‘I need to talk,’ I said, finally getting her attention away from the shops.
‘Oh, of course, babe, you must be in tatters. Why didn’t you say so before?’
I didn’t actually feel that awful. I just wanted her to eat. We got coffees and sandwiches and sat down.
I had spent last night alone at the hotel crying, but it had become clear to me that I’d dug myself into an emotional pit. My emotions were out of control. That wasn’t me. I wasn’t ready. I could have avoided this drama had I been honest with myself.
Aisha had known all along. She’d tried to warn me.
‘I don’t know what’s happening in my head. He made it clear it’s over. Do I fight with him, ignore him, or be friendly?’ I said.
‘Be yourself. I know that sounds vague but let things play out.
In the meantime, you have me.’
‘I know.’
Aisha was way up in the front while I was in the middle of the plane. The two girls next to me were together and did not want to switch. Aisha was sitting with a couple whom we didn’t want to ask to move either.
I decided I would check on her around lunchtime.
I was about to switch off my phone’s network when my screen flashed. It was a text from Aisha saying Tejas had boarded.
I craned my neck to the right but couldn’t see him. All the better for it.
It was true what I said to Aisha, I did not feel anything, but also that I didn’t know how to act. I had two hours to figure it out. We were still going to be working together, and some things would change.
The plane began its takeoff. I looked for something to read.
Tejas’s Moleskine was with me; I would give it one last perusal before saying I found it in the office.
His handwriting was a bunch of scrawls. I could only catch glimpses of phrases here and there.
…I have to play the perfect bluff … infatuation … stalker levels
… I don’ t want to come off as a tool … besotted with the captivating creature before me drinking coffee … Delhicious, truly…
Hang on. Delhicious was a hashtag Aisha used to describe, well, herself.
Was this … this was about Aisha. He wanted to be with Aisha, not me, that’s why he wouldn’t go all the way. Was she in on this?
Was that why she was so upset when he was with his gushing fans this morning?
My heart was hammering in my chest. As soon as the seatbelt sign was off, I walked to where I could see the top of Aisha’s head.
Our plane had three rows. She was in the middle lane with a couple on her left. On her right, sure enough, there was Tejas.
They were laughing. Tejas’s arm reached across the aisle onto her shoulder.
The worst had happened.
Forget two hours, two months were not enough to prepare for this.
Whenever Aisha or Tejas came over to say hi or go to the loo, I pretended to be sleeping.
When we reached Delhi, I feigned drowsiness and spoke little.
Aisha and Tejas did a superb job of acting.
They got an Uber together. I got into the car my mother sent to pick me up. I spent the journey home tearing out pages from Tejas’s journal till I’d crushed each one into a little ball.
13
Closer
– TEJAS –
Wednesday, 7 September
Since I lost my journal last week, I’ve been writing a satire, a spoof on fairy tales. It’s not a novel, but it’s going really well. I never figured short stories could be my thing. This is promising stuff. I’ll get Ruhi to read it at some point, when I work up the nerve to talk to her.
We were sitting in the corner of a cafe in Hauz Khas together. It had no wi-fi so Ruhi wouldn’t step foot in it.
‘Ruhi is wearing her old clothes everyday.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ I asked Aisha. Today she was wearing jeans a size too tight for her, but looked amazing in them. A simple t-shirt, hair open and blue jeans, yet every eye in the room was on her. I knew for some girls it took work, but for Aisha, it didn’t. Not these days anyway. She was killing it at work and looks.
‘It’s a reflection of her mood,’ she said, digging into the fries that came with my burger.
‘You mean she was in a perpetual bad mood when she was with me?’
I asked.
‘No, it’s rebellion, anger. She’s telling off everybody in the office, being a Farah. I thought she was doing okay, but clearly not. She doesn’t speak to anyone in the office, not even me. When are we going to speak to her, Tejas?’
‘It’s just been two weeks,’ I said. Two weeks within which I’d started getting to know Aisha good and proper. I could be invested in this relationship. I was ninety-nine per cent sure.
‘The other day I bumped into Ruhi in the loo,’ Aisha said. ‘She was crying, obviously. Is she still texting you?’
‘Yes. Passive-aggressive.’ Ruhi had been sending me cutesy, friendly messages, followed by angry ones.
‘This had to happen,’ Aisha said. ‘One bad boy breaks your heart and you learn to deal with them for the rest of your life.’
‘Who broke yours?’ I asked.
‘I’m the heartbreaker. Didn’t you guess?’ Aisha said.
We were still getting to know each other. Aisha was surprisingly reticent about her life before me. Mine was an open book. Aisha had seen and heard what happened between Ruhi and me. Hers was more of something she liked to call a past life. All I had were vague recollections of some guy named Kartik.
‘I know you don’t need a man. Still, talking to me is part of the game,’ I urged.
‘I’ve had flings. Nice guys. Nothing serious. Kartik was slightly serious. Amicable split,’ she said, flippant about it. ‘There’s just one thing that’s bothering me these days.’
‘I’m listening,’ I said.
‘I’ve never been this fat before. She pushed away the plate of fries which she’d eaten all by herself.
‘Are you serious? I didn’t think you were the type to worry about that,’ I said.
‘I didn’t either. But it is what it is,’ Aisha sighed. ‘And it doesn’t feel good.’
‘Hey, all you need is to work out a bit. Get up in the mornings, we’ll go for a run. You don’t need to look good, you need to feel good. Plus, I don’t mind how you look, and you shouldn’t either.’
‘That’s a horrible thing to say,’ she said.
‘Thanks,’ I said. This was not a conversation to have with her. I got up and stretched. ‘So I’m going to spend the rest of my day writing.’
‘Really?’ Aisha said with a mocking look.
‘Truly.’
We’d kept our relationship slow but Aisha was beginning to get a clue about my major writing block. How could I write, when she had my attention all night and we were texting everyday?
I had a castle I’d started writing about. I needed characters and I’d added one based on Ruhi before. Now I added one inspired by Aisha too.
‘How about sharing what you do with others?’ She asked me.
‘What do you mean, like teach?’ I had considered it.
‘Yes, eventually teach.’
‘Where? Delhi University, between Dryden and Pope? That’s not me.
And the exam to get qualified is something else.’
‘We’ll figure something out for you,’ Aisha said.
‘And you?’ I asked her. ‘Will you continue with social media for Litracy?’
‘I have no clue. I don’t plan these things out,’ she said. ‘They just happen.’
‘And your parents?’
‘They are good with whatever. I don’t want to work eight hours a day forever, Tejas. I like doing my own thing.’
I thought about what I liked doing, and the half-baked plot I’d been toying with. I didn’t know anymore.
‘This is for you. I found it lying around at work.’
Aisha slid across a copy of a book called The War of Art : Bre
ak Through the Blocks and Win Your Inner Creative Battles .
‘I know you’ve been having trouble submitting material. This might help you.’
‘I’m not having trouble with anything. It’s all on my computer,’
I lied.
‘Oh. I don’t mean to intrude. I do like the way you write. You know I loved your book.’
‘It took you three months to read it,’ I said.
‘But I did read it. It is too, uh, intimate. Is that the correct usage of the word?’
‘Yes. Intimacy. But more than that, vulnerability. That’s at the heart of all good writing. Putting yourself out there. And it’s not nice when someone tells you how to do your job,’ I added softly. ‘You know what, though? I’m sending you a short story. Do with it what you will.’
‘That’s great. And I get it, Tejas, okay? I won’t nag you about this. It’s between you and editorial.’
‘Thank you.’
‘And I don’t mean to pry but I couldn’t find any of your writing for May. Ruhi said we can quote from your journals at times.’
‘I lost that Moleskine.’
‘Moleskine, you mean diary? Like this one?’ She picked up my leather-bound black diary.
‘I saw one like this in Ruhi’s bag on the trip.’
‘I have a lot of writing in there. Maybe she forgot to give it to me. I’m not going anywhere near her though. You’ll have to ask her for it.’
14
Delicate
– AISHA –
Sunday, 18 September
What’s on your mind?
If you liked @Litracy’s The Indian Detective Novel Series, wait till you catch book #3. The author Neel Rathore will be there in
person to launch it with an exciting treasure hunt, bundles of fun for youngsters & those young at heart on September 24th, the coming Sunday @OxfordBookStore, Delhi. #WD # Litracy #NeelRathore
‘You’re spoiling me, Tejas.’
‘I know.’
It was Sunday. I usually spent the day having a long soak in the tub with bath salts and a magazine followed by writing a blog post. Now I’d started going for morning runs with Tejas. All the better. I hated looking at my overflowing self in the mirror. I hardly wrote on my blog these days; my readers did not seem that interested in reading about food and fitness. All the attention went to the #metoo articles circulating these days.
Today, however, Tejas wanted to write, so I went to Lodhi Gardens without him and he asked me to meet him at his place after.
When I got there, he had a breakfast spread ready for me. There was French toast with cinnamon and strawberries, chocolate smoothies and strong filter coffee. He even had roadside-style bun-omelettes with sev and chutney.
‘You’ve been creative, and your staff busy.’
‘Yes yes, you’ve been looking quite emaciated lately.’
‘Don’t you patronize me. I’m actually fifty-eight kilos now and gaining.’ I poured the coffee and took a slice of the toast.
‘I hadn’t noticed.’
‘Don’t lie to me. And this is the third breakfast you’ve made for me this month.’
‘I’m showing you what every morning can be like,’ he said, making a plate for me with bits of everything.
‘This a ploy to get me to stay over?’ I said, digging in.
‘Maybe. How is Ruhi doing?’ Tejas asked. ‘Let’s get her blessing and get on with things?’
‘I will, I will. Tomorrow is the day. She hasn’t been regular at work. Works from home mostly, and when she comes, she broods silently at her desk. It’s like she’s in depression. All she says is hello to me and then back to work. At least her productivity is off the charts. But, tough luck, rumour has it that Litracy is going to be absorbed into WD.’
‘What do you mean?’ Tejas said.
‘They will run it as a letterhead, meaning only an editor or two will be assigned to it. The Litracy office might be shut down or
used for HR. No separate managing editor, just an editor and assistant.’
‘Man, that sucks. Litracy’s made strides hasn’t it?’
‘Yes, but the company hasn’t. It needs to downsize. Hey, have you been checking your mail lately?’
‘No, you know how I am. Why?’
‘Just some office stuff. Farah was asking if you have anything for us yet?’
‘Can’t you make do with what you’ve got? Post things about authors, their inspirational quotes and so on?’ Tejas was skirting around the topic as usual. I didn’t push it.
‘I can, and I have, for social media. I think editorial wanted to know. Guess Ruhi’s avoiding you.’
‘Tell them I’m expanding the short story.’
‘I like that short story.’ I’d entered it in a competition. I thought it would be a nice surprise if he won.
‘I know you do.’
‘Have you written anything about me?’ I asked.
‘Why? You want to be my muse?’
‘I thought I already was.’
‘I’ll show you when I’m ready. I have stuff about you, Ruhi, even Farah,’ Tejas said.
‘I’d love to see that. You know, in the past few months, she’s become nicer to Ruhi. Mountain Echoes really turned things around for her.’
‘Good. She tries too hard to please her mother,’ I said.
‘Now that I think about it, that’s how it was with me. I could never know what she was really thinking. Everything was “whatever you want, whatever you say, whatever you like”. All I know for sure is that she loved my writing. But then, so do most people,’
Tejas said.
‘You’re vain and you don’t even know it.’ I was teasing him, but his ego was really beginning to bother me.
‘I am not.’
‘Why do you carry those reviews around, not to mention your book everywhere you go?’ I pointed at the raggedy copy of his book with newspaper and magazine cuttings in it.
‘It’s for inspiration.’
‘When I want inspiration, I pick up a mag, or open Pinterest and see what others are up to. New energy. You should do the same.’
‘Yeah, read. I do. You have as many magazines as I do books. But in all honesty, writing a blog post is nothing compared to writing a book.’
‘There you go again. Vain.’
‘Let’s drop it. More food?’ He said, looking at my empty plate.
‘No thanks.’
He was clearly struggling with his work; I didn’t want to piss him off. And what he said, said more about him than me anyway.
Though if he did not change his tune, I wouldn’t put up with it for long.
Monday, 19 September
What’s on your mind?
Listen up, history buffs! Litracy author & historian @Malini Singh is giving a guided tour of the Hauz Khas lake and fort, which is also the setting of her gripping fictional bestseller, Once Upon a Dynasty . Choose your dates & sign up here. #WDIndia
#HKV #DelhiWalks
I was alone in the Litracy conference room and it was almost lunchtime.
Ruhi wasn’t around and the designers along with the interns had gone to try the fusion place supposed to be the new Coast Cafe. I passed, as I was going to try my luck and apply for the JLF core team on a whim. I’d met the week’s deadlines and because of Ruhi’s lack of teamwork at the moment, work was a little slow.
Everyone loved my work at the litfest. Another one would be great exposure.
To apply, we had to write a short email to Farah about what we’ve done in the company and how we’re going to be beneficial as part of the JLF team. Today was the last day to apply, and they were going to announce the team in the afternoon.
Maybe Ruhi was making finishing touches on her application and wanted to do that in peace at home. I hope she got it, throwing
herself into work will help her move on. She has been taking random half-days throughout the month; everyone thinks she’s not well, but no one wanted to ask Farah. People kept asking me and I
didn’t know what to say.
I finished the application and took out my salad. I didn’t have a fork so I fished through Ruhi’s drawer to find one, and that’s when I saw it.
The spine and cover of Tejas’s diary with the pages torn out. The cover was black but he’d scratched a T inside. Unmistakeable.
Shit. Ruhi had had his Moleskine all along. I felt stupid, I knew how infatuated Ruhi was with him but I’d never realised the extent of her obsession.
If we both got on the JLF team, it would be the best way to help her get back to normal.
I felt it best not to tell Tejas. Let him think he misplaced his journal.
I ate lunch by myself while browsing Harper’s Bazaar and Marie Claire online. The international versions were always better than the Indian ones, though I couldn’t spot a single person my size on their sites. I could dare to be different. The fashion industry was infamous for perpetuating skinny culture.
I didn’t even know there was a skinny culture. Unwittingly, I had been conforming to and propagating it, as Maya had explained to me. Through her encouragement, I was shifting from eating well to looking well. I was starting to enjoy different kinds of cuisine, and was having ravioli leftovers from the Italian restaurant Tejas and I had gone to last night. I had even begun skipping out on the salads recently. I vowed to change that.
By the time I finished, Ruhi entered the office. She was wearing tights and an old shirt and looked exhausted.
‘Hi,’ I said.
She smiled, glancing at my neck. Shoot. I pried my hair open to cover it. Damn that hickey from last night. I usually used concealer to hide them but had forgotten to today.
‘Ready for the announcement?’ I asked.
‘Yes. Farah’s getting ready to mail us.’
The rest of the office had started returning. I went back to work, sitting with Saloni and Rahul in the design section. Ruhi’s presence was too gloomy to bear these days.
In hindsight, I’d sent in my application just an hour ago and no one would have had the time to read it. I forgot about it and began brainstorming ideas with Saloni.
I had devised ways of amping up each Litracy author’s social profile, even if it meant posting on their behalf. The way to do that was infographics and user engagement. It was quite a bit of trend research, but taking it week by week, I was a fortnight ahead.
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