– AISHA –
Friday, 25 August
Aisha’s Journal
The days I feel bad about myself, which have started becoming more and more, I play up my mood spending ten minutes smiling in the mirror every morning. Ruhi is being a gem about the dress and says I ’m growing as a person, my personality is getting bigger
, and obviously I needed bigger dresses to fill, not those measly little clones of dresses I and every other girl at a party would
wear. I liked the thought of that. Tiny dresses, too small to contain me. Then why does growing bigger make me feel so small…
‘Hey, I’ve never seen you writing before,’ Tejas said, leaning over Ruhi’s empty seat in the aircraft. She had gone to stretch her legs. Tejas looked suitably stubbled and groggy for the 6
a.m. flight we were on.
‘It’s a journal. I used to write on and off, I’ve become regular at it now. Do you journal?’
‘All the time. I lost mine yesterday though. Don’t let that happen,’ he said, shaking his head.
‘Maybe you left it in the office.’
‘I texted Ruhi, it’s not there. What are you writing?’
‘You know journals are private.’
‘Ah, I see. Who you writing about, in that case?’ Tejas said.
‘You. And how you’re turning my sweet friend into a vampire.’
‘It’s just dark circles, and not just because of me,’ Tejas said.
‘Maybe a change of approach is required, so, um, Ruhi feels a little more “relaxed” in life?’ I said.
‘You’re paying quite a bit of attention to what I’m not doing.’
Tejas said. He shifted from the aisle to the centre seat. ‘I am flattered. It was only a matter of time.’
I wasn’t sure if Tejas was mocking me or flirting with me. I couldn’t help but wonder. Maybe in another life.
‘Hey, I know you and Ruhi are tight. I wanted your advice on—’
‘This flight is so crowded.’ Ruhi was back. ‘Everybody wanted to pee together.’
‘I changed seats. I hope you don’t mind?’ Tejas told her. ‘I had some questions for Aisha. Here is your orange juice.’
‘Sure,’ Ruhi said. She was on a roll. Five minutes away from Farah, she had turned into a female version of Tejas. Cut-off jeans, lots of kajal, a skimpy black spaghetti, she was like a wild child. She was talking to the guys in the aisle next to her, laughing and giggling.
‘She’s just having fun,’ Tejas said, an amused expression on his face. ‘Rebel without a cause.’
‘That’s Delhi’s darlingest editor and talented publisher, needing approval from guys, our Ruhi Singh. Who knew?’
‘I don’t think she had a lot of such attention growing up,’ Tejas said. ‘Unlike some people.’
‘What are your questions? You wanted some advice?’ I said before he could elaborate. I don’t know why he made me uncomfortable.
That was the last thing I needed to be; I’d dated guys more attractive than him.
‘I think Ruhi is too serious,’ Tejas said.
We glanced at her, her hand in a Bhutanese guy’s hand, some game they were playing. Reading palms or something.
‘Hmm.’
‘I mean serious about me. Too serious. I’m not a commitment-phobe like every guy in a Hindi movie. But I mean, I can’t even disagree with her about anything without fearing she’ll change her mind, just for my sake.’
‘I didn’t want to say anything, but I agree. I think this behaviour is actually healthy,’ I said, pointing at her.
‘Interacting with guys outside her circle. Maybe you could slow down, or take a break – only if you think so, though. I know things are tough with her at home. She is relying on you so much for emotional support, she may get to a point where she can’t make a personal decision on her own.’
‘Yes, maybe you’re right. Let’s keep this conversation between ourselves, okay?’
‘Of course,’ I told him. Tejas soon fell asleep, drooling on Ruhi’s shoulder.
Ruhi was having a blast away from her mother, hardly anxious at all, and I didn’t want to spoil her fun. Nor did I want her to do anything stupid. I was going to discuss sex with Ruhi. She was so emotionally fragile. The worst thing that could happen was her actually deciding to take my advice of being with Tejas physically on this trip.
Right when I fell asleep, Tejas elbowed me sharply.
‘Ow. What?’
‘Wake up. Look, its Kangana Ranaut. Ruhi spotted her. She’s sitting two rows behind us in the opposite aisle.’
I walked to the loo. There was an air hostess serving a passenger in front of me, so I got a good look at her. How thin she looked.
Her waist couldn’t be more than twenty inches and her thighs were as thin as my arms. Tejas was standing behind me, also curious to see her.
It wasn’t as if I wanted him to look at me, but I was used to the eyes and attention of everyone around to be on me. A knot in my stomach began to tighten. I made my way to the loo and threw up my breakfast. When I went back to my seat, I didn’t feel like making conversation with either of them and sat with my eyes shut, pretending to sleep.
Three cups of coffee and two glasses of water later, I was all wired up in the bag collection line. I told Tejas and Ruhi about the plans I had for Litracy and my blog for the weekend.
On returning from the loo, while Ruhi and Tejas waited for the bags, I did my best not to spend too much time thinking how much like a movie star – tall, thin and beautiful – I’d been only two months ago. On my trip back from the loo, a group of local students walked past me. All the girls wore midriff-baring blouses with fitted high-waist jeans. I felt unkempt in my tracks and loose white t-shirt which said I Woke Up Like This, something I loved when I bought it.
Back in line, everywhere I looked, I saw young foreign girls and women, looking svelte and completely at ease with themselves and way better than me.
‘Ruhi, something’s wrong.’ I grabbed her shoulder. ‘I’m dizzy.’
‘What? No, hang on. Tejas. Tejas. Aisha’s going to faint.’
Each grabbed a shoulder while I collapsed on my knees.
I woke up to splashes of water.
‘You okay?’ Tejas said.
‘Yes. Now I am.’
‘Come, we’ll sit down. They’ll call us when we’re up for immigration,’ Ruhi said, linking her arm with mine.
Attendants at the airport helped me to a seat and offered me juice and fruits, fawning over me, till Ruhi thanked them and sent them away.
‘Have water to start with. And here, eat this.’ She gave me a piece of chocolate.
The warmth of the chocolate enveloped me like a blanket. I didn’t say a word in the taxi from the airport to the hotel.
9
A Lady Doesn’t Kiss and Tell
– RUHI –
Friday, 25 August
To Do:
Create a WhatsApp group for 3 of us & F & Ani Connect to litfest official wi-fi
Make sure T’s notes are in order
Keep business cards
‘This won’t do, Aisha,’ Tejas said, setting down the big binder Farah had me carrying with us.
‘We’ve spent the whole day without you.’
‘I thought that was what you wanted,’ Aisha told me with a biting smile. I ignored that.
We were in the hotel room, back after an exciting first day at the Mountain Echoes litfest. We’d walked around the city and seen most of it in two hours.
Literary superstars were overflowing onto Thimphu’s high street, called Norzin Lam, from cafes and eateries. In nearby restaurants, we saw foreigners sweating from spicy emadashi , and a famously reclusive writer clicking selfies with the local men and women in traditional garb. I lost Tejas for about an hour when I stopped to talk to a young poet buying handicrafts.
I knew most of the people sitting on the steps by the clock tower on the lower side of Norzin Lam. I took the time to catch up w
ith familiar faces. Publishing in India was a close-knit community.
Competitive, but cooperative. It was a relaxed atmosphere, everyone was taking in the city, sitting in the sun, planning their events and going over last-minute changes. I had a bundle of business cards with me by 5 p.m. when we were to meet Pema, our local contact, at a cafe close by.
‘Aisha, you wanted to rest, now let’s get ready,’ I said. ‘Pema was so excited to see Tejas; she took us for coffee and has an awesome night planned for the three of us. You’ll love her. She said we can work out a slot where I get to talk about my vision of publishing. Can you believe that? I will be addressing everyone, it’s like a jumpstart to everything.’
‘Yes, Ruhi almost forgot to go over my book reading’s details with her,’ Tejas said.
‘Good for you,’ Aisha muttered, sombrely looking out the window.
This wasn’t her. The last time Aisha had fainted like this was at Tejas’s book launch. It had been the three of us then as well. I honestly couldn’t figure out what she was on about. She was in a
simple white t-shirt, black pants and white trainers. The highlights in her hair caught the sun, and were in a messy bun on top of her head behind her sunglasses. Her skin was healthy, and yes her face had filled in but she looked attractive, more comfortable and healthy now – no uptightness – or maybe that was in my head. When she smiled, none of it even mattered. One of Litracy’s designers was still too shy to talk to her directly.
She could light up a room with her persona, yet she wasn’t even grateful for it. She was caught up with something that was a figment of the past. It was hard not to be envious and a little angry.
Tejas hadn’t caught on yet. And then he did. He’d picked up a sealed packet of peanuts lying on the coffee table.
‘Hang on, you didn’t eat anything?’ Tejas said, standing in the balcony opening a new pack of cigarettes.
‘I didn’t feel like it,’ Aisha said.
‘Oh. OH,’ he said.
I sat down next to Aisha, who was glaring at him.
‘You have to eat something,’ I told her.
‘No one cares how you look, Aisha,’ Tejas said, leaning inwards from the balcony, cigarette in hand.
‘Easy for you to say. You don’t have two thousand followers threatening to ditch you every time you gain a few grams!’ Aisha said.
‘Like you wouldn’t believe. Smoke?’ he said.
‘Tejas! Don’t ask her to smoke,’ I said.
‘Whatever makes her feel better,’ he said. He put out his cigarette and went and sat down on the table opposite us. ‘What will make you feel better?’
‘Nothing.’
‘How about more chocolate? Look at this, Tejas got the whole thing,’ I said, pushing a giant Dairy Milk towards her.
‘Aisha. I have fans too. You can’t give in to what they think.
Who are they to decide what you put in your body?’ Tejas said.
‘Why do you give them that power?’
‘It’s not just them, it’s everything,’ Aisha said. ‘Nobody pays attention to me anymore. Or looks at me.’
‘That’s just not true. Ruhi, tell her, doesn’t she look better now? With a bit of meat on your bones, you have more energy and
are a lot more fun than before. ‘Coz we can eat out and drink with you. Nothing else matters, right?’ Tejas said.
‘Totally, Aisha. People are in awe of you, not your body weight.
Pema is dying to meet you. Even Farah thinks well of you. And she hates everyone .’
‘I haven’t faced my friends in two months,’ Aisha said.
‘We shouldn’t have to tell you this, but if they’re the kind who’ll judge you for taking care of yourself, they’re no friends of yours,’ Tejas said.
‘And what do you think we are?’ I said. ‘Your fans? We haven’t unliked you on Facebook or stopped talking to you for such a silly little thing.’
‘It’s not a silly little thing, Ruhi,’ Aisha said, her eyes burning through me. ‘We all have our sore spots.’
Tejas put his hand on my shoulder. ‘We’re here to enjoy the litfest and promote Litracy,’ he said. ‘And as a proud parent of a book, I declare: there is no better way to do that than to get out there and get drunk.’
‘You guys go ahead,’ Aisha said. ‘I’m fine here.’
‘Hey. It is tough for you. No one is denying that. Why don’t you take the good with the bad and come out with us anyway,’ I said.
‘The good with the bad,’ Aisha repeated. ‘I’ve heard that before I think.’
‘And you can shop, buy something new! And we’ll take pictures of you in it,’ I added. ‘Get a kira !’
‘Sure thing,’ Tejas said. ’You aren’t gonna sit here and not eat all weekend, are you? You won’t be starving yourself to death, we all know that. We’re slaying this demon right now.’ He picked up the phone, calling room service. ‘Club sandwich? Chicken. Three please.’
‘I’m sorry I keep doing this to you guys,’ Aisha said.
‘No need to apologise. Just eat,’ I said.
‘And eat more. And then a little,’ Tejas said.
‘I’m only coming because I have a lot of posts lined up,’ Aisha said, breaking a piece of the chocolate.
‘And not because you’re here for me,’ Tejas said.
‘Your book. Not you,’ Aisha said.
Tejas lit another cigarette.
‘Only you could go to a book festival and come back with a chocolate,’ Aisha said.
‘What can I say. It’s my drug of choice here,’ Tejas said. ‘I’m nervous too.’
Friday, 25 August
To Do:
Make notes for own speech
Make the decision
‘How many books have you brought along?’ Aisha asked me, piling all five on my nightstand.
They were comfort reading: Harry Potter, Jeffrey Archer, some poetry, PG Wodehouse and a Murakami.
‘And a Kindle?’
‘You never know where and when a bit of time will free up.’ I looked at Aisha’s reading for the weekend – just the magazine she’d taken from the flight.
I zipped up my bag before Aisha spotted Tejas’s journal peeping out. I’d found it in the office and nicked it. It was the first time I had ever done anything like this.
Tejas had been reticent all day, behaving professionally, too professionally, like there was some distance between us. Good thing I had other things to think about and keep my mood light. I could always browse through his journal later to find out what was in his head. And there were always other things I could do to get close.
‘You wouldn’t be able to read all of this even if you stayed in the hotel room all weekend.’
‘What about your extensive makeup collection?’ I pointed at her two vanity kits. ‘You have as much makeup as you do clothes.’
‘That’s different. I use it everyday, sometimes twice a day. And it’s not just for me, but for both of us and my blog.’
‘There, all done.’
I’d hung all our formals and organised the rest of the clothes according to sets. I also put the lingerie in drawers and lined up our shoes according to event.
‘Wow Ruhi, you should become a professional cupboard organiser.
You know they have them in Japan, people who teach how to keep stuff in drawers and the like.’
‘It calms me.’
‘I’m done with the toilet kits,’ Aisha said.
‘But you haven’t even opened them.’
‘Let’s not waste time. We have toothbrushes from the hotel and we’ll do the rest as we go along. Besides, I wanted to talk to you about something.’
‘What? About Tejas?’
‘Yes.’
‘I was going to tell you, I’m thinking of going ahead with it.
The deed.’
I pointed at the lingerie set I’d bought the day I went out shopping with her. ‘And I’ll need the thing you were giving me at that shop.’
‘It’s too soon. I don’t think you’re ready.’
‘Maybe I am.’
‘Ruhi, is it possible that this may not be the right time for you to do what you’re thinking? Plus now that he’s here, all his and your emotions will be riled up with his event and it may not be the best time for you to be intimate.’
‘I don’t know when I’ll be away from my mother again. You said you were on my side.’
‘I am.’ Aisha put her arm around me. ‘And this isn’t about your mother, it’s about you. You know me, I know guys and my instinct says this isn’t the right time, and maybe isn’t even the right person for you, Ruhi. But if you think this is what you really want, then you shouldn’t listen to me. It shouldn’t matter what I’m saying and it shouldn’t make you this upset.’
‘I’m not upset, I’m just … all this is very new for me. I won’t know how to do anything. I had to google what to do. How to put on a you-know-what. Everyone’s first time is emotional, right?’
‘Not in the way you think,’ Aisha sighed. ‘They’re in the little pink pouch with the sanitary pads.’
I went to the loo, opened the pouch but closed it. It was all too freaky.
‘I don’t remember what I was wearing the time I lost it.’ Aisha was looking at the pearly white bra and panty set, still in its packaging. ‘It won’t be that bad, Ruhi, and not amazing either.
But, just go with the flow.’
‘How old were you?’
‘A lady doesn’t kiss and tell.’
‘Ha! Some lady.’
‘Who’s being catty now? And I won’t be looking like a lady this weekend. All I have are tight bras. I didn’t end up buying new ones. And you are so not wearing that.’
She was pointing at my black shirt and black pants.
‘You told me to buy the blouse.’
‘For office, in Delhi. Not this place. And certainly not dinner.
Here, I’d kept this just in case.’ She gave me a light-pink full-sleeved tunic dress I’d just hung.
‘Pink?’
‘It has a slit down the middle. Wear pants and take a shawl. Show me your shoes.’
I had a pair of sensible gold sandals. Flats.
‘Gladiators, perfect.’
‘What will you wear?’
‘I have a black dress that looks better on me than this one.’
Adulting Page 6