Afsana agreed to marry Shanay for a very simple reason: he had asked the fewest questions. He seemed more interested in her present while the others had all seemed to want to view her through the prism of her past. They weren’t present from the beginning of her story, so how would they understand even if she narrated it to them? she often wondered. Would they be able to understand her better if she gave them a quick synopsis of her past? The explanation and the interpretation: did they go hand in hand in a relationship? If they did, the world would have had many more happy couples. The thing was, she knew, people always explained what they wanted to and people always interpreted or misinterpreted these explanations as they wished. What suffered was the truth of that relationship.
Afsana’s and Shanay’s families attended the inauguration, which turned out to be a fair success. Earlier that morning, T2 of the Telegraph had carried a one-page interview of hers and this brought a good number of women in to take advantage of opening-day discounts and goodies on offer along with a few people from the local press. The photographers made her pose with Shanay for some pictures, hopefully to be featured in the papers the following day. After the event was over, both their families waved their goodbyes and left. The press and the other guests also vanished.
Shanay was waiting for her in his car outside the boutique. He wanted to escort her to a new restaurant for dinner. The fact that he hadn’t seen Nirmaan’s name in her telephone’s contact list gave him hope and enough reason to ignore the girl of the anonymous voice-notes, who had injected him with a curiosity for things that he was better off not knowing. Shanay honked a couple of times indicating his impatience.
‘Ma’am, please go. I’ll do the needful, tidy up and lock up before leaving,’ assured one of Afsana’s store assistants.
‘All right. See you girls tomorrow,’ Afsana said and was about to leave when she noticed another of her assistants giggling at the messages in their guest book.
‘What’s it?’ she asked.
‘In all we have 102 comments in the guest book. Only one is by a man. I don’t know what he needed in a woman’s boutique,’ the girl laughed.
‘Perhaps something for his wife, girlfriend, mother or sister,’ Afsana said with an amused smile and turned to leave.
‘His comment says “please call”. Why would we call him?’ the girl asked.
‘That’s fine. I’ll call him tomorrow. What’s his name?’ she heard the other assistant ask.
‘Umm, Nirmaan . . . Bose.’
Afsana stopped dead in her tracks at the boutique’s threshold. She could see Shanay in his car outside. But she turned and asked, ‘What did you say the name was?’
CHAPTER 4
At the airport, on his way back to Bengaluru, Shanay’s hug felt longer than usual, like he was unwilling to let her go. Afsana had had a similar feeling when he had hugged her on her way back from Bengaluru earlier. Ever since her visit to Bengaluru, each of his embraces had been getting tighter and a few seconds longer than the previous one. Something told her it wasn’t out of true love; as far as she could make out, he had fallen head over heels for her the moment they’d met but she put that down to an infatuation, a physical attraction. If only love happened that spontaneously!
‘I’ll call as soon as I reach home,’ Shanay promised.
‘Sure,’ she replied and he gave her a quick peck on her cheek before striding off into the airport. As soon as Shanay disappeared from sight, Afsana got back into her car and drove a short distance out of the airport premises and parked on the side of the road. She wasn’t able to forget the voice. Although she couldn’t identify Nirmaan’s voice after thirteen years, she was sure it was him. She took out a diary and opened it to the last page where she had scribbled something last night after she’d called the number.
Dard ke bichone mein,
Kal raat hum saath soye the.
Ajeeb pagalpan tha humari saanso mein,
Ek dusre se lipatkar roye the.
Apne rooh ki chadar se humne,
Janmo ke daag, bari-bari, dhoye the.
Tez bukhar tha humari aankhon mein,
Kal raat hum behosh se khoye the.
Waqt ki ganga mein jo na baha sake, uss raakh ko,
Humne kal chand phoonkon se udaye the.
Ek unkahi kahaani thi humari hassi mein,
Har shikve ko humne gehri saanso ke kafan chadaye the.
Barson se bilakhte ghavon ko,
Humne siskiyon ki lori se sulaye the.
Ek darwani awaaz thi humare sparsh mein,
Andar ke khwayishon ko pehredaar banake jagaye the.
Shikayetein bohot se thi, lekin,
Kal raat jism ke har kone mein,
Humne hothon se sulah ki mashallein jalayin thi.
Hume yaadon ke mandap mein saath dekh,
Dono ke maazi baraat mein aaye the.
Dard ke bichone mein,
Hum subah tak jage the.
Pehli baar khud se nahi,
Hum duniya se dur bhaage the.
As soon as her assistant told her the name of their sole male guest in the boutique, Afsana felt a thrill of anticipation run through her. Did Nirmaan attend the launch? Why hadn’t she seen him? Had he changed so much that she couldn’t recognize him? She borrowed the assistant’s telephone and dialled the number.
She heard a man say ‘hello’ a few times. Then a silence before he said softly, ‘Affu?’
She immediately hung up. Only she knew the effort it had taken to control her tears. Afsana had blocked and erased the number in the assistant’s phone before leaving the store but not before memorizing it.
Now, sitting in her car a little outside the airport, Afsana took a deep breath and called the number again. It rang. With every ring she could feel her heart thump harder. Suddenly a voice said, ‘Hello?’ No response from Afsana. In that moment her mind flashed back to the time when she had prank-called his landline all those years ago. That was different. This was—
‘Hello?’ he repeated.
‘Hi,’ she said softly, doing her utmost to sound normal.
‘Affu?’
‘Afsana speaking.’
There was a pause.
‘Hi, Afsana.’
It seemed to her that Nirmaan suddenly had nothing to say.
‘What is it?’ she asked.
‘I need to meet you. Once,’ he replied. The last word came out after a lot of hesitation.
‘But I don’t,’ she said and hung up. She knew he wouldn’t call back. He didn’t.
It was only in the evening that she understood it wasn’t she, but her ego talking. She had asked him to wait. To wait, damn it! She would have returned from Europe for her first summer vacation anyway. And she could have sworn on her life that she would have never gone back, even if it had meant that she would have had to elope with him. The way Nirmaan did with Raisa. All through that day she did her best to focus on her work, but every alternate minute an incident from the past came alive in her mind. In these thirteen intermediate years, she had convinced herself that she had moved on, but all it took was one telephone call to disillusion her. She was still stuck in her past. The moving-on part was an illusion. Unable to bear any more, Afsana called him that night. This time he answered the call, but waited for her to speak.
‘Where do you want to meet me?’ she asked.
‘I’m staying at The Park.’
‘I can’t meet you in a hotel,’ she was curt.
‘Then wherever you say,’ he said.
‘I am in South City. Downstairs, in an hour,’ she said and hung up. The next second she called him again.
‘One second extra and I’m not waiting for you,’ Afsana snapped spitefully and cut the call again before he could reply.
She could see the South City entrance from her flat’s window. Minutes later, she saw a cab drop a man by the gate. He simply stood there looking around. A moment later, she received a message: I’m here. She saw the message but didn’t respond. She was about
to walk down, when she stopped and checked herself in the mirror. She hurried out with a quick step.
Afsana saw him smoking, standing by the entrance. His back was to her. She went and stood beside him. Quietly. Nirmaan exhaled and casually turned around. As the smoke dispersed, he saw her. He immediately dropped the cigarette, grinding the stub with the heel of his shoe. She was looking at him in a way that made him acutely uncomfortable.
‘Hi,’ he said. She hadn’t changed much. The same rebellious instinct in her eyes. The same don’t-fuck-with-me attitude on her face. The same . . . she was wearing a nose pin. He wanted to compliment her for that but he didn’t.
As a response to his ‘hi’, her look turned more intense. Nirmaan understood she wasn’t there to converse. He didn’t know where to begin. Should he start explaining why Raisa and he ran away together? How much he had wanted to wait but things had gone awry in his life as well?
‘Did Raisa, by any chance, contact you recently?’ Nirmaan asked.
‘No. She didn’t try to contact me. Not in the last thirteen years. Nor did anyone else,’ if the first part of her speech was laced with spite, the last part had pure venom.
‘I—’ he began but was cut short.
‘Anything else?’ she asked. Nirmaan’s eyes remained on hers for seconds. Then he shook his head, ‘no.’
‘I’m about to get married. It’s better that we don’t meet or contact each other again,’ she said and stalked off. As the lift soundlessly rose towards her floor, Afsana pressed the stop button between floors. She slowly sank into the middle of the elevator and wept. She could have been rude to the entire world, but never with Nirmaan. But life had made her do that.
That night, when Shanay was returning home in Bengaluru, he received a picture on his WhatsApp. It was from Lavisha, the girl who had sent him all the voice notes. She had been desperately trying to reach him ever since he returned to Bengaluru but he hadn’t responded. The picture was of Afsana and Nirmaan by her apartment. The caption beneath the picture read: I think you won’t ignore me now.
CHAPTER 5
Shanay stared at the picture. It was Afsana and Nirmaan standing face to face. He couldn’t be sure how recent the image was, or where they were exactly. It looked like a dark place, on a sidewalk or beside a road. He zoomed in to try and see the detail, in a vain attempt to read all the hidden truths behind their expressions and body language. He ignored Afsana’s call that night. He drank more than usual and then called Lavisha on the number she had used to send the photograph. Unlike the number from which the voice notes came, this matured into a call instantly.
‘Thanks for calling, Shanay,’ Lavisha said.
‘Who clicked that picture? Where was it and when was it?’ he immediately asked.
‘I clicked it. I’m in Kolkata right now. It’s right outside Afsana’s housing society. They met earlier tonight.’
‘Why did you send it to me?’ he asked, trying not to slur.
‘I’m sorry. I know it wasn’t the right thing to do, but I’m helpless.’
‘Why are you helpless? If anyone should be helpless, it should be me. I love Afsana.’
She could feel the emotional embers in his voice.
‘I’m helpless because I don’t have options. You do, Shanay,’ she said.
‘Oh really? What are my options?’
‘Leave Afsana. She isn’t for you. I know you’re supposed to marry her, but trust me whatever she or even Nirmaan says now, they will never love anyone else, ever. Even if they end up living with someone else, they won’t belong to them. Staying together doesn’t always mean that the other person is into you, does it? Right now they may not realize this themselves, but soon they’ll know that they are shards of flint that will always yield a spark when in proximity. And this isn’t a spark of lust or physical communion. This spark will lead to a raging conflagration that could incinerate the world, but their love will be forged into something stronger, for it is genuine. It is natural. And when something is natural, one doesn’t feel guilty about it. One doesn’t think in terms of wrong and right. When there’s no wrong and right about something, then there’s no decision to be made. It’s just there—a kind of love that you and I won’t be able to fathom easily because we’ll never experience it. That’s why, like everyone else, we will only judge it, without understanding even a fraction of what’s between Afsana and Nirmaan. There will always be a difference between you and Nirmaan from her perspective. Nirmaan will always love her without demanding or expecting anything. But you’ll love Afsana until she provides you with whatever you are seeking. If it doesn’t make sense now, one day it will. You also have the option to make sure it isn’t too late by then.’
Lavisha realized she had been talking for some time and added, ‘Do you understand what I’m saying? Are you there, Shanay?’
There was a stark silence for almost a minute, then Shanay snarled, ‘Go to hell!’ and hung up. Next, he called his mother.
‘Hello, beta, what’s up? Why are you calling so late?’ his mother sounded worried. It was rare for Shanay to call after eleven o’clock at night.
‘Mumma, let’s get done with this marriage this very weekend,’ he said. He had never sounded so desperate about anything.
CHAPTER 6
The last time the Agarwals and the Bansals had met for a family dinner was when Afsana and Shanay’s marriage had been fixed. It was in one of the restaurants in JW Marriot. When Mrs Bansal invited Mrs Agarwal, along with her family for dinner, the latter was a little suspicious of the motive. The Agarwal family was further surprised, as was Afsana, to see Shanay at home.
‘You never told me,’ she whispered to him as she hugged him. Shanay flashed a tight smile and thought, like you tell me everything.
‘It’s good to surprise people sometimes,’ he shrugged. Afsana’s alarm bells tolled.
After some pleasantries, the Agarwals were ushered into the dining room. It looked like the proverbial big, fat family dinner. Right in the middle of tucking in, Mr Bansal said, ‘There is something we want to share with you.’
Everyone felt the joyous energy give way to a nervous one.
‘There’s nothing to worry about,’ Mr Bansal assured everybody and smilingly continued, ‘Shanay wants the wedding date to be brought forward so the youngsters can marry a little earlier.’
There was a sigh of relief.
‘That’s not a problem at all,’ Mr Agarwal said.
‘When do you want to get married, beta?’ Mrs Agarwal asked.
‘He wants it to happen this weekend,’ Mrs Bansal replied on her son’s behalf. Shanay glanced at Afsana and noticed her keying something into her phone. Was she relaying the info to Nirmaan, Shanay wondered.
‘Let me consult our panditji and get back to you first thing tomorrow morning,’ Mr Agarwal responded.
‘Sure. I hope you don’t have any problem, Afsana beta?’ Mr Bansal said, looking at her.
‘Certainly not,’ she smiled.
Everyone seemed happy except Shanay. He was sure that she would have had a problem with this sudden urgency. He had hastened their wedding date thinking it would be the right way to strike back after she squashed his ego by meeting Nirmaan on the sly. His phone buzzed with a message. It was from Afsana. It read: let’s go for coffee after this.
Sure, he responded via message. In his mind, Shanay was smiling. After all, the news did affect her.
The two went to a café close to Afsana’s place. She had been living alone in this apartment for the last two years. It had started off as her work studio, but eventually became her abode as well. With work as her cushion, loneliness seemed cosy. Monday to Friday she was at her three-bedroom apartment in South City but she spent her weekends in her house at Salt Lake.
‘I love the coffee here,’ Shanay said.
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ she asked, direct as ever.
‘Tell you what?’
Afsana studied his face for a few seconds and then ask
ed, ‘Are you marrying yourself?’ She knew she was being unpardonably rude, but she didn’t want to go about it in any other way.
‘What?’
‘If you were marrying yourself then you have the right to take a decision alone. Since you and I both are getting married, don’t you think that before anything goes to our parents, you should bounce it off me once?’
The waiter came to them and Shanay ordered.
‘I’ll have an Irish coffee. And you?’
‘Black coffee without sugar.’
Shanay glanced at the waiter. He noted their order and left. There was only one other couple in the café. An English song was playing softly in the background.
‘Do you think you’ve told me everything?’ Shanay said, looking piercingly at her. He wanted her to interpret the look as an accusation.
‘I’ve told you whatever you should know about me,’ Afsana said without giving out an inkling of the whirlpool beneath the placid surface.
‘And who decides what this “whatever” is? You?’ Shanay leaned back a little.
‘Can you please tell me straight up what’s on your mind? This is the first time I’m seeing you beating around the bush,’ Afsana said leaning forward truculently.
Shanay leaned forward as well and asked, ‘All right, let’s get to the point. Who is Nirmaan Bose?’
Afsana wasn’t ready for this. She changed her posture, wondering, I wish I could tell you who he is and what he means to me. His steady gaze never left her face. She knew that the more the time she took to respond, the wider the window of opportunity she was giving him to jump to whatever conclusion he wished to.
‘You seem to be lost,’ Shanay accused, with a condescending smirk. He brought out his phone and tapped on a picture in his photo gallery. He turned his phone to her and said, ‘The name didn’t ring a bell, it seems. Hopefully this will.’ Her picture with Nirmaan was in front of her. She took his phone in her hand with a look of disbelief.
‘How did you get this?’ she asked, still staring at the picture.
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