I walked into ‘Ink Station’ which was always crowded, populated by teenagers. It was open till the late hours, probably expecting a half crazed woman to want something wild in the middle of the night. But tonight it was quiet. There was a woman and the owner who were sitting in a corner talking away and I suddenly felt as if I was intruding upon their private life. I quickly turned around, ready to leave, when the woman called out, ‘Hey!’
I turned around and smiled, ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t want to intrude.’ The woman got up and so did the man. The man moved towards the booth and the woman came up to me, ‘Don’t be funny. We run a business here!’ she smiled. I smiled back. ‘So how can I help you?’
‘I wanted to get a tattoo, if it’s not too much trouble.’ She showed me a few designs from a book she had and then got me a cup of cappuccino and some cookies. We discussed what I should get. She started chatting with me about the man she was talking to and then got me to open up a little about my life. I told her I got the idea from an old boyfriend who had wanted a tattoo of Gaudi’s sun a long time back.
And then I revealed myself to a total stranger. I told her who I was. Something no one ever knew and something I had kept hidden for a long time. I told her I was a woman who believed in Love. Not with one man. But with the concept that it existed, and that it was strong and powerful. I was a woman who believed in travelling the world and experiencing Love in its myriad ways. What I wanted from my life was a fusion of art, languages, men and the independence that defined Love. She got exactly what I was saying and gave me a tattoo on my wrist, a place where I could see it everyday and remember that I had come a long way. It was a painful experience that left me overjoyed and completely satisfied. Somewhat like my ‘first time’ with Arjun. Very symbolic and beautiful. I missed him and yet that night, I could happily let him go. I had changed. I had evolved. I knew that the tattoo symbolized me.
And that’s how I landed myself with a tattoo that I thought I would never get. A piece of art that was truly me.
Forty-two
I was craving a hot cup of coffee again, like I had a year and a half ago. My God. I had really changed since that day.
I had been in New York for six months and had settled down in my new life really well. My job was keeping me busy and even though the pay was just enough to get me through, my research kept me alive. I had made friends and found new places to hang out in.
And then the connection that I had wanted for so long came. He emailed me to say he was in New York and he wanted to meet me. I had sat on my bed, in my studio apartment that overlooked a row of shops below. I had read the mail thrice. It said ‘Hi. I’m in New York. I heard you are here too. Can we meet? I’ve missed you.’ It was basic. I replied, and now was sitting at this coffee place instead of inviting him over to my place since I knew we weren’t ‘there’.
He was walking through the door of Bean, my favourite coffee joint in New York, right now. He looked just as bit handsome as when I had met him not so long ago, in that shack, with the sun against him and a bronzed body that made me know he would always be my ‘Great Love’. I got up to kiss him on the cheek.
‘Hi, Kaveri,’ he said gently, as he kissed me and sat down. Arjun had matured. He had become a father and his gentle way showed. He seemed very different to me. Even though I had known this man better than anyone else, right now, I felt he was a complete stranger.
‘Hi, Arjun. What can I order for you?’ I asked, as I got up to go to the counter, suddenly all nervous and hesitant, as if I was a thirty-year-old virgin again!
‘Nothing. Just sit. We’ll order in a bit … How have you been?’ he was being very tender. At that moment I felt my heart flood with emotions. There were so many memories that I choked. I had rehearsed for many months what I was going to say when we met, I had rewritten my speech about how he had let me down time and and how I had wasted so much of my time with him that my energy was sapped and I had to rebuild myself and that task at that time seemed impossible. I could really go on. But that speech was nowhere in my mind as he looked deep into my eyes as if he knew it all and was most apologetic. For several moments, there were no words between us. We both knew what our past was, and it was as if we were revisiting it looking at each other. As he held my hand over the table, I felt the same tingle return.
As I looked at him closely, I could see how he had greyed a little. His salt and pepper hair at the temples and a few wrinkles near his eyes made him more endearing. He had put on a few pounds around his waist, but he was still a Greek God to me.
‘Let me show you something,’ he said as he pulled up his sleeve and showed me his tattoo. Of a sun. Gaudi’s Sun, which we had discussed on our date in Goa. ‘I got it because it reminded me of you. I wanted something to remind me of you everyday, Kaveri.’ Then he leaned forward and took my hand. ‘I’m so sorry, Kaveri …’
I interrupted him because I didn’t want our conversation to get emotional so fast, so I said, ‘Arjun! Let’s order coffee.’ I motioned with my hand and my favourite waitress came to my table, even though it was a self-service. We ordered and she came back with steaming hot cappuccinos and muffins that Arjun had ordered. It was cold outside. Winter was harsh in this city. I could see outside the window that people were wearing their long black coats and designer boots while trying to brace themselves from the windchill factor. After living in this city for six months, I realized that most people in New York understood how to mesh fashion with comfort. They could run in six-inch heels while trying to catch a train with three shopping bags and a thin Chanel scarf to keep warm! Their basic colour was black and their basic dress size was 2. I soon learnt how to make myself a New Yorker so that I would fit right in. I had begun wearing heels, summer dresses and short skirts that were all a size 2. And now I was wearing a gorgeous white coat that I had newly purchased from Macy’s. I stood up to take off my coat and Arjun noticed how thin I had become.
‘You’ve lost weight!’ he exclaimed, admiring my figure as I sat down in my dependable jaw-dropping black Herve Lager dress.
I smiled and said, ‘Yes. Well actually, I’ve been craving home food and all this American junk doesn’t suit my body.’
That wasn’t the truth. Once I arrived in New York I had only eaten healthy and I had wanted to explore every bit of the city I could. So I walked everywhere. I would walk into streets that were lined with beautiful trees, lanes that lead to different neighbourhoods, stores that had never-ending floors, museums that were miles long and railway tracks that were artistically woven. I walked and walked till I got tired and would then sit in coffee shops that never closed. I would go back to my small studio apartment, that had the bare minimum furniture, just to take a hot shower and crash till I went walking again. And in between, I did my research and worked and learnt about art, people and cultures. My dream had actually come true. And in the midst of all this, was the man I had wanted back so long ago.
‘I made a mistake, Kaveri. I made a terrible mistake,’ he said after a long pause. I kept quiet. ‘It wasn’t working. It really never had been. I was too torn to do the right thing. I mean, I didn’t want to hurt anyone and, in the process, I hurt everyone.’
I listened patiently. And he continued.
‘Kaveri, I’m all done with the past now. And I’m sorry that it took me so long. But it took this long for me to end everything. And I didn’t want to come to you with half my life. I wanted to come to you to give my whole life. And I’m willing to do whatever you want.’ He stopped to look at me in anticipation.
‘What do you really want from me?’ I asked gently, not knowing how I would react to my Great Love if he proposed.
‘I really want you to come back with me.’ He saw the question in my raised eyebrow and tried to explain. ‘Kaveri, I made a terrible mistake by letting you go.’ He paused and bit his lip. ‘I made a mistake by marrying Maria. And a mistake in sleeping with her that night in Paris. But I don’t regret having a child because I absolutely adore Anish
a.’ His face went soft when he spoke about his child. And I knew he wanted to bring her up since he took out his wallet to show me a picture of his child.
His daughter. He had a daughter. Some rational thoughts began to take over my suspended grey matter.
He continued, ‘That’s her name. Our daughter’s,’ he continued, since I wasn’t speaking, ‘I realized that I wasn’t in love with my wife even before I met you. I had told you that … And it took this long for her to realize as well. I couldn’t do it, Kaveri. I couldn’t be a husband. I’m not the husband type. And that’s why I guess when you asked me to leave my wife and think about marrying you, all the commitment talk made me run away.’ He paused here and said, ‘I want to be committed to you now, Kaveri. Even if it means I need to marry you, I’m okay about that now. But I can’t lose you again. I only have one condition. That we have to live in Mumbai. My child is there and I can’t be away from her. That’s my only thing. And I’m begging you. Please just come back. You can do whatever you want. If you want, you can sit at home, or if you want, you can do research, or work at that agency. I can get you a job with my influence. And we’ll stay wherever you want and you can do up the place whichever way you want. I’ll give you all the money to live a luxurious life. We could start something new together.’ He rambled on in the end and I let him. Then he took a deep breath and waited for me to speak. He had said his part.
That was it. My mind couldn’t really grasp it though. Was that a proposal? Somehow I had kind of pictured it differently.
I looked at the muffin in front of me. It was gooey, hot, chocolatey with macadamia nuts. Just the type I liked. And I was so tempted to just pick up the fork and dig in. Stress had always made me eat. In moments of confusion and distress I had turned to chocolate. But in the last six months I had not been stressed. Even when I was out of money to buy food or when I had got lost wandering and it had become dark, or when my computer had crashed and parts of my research were lost. I had not felt anxious enough to reach for a muffin, or a brownie or a cupcake. I had finally got hold of my emotions long enough to separate stress from hunger. And that’s how I had lost all this weight and was feeling great about myself. So why was I suddenly stressed and craving for this muffin in front of me?
I looked at him and said flatly, ‘I don’t get it.’
‘What don’t you get?’ he said, now trying to convince me from another angle, ‘We belong together. That’s it. Remember how good we were together? Remember our weekend trips to Lonavala and Goa? That was who we were. And we’ll have that back again.’
I remembered. They were nice until he had to make calls every morning and after dinner and text message during the day from everywhere, the beach, outside our hotel room, outside the disco.
‘That could be us forever. We could be on a permanent vacation. WE would be living our dream of being together whenever we want, having mind-blowing sex …’ Oh that was it. He had not been having sex. Or maybe not as good. ‘Look. You complete me. I can’t live without you. I need you to help me sort out my life, my house and my friends. You know everything better than I do. And we’re great together. We have fun. Please say yes.’ He finished. That was the end of his speech. And then he finished his latte and looked up at Becky to order another one. I sipped on mine.
I was playing back his words in my head and a host of visuals side by side of our past. And it all came rushing back. The evenings we had gone out to new places and the weekend trips we had taken out of town, the bike rides we had … From the hotel rooms across the Eastern Express highway to the dhabas dotted along Maharashtra, from the endless nights on Bandra Sea link to early mornings in the Sahayadris. We had had a good time. But it was in the past. And really I hadn’t heard a thing about what I wanted. It was all about him. That I could fulfill his life, he would have this, and he would get that and that I complete ‘him’.
And then it hit me. This was what I had wanted for a long time. But I did not want it anymore. All these images instead of being liberating, happy and loving were seeming claustrophobic, demanding and weary.
‘Arjun, let me show you something.’ I showed him my tattoo. The tattoo of Gaudi’s Sun. Yes, that’s what I had got. Gaudi’s Sun. Alongside a heart and my name in Chinese, the one language I didn’t know yet. It was a tattoo made like a bracelet around my wrist symbolizing art, language and passion, the three things that signified my life. As opposed to Love, Sex and Marriage that signified it two years earlier.
He looked at it completely shocked. But I continued to talk, ‘I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking where did I find the courage to get a tattoo.’
He interrupted me and said, ‘No! I’m thinking we’ve got the same tattoo, Kaveri. It means we’re connected. WE still love each other!’
I smiled and tried to exlplain, ‘No, Arjun. It means that we were connected. You were the Great Love of my life. But Love is far more important than the person. Hence the heart. I got it because I would remember you not as a person but as a symbol of what love should be. I look at the tattoo and remember who I can be. I’m a person who loves art, who loves independence, who believes in breaking the rules of the game, just like Gaudi did. You showed me that. Before I lost myself. But finally, I’ve got it back.’
He looked surprised. He still didn’t get it. So I had to explain. I took his hand very tenderly and tried hard to deliver my new speech. ‘Arjun, you’ll always be the love of my life. I’ll always cherish what I had with you. And I’m so glad that I lost my virginity to you. Because that makes us even more special. But us being together does not make sense. For the simple reason that … I’m not in love with you anymore. That’s not what I want anymore.’
‘But Kaveri, the tattoos … we’re connected … can’t you see that?’ he asked one last time.
‘Yes, darling. I do see it. We’ll always be connected. But we don’t need to be married to be so.’ I heard myself saying things that I would never have imagined. ‘You might have changed to what I wanted a year ago. But I’ve changed from that to a whole new person.’
‘But I can change to what you want now.’ He desperately pleaded.
‘Arjun, we’re different people now. You have a life in Mumbai. I have a life in New York. And I love my life here. I don’t want to compromise. And that might mean I sound like a bitch to you, but it’s not that. I don’t want that life that we spoke about anymore. I don’t want to leave New York. For you or anyone.’
‘But …’ He was trying to hold on to a concept I had let go of. Once upon a time, I had told Aditi I wanted him back on my terms. And here he was, back on my terms, and I didn’t want him. The irony of the situation wasn’t lost on me. And I felt incredibly bad about asking the Universe to give him back to me when I knew I didn’t want him at all.
‘Listen. First of all, you don’t listen! You have always taken charge and presumed what we should do. And I’ve let you because it felt nice to have someone lead the way. But I’ve thought about what I’ve wanted to do and have been doing it for so long now that I can’t have someone else lead the way.’ I paused to take a breath. Explaining things to a man was so difficult. Women would have got it so easily.
Arjun was flabbergasted. He was hurt, I could see. He had thought he would come and whisk me away to a life that I had wanted for so long.
‘Kaveri, I promised you I would come back to you and now you’re telling me you don’t want me? That bloody sucks!’ he said exasperated.
‘I’ve moved on,’ I said softly.
‘Ya I heard that part,’ he said, looking away in anger.
I wanted to say more, that what we had was nice but it was in the past. And it was over. And I didn’t need him anymore. Emotionally, financially, physically, spiritually—I didn’t need him anymore. But I heard myself saying, ‘I hope you are able to find someone who does need you and, more importantly, I hope you are able to realize that you really don’t need anyone to complete you. Our relationship never belonged in the real wor
ld … it belonged in the shadows of the soul. I want to thank you for all that you did for me …’ I said with a pause, weighing every word so as not to offend him. ‘I want you to know that I truly loved you. But I want you to let go. And be happy. For me. And for yourself.’
The fact was that I would always love Arjun. Yes I would. But I knew I could never live with him. I knew what I did not want. I did not want to be a stepmother. When I had to be maternal, it would have to be with my own child. And I didn’t want to go back to Mumbai. I was done with that city for now. I wanted to be here, in a new city, exploring a new land, experiencing new seasons, living independently, even if it meant that I would be alone and, maybe, lonely. I wanted all that and more for myself. Because I was no longer scared. I believed in myself.
I heard myself say in conclusion, ‘We will always be special for each other. Let me be a good memory for you. Let that tattoo inspire you to follow your heart always and not make any more terrible mistakes.’ And then I said the words that I thought I would never say to Arjun, ‘Goodbye, my love.’ He was stunned.
Arjun and I parted sweetly that night. He was half expecting me to call him back to my place for a nightcap one last time. But I didn’t. I didn’t want a sleazy last image of my Great Love. And I knew that the different men in my life were all a little bit of my Great Love. I knew that no man could ever be just that. I wasn’t disillusioned. I was just more confident about Love as a whole. Because I knew that a greater love lay in me.
But it took some time for Arjun to realize this. He emailed me a few times to try and convince me again. But I didn’t reply. I had finished saying what I needed to and moved on. I understood myself now. I might be a nice person, but I might not necessarily do nice things. And that doesn’t make me a rotten person. Just a vulnerable one looking out for myself.
Forty-three
It was my birthday again. I had turned thirty-two today. And I was holding a cup of coffee in my hand. Alone. And I wasn’t at Coffee De. I was looking at Antoni Gaudi’s Sun. I don’t know how and why I needed to see it, but I did. And the culmination of all my research and my memories had led me to this point.
Losing My Virginity and Other Dumb Ideas Page 21