The Reluctant Matchmaker

by Shobhan Bantwal

I looked almost as tall as my cousin. My face glowed.

  “Thanks, Amrita. I’m glad you showed up.”

  Amrita stood back and studied me. “You look beautiful. I think this Ajit guy is going to start drooling.”

  I sighed at the thought of Ajit. “I hope not.”

  “Why would you say that?” It took Amrita a moment to comprehend my words. “Oh ... It’s Nayak.”

  I shrugged and adjusted my chunni.

  Amrita’s eyes narrowed. “Is Ajit an instrument to make Prajay jealous?”

  Clever girl. She’d figured it out in a split second. But then she’d had an almost perfect score on her SATs. “I’m not saying anything.” I picked up my black-and-silver clutch.

  Clucking like a mother hen, Amrita put her hands on her hips. “You better be careful when you start playing games like that with your dates, Meena.”

  “I’ll try to be careful, Mother dear,” I replied.

  Amrita looked at the bedside clock. “What time are you leaving?”

  “Ajit is supposed to pick me up around six.”

  “It’s nearly that now.”

  She followed me down the stairs, and we went into the family room where I could keep my eye on the driveway. It was easier to let Amrita keep chattering about the newsletter than to carry on a conversation.

  The prospect of meeting Prajay’s new flame was giving me a mild headache. What Amrita had cautioned me about was bugging me, too. She was right, the wise little devil. I was playing dangerous games. Never having done this sort of thing before, I doubted if I was capable of dealing with the fallout.

  Several minutes later, Ajit arrived. He looked good in black slacks, crisp white shirt, and a sports jacket. Under ordinary circumstances his brilliant smile should have made my heart flutter. These were no ordinary circumstances.

  Amrita was right behind me, so I introduced Ajit to her. “Ajit, meet my cousin, Amrita.”

  They shook hands. “Nice to meet you,” Amrita murmured.

  I could have sworn she was blushing. The roses in her cheeks looked pinker.

  “Likewise,” said Ajit, and he gave her his most charming smile. “Are you the cousin that’s in med school?”

  “Yes.” Amrita’s blush deepened, rose turning to hot pink, making me wonder why she was so discombobulated at meeting someone as easygoing as Ajit.

  “So how do you like med school?” Ajit put his hands in his pockets and tilted his head to one side, a gesture I’d come to realize meant he was paying close attention.

  “Work, work, and more work,” said Amrita with a resigned smile.

  “I’m sure you’ll survive.” Ajit blinked a couple of times.

  “Thank you.” Amrita’s voice was low and demure.

  Mom and Dad stepped into the entry foyer to greet Ajit, and they started up a conversation.

  After a minute of polite talk, Ajit and I left. Ajit turned to me as he started up the car. “You look fantastic this evening.”

  “Thanks. You look good yourself. I like your jacket.”

  “What, this old thing?” We both laughed at the cliché. As he pulled out of the driveway, he asked, “Is Amrita your cousin on your father’s side or mother’s?”

  “Mother’s.” I glanced at him. “Why?”

  “No reason,” he said. “There isn’t much resemblance between you two.”

  “None of the cousins look anything alike. Even my brothers are so different from each other, you’d never know they were siblings. Maneel is average height and weight, but Mahesh is tall and skinny. I’m the little runt in the middle, fairer in complexion and spunkier than those two.”

  Ajit laughed at my words, but didn’t comment. We drove mostly in silence. Ajit seemed to be deep in thought. I glanced at him once or twice to see if I had inadvertently said something to offend him, but it didn’t seem that way. He appeared to be thinking. Maybe he had other things on his mind.

  The party was just getting started when we got to Akbar restaurant in Edison. What caught my eye as we stepped into the banquet hall was the delightful Christmas-Diwali display.

  On a round table was a lovely golden statue of the goddess Lakshmi, resplendent in a red and gold sari as she posed imperiously inside a giant lotus blossom. She was surrounded by brass oil lamps. Next to her sat a miniature Christmas tree, about the same height as the goddess, beautifully decorated in red and gold ornaments and miniature lights.

  A perfect Chri-wali exhibit. East meets West.

  For a minute, Ajit and I marveled over the themes of Hinduism and Christianity blending in such seamless harmony. It was such a lovely sentiment.

  The rest of the large banquet hall was set up with several round tables and a polished wood floor in the center for dancing. A DJ was already at his post at the far end of the floor. Hindi movie music played softly in the background. About twenty or more people were scattered around the room, talking.

  With my luck, Gargi Bansal was the first person we ran into. I had a feeling she’d seen us and deliberately decided to bump into us. Dressed in a silvery salwar-kameez, she put on a disarming smile, most likely for Ajit’s benefit. “Hi, Meena.”

  “Hi, Gargi.” Loath to seem ill-mannered, I introduced her to Ajit. Mercifully, a minute later we moved forward to chat with others.

  I introduced Ajit to some other folks. My big surprise came when Deepak Iyer stopped by and wished us happy holidays. From the look in his eyes he’d already had a drink or two. But whatever it was that was making him amiable, I was grateful. I didn’t want a scene with someone I’d dated once. He was even courteous to Ajit, despite knowing Ajit was my date for the evening.

  A little later we saw Nishant, who, as always, had on a loud print shirt and khakis. He pumped Ajit’s hand with great enthusiasm when I introduced the two. “Nice to meet you, Ajit. Stockbroker, huh? I got to talk to you, man. See, here’s the thing ...” He looked around cautiously and took Ajit aside to a safe, quiet corner and started whispering. Their heads were close together. I could see Ajit paying careful attention.

  While I waited for Nishant and Ajit to finish their conversation, I felt a tap on my shoulder. Turning around, I came face-to-face with Prajay. My mouth turned dry. He was dressed in a dark suit and snow-white shirt—not a hair out of place. He looked bigger than usual, maybe because all the short guys in the company happened to be around us.

  “Hi, Meena.” His smile was warm and ... platonic.

  “Hi.” I wasn’t sure if I’d succeeded in covering up my breathlessness. My tongue was tied up in knots.

  “Good to see you,” he said.

  “Hmm.” My tongue was untied, but still felt stiff. “How ... have you been?”

  “Very busy. I’ve been working fourteen-hour days on a new project.” He shrugged. “Other than that, doing fine.” He studied me intently for a second, sending the blood soaring into my face. “I see you’re doing brilliantly. Lovely as always.”

  I cast my eyes downward. “I don’t know about brilliantly, but I’m okay. I’m busy, too.”

  “Paul says you’re doing great. But I meant you’re looking wonderful.” His eyes had a speculative look. “I’ve never seen you in Indian clothes.”

  “Thanks. You’re looking well yourself. Fourteen-hour workdays must suit you.”

  “Hard work has its pros, especially if you enjoy it.” He inclined his head toward the bar. “Shouldn’t you be drinking something, enjoying the party?”

  “I will, as soon as my date finishes talking to Nishant,” I said, glancing at the two men still deep in conversation.

  “Ah, you brought a date.” His bushy eyebrows lifted a notch. “Is that ... uh ... the guy you mentioned the other day?”

  I nodded. “Ajit Baliga.” I let my eyes rove over the room for a spectacularly tall woman. I didn’t see any. “So where’s your date? I assumed Alpana would be here this evening.”

  “Archana.”

  “So where is Archana? I was hoping to meet her. After all, I’ve played a smal
l part in your meeting her. I—”

  “She’s not here.”

  “Why not? Aren’t you two engaged, or at least going steady by now?” I wished I could keep the acid out of my voice, but it was hard under the circumstances—what with my skin tingling from his nearness and my heartbeat thundering in my chest.

  “No, we’re not engaged. She’s ... well ... It’s a long story. I’ll tell you some other time.”

  He looked uncomfortable, making me wonder what was going on between him and the beanpole. A tiny spark of optimism went off in my brain, but died just as quickly. There were other women on that list. He’d go on to the next, and the next, until he found the right one. I’d never be in the running.

  Just then Ajit returned to my side, and I made the introductions. The men shook hands, both seemingly cordial. If I’d been hoping for animosity or a hint of jealousy on Prajay’s part, I saw none. Naturally Ajit had no reason to dislike Prajay.

  “You look familiar, Ajit,” said Prajay with a puzzled look. “When Meena mentioned your name the other day, I told her it rang a bell. Have we met before?”

  Ajit shook his head. “We may have. In our community that’s not impossible. I wouldn’t be surprised if we’re related.” A second later, he snapped his fingers. “Wait. Did you by any chance attend any of the New England area summer camps in your high school days?”

  “I was a youth counselor at one in Connecticut in my junior year in high school.” Prajay paused a moment. “I was trying to build up my resume for my college applications.”

  “That’s where we met. I attended the camp two years in a row.”

  Prajay’s brow creased. “You were a counselor?”

  “Not a counselor, but a camper. I think you were our youth counselor during my first summer. I remember an exceptionally tall Konkani guy who taught us soccer. I couldn’t remember the name, though.”

  “Ah ... yes. That’s why you look so familiar—but I couldn’t place you. You were only a kid.” Prajay gave himself a moment to recall some facts. “You were the guy who played the guitar?”

  “That’s me. I played that for a couple of years. Then I moved on to drums. By the way, I think your parents and mine are acquaintances.”

  Prajay laughed. “I bet they are. Like you said, we may even turn out to be distant cousins.” He ushered both of us toward the bar. “Let’s all get something to drink, shall we?”

  After I got a glass of chardonnay and Ajit got himself some shiraz, we found a table. I was hoping Prajay could join us, but he couldn’t. As the co-host he had to mingle with all the guests. These were all his people; this was his world.

  Pinky and her husband joined us, necessitating further introductions. While Ajit and I talked to them and several other people who wandered over to sit at our table, my eyes followed Prajay around the room. The crowd had swelled in the past twenty minutes, and it was harder to seek him out, despite his height.

  Meanwhile, waiters were bringing around trays of hot and cold appetizers. The food was delicious. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was until I smelled the meat and vegetable samosas. Deep-fried turnovers.

  Paul and Jeremy stopped at our table for a chat. As usual Jeremy looked like he had stepped out of a page from GQ. His suit fit him like a dream.

  After the two guys moved away, Ajit whispered to me, “Do I detect a special relationship between those two guys?”

  “Very special.” I didn’t care to elaborate. I didn’t want the others to think Ajit and I were whispering and behaving like lovesick adolescents.

  Ajit, being an easygoing, friendly sort, got along well with the folks at our table. The good thing about working for a software company was that most everyone was young. We had plenty to talk about.

  I must have been unusually quiet, because Ajit asked me, “Are you all right? You seem preoccupied.”

  “I’m fine. I guess the wine is going to my head.”

  “The wine or the host?” His eyes were looking directly into mine.

  I stilled. “What do you mean?”

  “Nothing.” He gestured toward the dance floor. “How about a little dancing? You can get rid of the wine buzz—dance it off.”

  The DJ had just announced that the dance floor was open, and several couples were already shaking their bodies enthusiastically to Bhangra music. “Why not?” Ajit was right. Maybe I could dance some of that frustration off, if not the wine buzz.

  Ajit took off his jacket and placed it on the back of his chair, then led me to the dance floor. I was in for a mild surprise. Come to think of it, not so mild. He turned out to be a great dancer, full of life. Other people were watching him with interest.

  It was nice to have a spirited partner, but it also put the spotlight on me. I loved dancing, too, so it was a lot of fun. I unabashedly copied the bold but graceful moves Ajit was making.

  I was discovering a lot of things about my date—first the guitar and drums, and now the skilled dancing. The guy had talent.

  At one point, the rest of the dancers stopped and formed a circle around us, clapping to the sound of the latest Hindi movie song, pressing us to keep moving. For several minutes Ajit and I danced in sync. We made quite a team.

  The mad, exotic, pulsating rhythm was both mind-numbing and exhilarating at the same time. I wasn’t sure if it was the music, or the wine, or my super-talented partner that did it, but my body was on fire, almost on an erotic high. I felt like I could dance away the whole evening.

  When it ended, Ajit stunned me by hoisting me up in his arms. He twirled me around once and put me back on my feet, leaving me breathless and giggling. Then he took my hand and forced me to take a low, theatrical bow alongside him. In the next instant he threw his arms around me and kissed my forehead, much to the crowd’s delight. They whistled and stomped. The applause continued for several seconds.

  Just like that, Ajit went from being my date to being the life of the party.

  And when I finally found a moment to look around to check out our audience, I saw Prajay standing on the outer edge of the circle, arms folded across his middle, staring intensely at Ajit and me.

  Chapter 30

  A midst a lot of cheering and compliments on our dance routine, Ajit and I pushed through the circle of spectators and walked back to our table. We were both out of breath. Ajit had sweat running down his face, and he grabbed several paper napkins to wipe it off.

  Fortunately I didn’t perspire as much, so a simple dabbing with a napkin was enough. Our table was empty, since our table-mates had been watching us dance and were now off somewhere.

  I excused myself and hurried to the ladies’ room to fix my face and hair. I saw Ajit heading toward the men’s room.

  A couple of other women were in the ladies’ room, but I didn’t know them very well, so I merely smiled and said hello. Just as I emerged from one of the stalls, I once again ran into Gargi. This time I knew she’d followed me.

  “Fabulous dancing, Meena,” she commented wryly. “I didn’t know you were a regular Aishwarya.” She was referring to the highly popular Bollywood movie star known for her exotic looks and dancing talent.

  “Thanks.” I started rummaging through my purse for my lipstick.

  “Your boyfriend is quite a dancer, too,” she said before disappearing into one of the stalls.

  While Gargi took care of business, I quickly applied my lipstick, combed my hair, and rushed out. That woman set my teeth on edge, and I was in no mood to spar with her this evening. I had enough problems keeping my equilibrium around Prajay.

  And what was that dark expression on Prajay’s face earlier? I would have expected him to be smiling and clapping like the others while watching Ajit and me dancing.

  We had made his party go from ho-hum to lively, and people were having a good time. Instead of being happy he’d looked like he was ticked off about something. Had he just received bad news? Or did he think our dancing was a bit too rowdy for a stuffy software company?

  When I re
turned to the table I found Ajit back in his seat, his face dry and his hair neat. “Wasn’t that a terrific workout?” he asked with a grin.

  “I think I lost five pounds.” I sat down and gulped down half a glass of water.

  The rest of the folks at our table returned one by one with fresh drinks and appetizers, all of them excitedly congratulating us on our performance.

  Pinky gave my shoulder a playful smack. “Hey, girl, I didn’t know you could dance like that.”

  “I didn’t know I could, either,” I said. “It’s my partner who got me started.”

  The dancing continued, and Ajit and I joined the crowd. We didn’t do any repeats of the earlier exhibition dancing, but it was fun nonetheless. When the sumptuous buffet dinner was served, the DJ went back to playing slow, sentimental numbers.

  Prajay and Nishant stopped by our table once to play the good hosts by inquiring about the quality of the food and drinks. They did some backslapping and general kidding with the guys. Prajay didn’t say one word to me.

  My heart ached, but I tried to keep a smile on my face by telling myself it was the holiday season. Time to be jolly. Ajit was turning out to be a popular guy, and that should have been enough to make me happy. Who wouldn’t want to be seen with a guy all the other girls were eyeing with interest? And yet, I was hurting.

  Thank goodness Archana hadn’t shown. If she had, my heart would’ve been bleeding.

  Sometime after dinner, I felt exhausted, and my ankle was beginning to feel a twinge or two, so I asked Ajit to find himself other dance partners. He was so full of bubbly energy that I didn’t want to put a damper on it. “I had a sprained ankle not too long ago, and it’s beginning to bother me a little. Why don’t you ask one of those lovely girls to dance?” I suggested.

  “Are you sure?” he said, eyeing my foot with genuine concern.

  “I’m sure. Look at all those girls who’ve been casting melting glances at you.”

  He laughed. “No one’s ever melted from looking at me, but it sounds romantic.” Then he turned serious and whispered close to my ear, “I know it’s none of my business, but what’s going on with you and Prajay Nayak?”