by Saranya Rai
‘Don’t sound like such an ’80s hero, man. I just think Mini should talk to Kriti, and try to apologize to her with you. You don’t have to be all mahaan about this.’
‘Look, I am not going to let Mini take the fall for something that was more my fault than hers. That’s the end of it. Now, if you’ll turn the game back on, I can whoop your ass and it’ll make me feel somewhat better.’
‘You mean, you want me to let you win?’
‘Please, just this once.’
~
Mini’s phone rang with the special ringtone that she almost never got to hear. Leaping up from the living-room sofa, she ran into her room, phone in hand. Taking a minute to calm her nerves, she answered the phone, annoyingly breathless.
‘Hi Jahan! What’s up?’
‘I wanted to talk to you about something important, if you have a few minutes now? I don’t want Vicky to overhear. He’s just left my place and will take at least twenty minutes to get home.’
Stomach tightening with excitement, Mini could barely hold back her grin.
‘Yeah, of course! What’s this about?’
‘It’s about Vicky and Kritika.’
The balloon inside her chest deflated instantly and she suddenly did not want to have this conversation, especially with Jahan.
‘Yeah?’
‘I know the truth, Mini. I got it out of Vicky. You can’t seriously be letting your brother take the blame for this whole mess?’
‘I . . . Vicky bhaiya told me not to do anything and I was scared I’ll mess up even further.’ Even to herself, her whisper didn’t sound overly convincing.
‘That doesn’t mean you don’t at least owe Kritika an apology. I’m sure you know or have noticed that things aren’t okay between her and Vicky ever since this thing came out. I’m not saying your apology will fix everything, but it might go a long way to help Vicky and Kritika figure things out. And even if it doesn’t, the apology is important in itself.’
‘I should call her, then?’
‘Yes, Mini. I know I’m being an interfering asshole but I’ve always considered you every bit my own little sister as Vicky’s, and I don’t think he’s right. Own up to Kritika, please. And give your brother a kick as well as a break.’
‘Okay. I will.’
‘I knew you’d do the right thing, Min. I’ll text you Kritika’s number. Catch you later.’
Mini sat on her bed, clutching her phone, with a telltale prickling in her eyes. Within two months of her twenty-first birthday, she’d managed to start a terrible set of rumours, cause a possibly irreparable rift between her brother and his girlfriend, grown three new zits and been called ‘little sister’ by Jahan. What was even the point of getting older?
13
The first embers had appeared in the eastern sky, warming the morning air. Spring was slowly giving way to summer, and Heer awoke with a start. Now that the nights weren’t as cold, she often fell asleep by her window, the cacophony of birdsong waking her up at dawn. The horizon was as still as always, a few stray plumes of smoke curling from distant kitchens.
With a sigh, Heer stood up, stretching out her aching limbs, heading into the courtyard for her morning ablutions. She had just finished sweeping the house and laying out the pots of curd to set when there was a knock at the door. Clucking under her breath, Heer went to answer it. The only people who ever called on her at this hour were unruly neighbourhood children or a wandering ascetic, passing through this village—all in search of food and water. She never turned any of them away. Though she would never admit it, she was starved of company.
Pulling her hair into an untidy knot, Heer opened her door. Sure enough, a man in the telltale clothing and unkempt hair of a Shaiva jogi stood outside. Gesturing that he follow her, Heer stepped back into the courtyard and froze. He made no motion to come inside, rooted to the spot, his eyes hungrily searching her face.
Those eyes . . . she knew those eyes.
With a wrenching sob, Heer threw herself at the man who caught her like he always had. Ranjha had finally come for her.
She had a thousand questions for him but couldn’t seem to ask even one. And then he asked her one.
‘How are you, Heer?’
‘In this moment? Finally, at peace. You?’
He pondered the question for so long, Heer was almost afraid of the answer. ‘I think I have found what I’ve been looking for all these months.’
‘You were right, Ranjha, I should have gone away with you that very night.’
‘Come away with me now.’
‘This minute. Where do you want to go?’
‘Back home, of course. You were right too. All roads lead to Jhang and I think it is time to go speak to your parents again—if that is what you still want.’
Heer nodded, the sunny smile of yore on her face. ‘I think things will be different this time, Ranjha.’
~
Kriti’s small balcony garden was a source of immense pride. Gardening was a hobby that required consistency and timely care; two things she was very bad at, thanks to her lifestyle and work schedules. Nonetheless, she had stuck it out. Her therapist approved too. And so, Kriti potted, pruned, trimmed, fertilized, watered and sprayed industriously when she was able to. It couldn’t really be said that she had a green thumb, though. Too many plants had seen a waterlogged or malnourished demise at her hands. But she did her best, even if the plants preferred the company of her housekeeper Janaki who looked after the garden when Kriti was away.
The days had begun to cool down very slightly and Kriti’s chrysanthemums were showing buds. The geraniums had already begun to bloom, and one or two late-monsoon white zephyr lilies remained. All in all, her balcony garden was a happy place and she had chosen to entertain Mrinalini Behl in her comfort zone. She was more than a little curious about why Vicky’s sister had called and asked to meet in person. Surely, Vicky hadn’t sent his sister with a message because she wouldn’t answer his texts or calls?
She knew Mrinalini was twenty-one, but the nervous-looking girl sitting at the edge of one of her garden chairs appeared even younger with her hair pulled back into a ponytail, chubby cheeks, ratty jeans and oversized band T-shirt. Kriti had tried to unobtrusively read the name of the band, but the font was impossible and she was sure she had never heard of this one. Next to her, having just returned from an ad shoot and still sporting the vestiges of make-up and a fussy hairdo, Kriti felt very overdressed even in her most comfortable cotton jumpsuit.
Mrinalini kept turning her mug of tea around, as though warming her hands. It was a fidgety tic that Vicky had as well, and for a moment, Kriti’s throat closed and a sharp pang hit her right in the chest.
Finally, putting her untouched mug down on the little glass and wrought-iron table, Mrinalini offered her the ghost of a smile.
‘I know this is very presumptuous of me . . . and I’m sure you’re confused about why I’m here. But I had to come and say this in person. Firstly, I’m so sorry. I cannot explain how sorry I am about everything that’s happened, but you have to believe me. I never thought it would play out like this.’
‘Mrinalini, not to interrupt, but I’m still a little lost. What exactly are you apologizing for?’
She took a deep breath, as though bracing herself.
‘That blind item about you and Abhimanyu Neogi that came out in Star Glitz. That was my fault. I told Joshi a made-up story about you and your new boyfriend, and he interpreted my words like that. I didn’t tell him the bit about the movie, though, I have no idea where he got that from.’
Kriti blinked in astonishment.
‘You told Bhaskar Joshi that I’m dating Abhimanyu Neogi? Why?’
‘No, no, I swear I didn’t. Oh God, I’m making such a mess of this apology and explanation. Okay, to begin with, Vicky bhaiya has only ever told me about you working on the new Abhimanyu Neogi movie. No one else. Well, Jahan now, but that is not important. He very briefly mentioned it on my birthday, and also told
me how important it was to keep quiet about it. And I really didn’t tell anyone anything about the movie.’
‘But you told Joshi I’m dating the director?’
‘Not even that!’ Mrinalini looked so upset, Kriti almost didn’t have the heart to be mad. Also, she was still rather confused. ‘I was at a party—Anjali Khanna’s, with my parents. I was sneaking around the dessert table by myself.’
A corner of Kriti’s mouth twitched as she fought to suppress a hysterical giggle.
‘And that’s when Bhaskar Joshi walked right up to me and introduced himself. I was trapped. I didn’t want to talk to him at all, but I couldn’t think of any way out. He started asking me all kinds of questions about bhaiya and tried to ferret out stuff about him and you. I think he wanted to quote me in a way that would make it seem like you two were dating, and this was before you and bhaiya . . . umm . . . you know . . . ’
Kriti cleared her throat, disguising a snort. ‘Yes, I understand, please continue.’
‘Yeah, so, bhaiya’s been in so much shit with the media over stuff like this anyway that I just wanted to give him a break and distract Joshi from him. And the first reason that popped into my head for why you are definitely not dating bhaiya was this complete lie about you and a new “non-actor” boyfriend who is into indie films and whom you met at the Goa Film Festival. Maybe, at some level, I was subconsciously thinking of Abhimanyu Neogi because of what bhaiya had told me, but I did not say his name! And Bhaskar Joshi just took that and ran with it. I’m so sorry, Kritika.’
Kriti was torn between anger, laughter and exasperation. Vicky’s tendency towards drama and propensity to get into trouble was clearly genetic. Mrinalini, while ostensibly very different from her flamboyant actor brother, had a lot in common with him. In the end, amusement won out. In part, she was tired of holding on to her anger. She also missed Vicky too much. And lastly, it was impossible to be too angry with Mrinalini for an unintentional mistake that she was so obviously repentant about.
Allowing herself the chuckle she’d been suppressing for so long, Kriti reached out to pat her hand in a reassuring gesture. ‘It’s all right, Mrinalini, thank you for coming to tell me and apologizing. That must have taken courage. Can you clear up one other thing for me? Why did your brother lie to me about whom he’d told about the film? You must know he did, otherwise you wouldn’t need to explain the whole thing to me. He gave me to understand that he’d given it away in front of a number of people at your birthday party and any one of them could have let something slip. Why didn’t Vicky tell me himself? I . . . it would have been a lot easier to handle, if he had.’
Mrinalini picked up her now lukewarm mug of tea and took a sip. ‘Bhaiya is an overprotective idiot. I don’t even know what he was thinking, but I’m sure he didn’t want me to get into trouble. He was the first person I called when I realized what had happened and while he was justifiably furious with me, he forbade me from saying anything more about it to anyone. Not even you. I was scared and didn’t want to make things worse, so I listened. I should have pushed him harder to let me speak with you much before this.’
‘If you don’t mind me asking, what changed?’
She made a great show of taking another sip of tea.
‘You know Jahan Malek, right?’
‘Vaguely. We’ve met at social events but I’ve never worked with him.’
‘Yeah, well, Jahan and Vicky bhaiya are best friends. Knew each other from before either was an actor. He figured out what was wrong with bhaiya and called me and told me to fix my shit. God, bhaiya’s going to be so mad when he finds out.’
‘I think he’ll forgive you. I really do appreciate you coming to talk to me.’ As Kriti dimpled a genuine smile at her guest, Mrinalini finally relaxed, settling back more comfortably into her chair.
‘I don’t know whether I should say anything, I’ve really said enough and it’s none of my business anyway, but since I’m here, I may as well.’
Kriti laughed quietly behind her own mug. ‘You don’t have to offer so much justification for everything, Mrinalini. What is it?’
‘Please call me Mini! Everyone does. “Mrinalini” is such a mouthful.’
‘Okay, Mini, how about you call me Kriti, then? It’s what my friends call me.’
‘Oh my God, you’re giving me Kriti-privilege? Wait till I crow over bhaiya!’
‘What on earth is Kriti-privilege?’
‘It’s exactly what it sounds like—the privilege of calling you Kriti. Bhaiya was bragging about it one time on the phone. It took him months to get there. Whereas I got it on the first meeting.’
‘What else has Vicky said about me?’ Kriti was somewhat embarrassed but also burning with curiosity.
‘Oh, so much. He talks about you all the time. It’s always “Kriti laughed at this joke” and “Kriti was so good in that scene”. He’s definitely a fan. It’s how he accidentally told me about your Neogi film. He was talking to me about you and it slipped out.’
Mini laughed as she finished, but Kriti didn’t feel like laughing at all. She missed Vicky with a force that surprised even her.
‘Anyway, that reminds me. I know it’s none of my business, but would you please forgive bhaiya? I’m not saying . . . Your relationship is completely your business, but this whole mess really wasn’t as much bhaiya’s fault as mine, and he’s been a mess ever since he got back from Hyderabad. I know it’s because he misses you, and will you please at least talk to him once?’
To her horror, Kriti felt those traitorous tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. Trying to blink them away without being obvious, she sniffed.
‘Oh no, are you . . . did I? I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. I keep putting my foot in my mouth. I should look into buying an actual physical zip for my mouth. Please, don’t cry, Kritika! I mean, Kriti. You don’t have to talk to either of us ever again.’
Laughing through her tears, Kriti got up and leant down next to Mini’s chair, pulling her into a hug.
‘Stop blaming yourself for everything, Mini. It’s okay, I’m just a little emotional about the whole situation. It’s been very stressful at work and trying to smooth over any ruffled feathers from that article. Although, I suppose most of the credit for that goes to my team. I just do as I’m told.’
Kriti returned to her seat while Mini stared at her in fresh horror. ‘I didn’t even think about that. Did . . . Were Abhimanyu Neogi and the production house really pissed off? Did you get into trouble for it? Oh God, I’ll own up to everything in front of them too, if necessary!’
‘No! Absolutely not! I don’t want to sound like your brother, Mini, but he is right about leaving things alone. You did the right thing by talking to me, but it has to stop here. My team is professionally trained to handle situations like this, and they’re not worried. So, you shouldn’t be either. It’ll blow over soon and we’ll all laugh about it some day. Look, we’re laughing about it right now.’ Wiping her cheeks, Kriti offered Mini another smile.
Mini didn’t seem entirely convinced, but she decided to drop the matter.
‘Okay, but please talk to Vicky bhaiya? Even if on the phone?’
‘You’re a really persistent pest, aren’t you?’ Getting up, Kriti took both mugs and walked back inside. ‘I’ll think about it later, okay? Achha, are you hungry? I think I have some Danish shortbread cookies some well-meaning fan sent me that I am not allowed to even look at.’
Mini followed, looking happier than she had all evening. ‘I’m always hungry. I’m happy to get rid of the cookies for you.’
‘Has anyone ever told you how frightfully like your brother you are?’
~
‘Vicky bhaiyaaaa,’ Mini sang out the last vowel, as she bounced in through the open door to his office. ‘I have some news for you.’
Vicky frowned, looking up from a new script his manager had sent him earlier that day.
‘What are you so happy about?’
Mrinalini
plopped down on the couch, forcing him to swivel around at his desk.
‘I went to see Kriti today.’
‘You did what?’ His eyes almost popped out of their sockets.
Mini nodded, unbearably smug. ‘I went and told her the truth—how I was the one really responsible for part of the story Bhaskar Joshi printed about her, and I apologized, and she forgave me. Oh, and she gave me Kriti-privilege right away; so Mini-1, Vicky-0.’
Vicky gaped at her, trying but unable to form a coherent sentence. He jumped up and came to sit by her on the couch.
‘You told Kriti the truth? How did you even see her?’
‘I called her. I told her I had something important to discuss in person, so she invited me to her place. I went. Laid out the whole story, explained everything. I think she may have been a little mad in between, but by the end, she completely forgave me, and gave me both Kriti-privilege and shortbread cookies.’
‘Motherfu—I haven’t been to Kriti’s place yet!’
Mini grinned wider. ‘Oho, so Mini-2, Vicky-0.’
‘Shut up! Why did you go? I distinctly told you not to do anything. What if . . .’
Sensing her brother’s agitation, Mini stopped grinning.
‘What if . . . what, bhaiya? What if she’d yelled at me? Threatened to sue? Refused to see me? I was prepared for all those scenarios. I told you before, Vicky bhaiya, you have to let me do my own thing. If that includes making my own mistakes, so be it. You need to grow up a little.’ She pushed gently at his shoulder. ‘You’re breaking Kriti’s heart by not telling her the whole truth, just as you’re eating your own heart out over here. Stop it! It’s so unnecessary. Yeah, you mess up sometimes, and you should take responsibility for those times. Just like you gotta let me take responsibility when I do.’
Vicky stared at her in amazement. ‘Did I just get schooled by my own baby sister?’
‘Oh, for God’s sake, I’m hardly your baby sister. And yeah, you did. Mini-3, Vicky-0.’
Leaning back against the couch, Vicky rubbed a weary hand over his face. ‘I don’t know what to say. I guess I’m just used to thinking I can fix everything for you. And I did—do feel guilty about giving you the information you messed up with anyway. You were trying to protect me from Joshi and you shouldn’t have to. So . . . Kriti took it well, you’re saying?’