,’ I said, giving her a playful salute. ‘And how is your writing going?’

  Her face fell just a little bit. ‘Okay, I guess.’

  I felt my eyebrows rise. That wasn’t like Meera. ‘Okay? You guess?’

  She rolled her eyes and shook her head before giving me a beautiful smile. ‘Just a little bit of writer’s block or something,’ she said. ‘No big deal. I’m just trying to figure out the next step I want to take.’

  ‘Anything you want to talk over? Maybe I can help.’

  ‘I’m sure this is just a little hiccup,’ she said, taking another sip of the champagne. ‘I just kind of feel like the path I started on with this one storyline is not the right one. I’m thinking of just deleting it and starting over with that section.’