Avantika looked up from her computer screen and minimized the Facebook page open on it. ‘I do. I just … don’t want to do it.’
Uday raised an eyebrow.
‘It’s a listicle,’ she said, pouring as much scorn as possible into the word. ‘Twenty-five ways to get back at your ex. I don’t even know five and it’s not like I haven’t thought about it, believe me.’
Uday shrugged. ‘Couldn’t understand why you were with him anyway.’
‘Rishi? Look, we all do stupid things in college, okay? I did … him.’
‘No, that part I get,’ Uday said, grinning. ‘It’s the three years after college that’s the mystery.’
It was her turn to shrug. ‘I don’t know, I guess I thought nobody else would want to date me.’
He gave her a disbelieving look.
‘What? I was chubby back then, remember?’ she said.
‘You were not chubby. And even if you had been, you deserved a lot better than him.’
She narrowed her eyes, ‘You’re being nice to me,’ she said in an accusatory tone, ‘why?’
‘I don’t know. Maybe I should see a doctor after work,’ he shot back. ‘How did that interview go, by the way? Was it as bad as you’d thought?’
Avantika hesitated. Uday was a good friend, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to tell him all that had happened. Not yet, anyway.
‘No, it was great,’ she said. ‘Mostly because Aisha wasn’t there.’
‘Meaning?’
‘She wasn’t there. She had to be someplace else.’
‘But didn’t you go all the way till—?’
‘Yes.’
‘And she didn’t send a message cancelling or anything?’
‘No.’
‘Wow.’
‘Yeah.’
‘But if the interview didn’t happen, where were you all morning?’
She threw her hands up in mock indignation. ‘What are you? My mother? I was stuck in traffic.’
He snorted. ‘Really? All morning in traffic?’
‘This is Bombay, you know.’
‘Actually it’s Mumbai, but okay. At ease, soldier. You can go back to stalking people on social media now.’
She made a face at him as he went back to his seat. Stalking people on social media! Hah! As if she didn’t have better—
Suddenly, she went very still. Perhaps it wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
Ajay. Terribly prosaic name. Common. You knew at least one Ajay in your lifetime. So did everyone else, including Ajay himself, whoever he may be. Which is why it struck Avantika as strange that there wasn’t a single Ajay in Laxmi’s friend list. There was no mention of him on her timeline either. Or any now-mandatory lovey-dovey couple selfies for that matter. How can the man you were clearly besotted with, not feature prominently on your Facebook page? Were there no laws anymore?
She glanced at Laxmi’s diary lying on her desk, hidden under a magazine. Some of the poems in it had been a bit, well, PG15. She shouldn’t have read them, she knew. But she had. She picked it up now, opened a random page and read:
They say I’ll be ruined
if I love with my heart
But in matters of affection
The mind plays no part
Now the coin is tossed
Let’s begin the game
Heads, for a happy ending
Tails, for just shame.
Who was this man who was going to bring her shame? And did she mean ‘just’ as in ‘only’ or ‘just’ as in justified? That was the problem with having a good vocabulary. Anything could mean anything. She wondered what happened to letting things be. It was as if the starry-eyed cub reporter she had once been had woken up from the sleep she had been drugged into. That chick was nosy. And insane. This couldn’t possibly turn out well.
She turned her attention back to Laxmi’s profile. So, no Ajay. Maybe he was one of those people who went on a social media detox from time to time. Fine. She just had to find someone who knew about him and his relationship with Laxmi. Like Aisha. Okay, correction, she just had to find someone who knew about him and his relationship with Laxmi, who wouldn’t ask her to fuck off when asked to comment on the matter. Easy-peasy.
She scrolled down Laxmi’s friend-list. Nearly everyone from the batch of 1999. Definitely all the cool kids, a surprising number of whom seemed to be in touch with Laxmi, judging from her timeline. But then, she had definitely been popular after becoming besties with Aisha. See, Luke, she thought, that’s the power of the dark side. As she scrolled down the timeline, one post caught her eye. A chirpy little message from Mahira Hussein née Jariwala saying: ‘Hey gurl! just heard! Soooohpy 4 u gaiz! godbless!’ followed by eleven different emojis.
After spending a few moments getting over this unprovoked assault on language, she turned the message over in her head. It could’ve been about anything. Anything. But what if it wasn’t? Wasn’t it worth a shot? Even if it meant meeting a woman who was robbing some village somewhere of an idiot?
This is a new low, thought Avantika, as she stared at the entrance of Indigo Deli. It wasn’t the place that was at fault. She quite liked the Deli’s food—she could’ve written sonnets to their pulled pork burger. And ballads to their homemade mint blueberry ice cream. No, the problem was that she had now been waiting for—she looked at her watch - half an hour. Not for Ryan Gosling, but for Mahira, a woman so daft she had mentioned her actual mobile number on her Facebook page. Who does that? Okay, granted, it had made it easier to reach her and set up what promised to be a reunion out of a Woody Allen film, but still who does that? There was no justice in the world, she decided.
She was about to order something to eat when Mahira sashayed in. The years had been kind to her. Either that or she knew some very expensive surgeons, Avantika thought uncharitably. She was wearing a powder blue shift dress with matching heels and carrying a cobalt blue envelope clutch. Large Jackie O styled sunglasses pushed back dark brown hair with golden highlights. She looked every inch the socialite and heads turned as she made her way to Avantika’s table.
‘Hi! Sorry I’m late!’ she squealed and Avantika could hear the exclamation marks.
‘Hi,’ she replied and forced herself to politely receive the air kisses Mahira gave her.
‘I was so surprised when you called! After all these years! It’s been so long, na?’
Avantika admitted that it had indeed been a while.
‘You know, I had sent you a friend request on FB,’ Mahira said, ‘but you didn’t reply and I was like, why is she giving me so much attitude? Then I figured I had put my married name on my FB profile, so I was like maybe that’s why Avantika didn’t accept my request! Because hello, she didn’t know it was me!’
Avantika had known exactly who it was, but she decided that Mahira didn’t need to know that. ‘I’m so glad you understand,’ she said instead. ‘Are you hungry? Let’s order.’
Mahira glanced through the menu and pursed her lips.
‘I don’t know … I’m on a greens only diet right now and they don’t have a kale smoothie or anything …’
Avantika nodded sympathetically. As far as she was concerned, diets were like a colon cleanse1. Some people had to have them, they helped apparently, but she wouldn’t have signed up for one just for kicks.
‘Hmm, I’ll just have the green tea I guess,’ Mahira said.
Avantika beckoned the waiter. ‘A green tea and a cappuccino,’ she said. As the waiter nodded and left, she turned to Mahira, ‘So … what’ve you been up to?’
‘I have my own business,’ Mahira said proudly. ‘I do interiors.’
‘Wow, nice, where is your—’
‘I’ve just done up my home and my husband’s office right now, but he promised that he’d get me more clients soon.’
‘That’s—’
‘He says I have great taste! And he should know, you know. He is really smart.’
‘Really. What does he do?’
‘Oh, he runs his family business. V. R. Screws.’
Avantika was saved from the necessity of responding by the waiter, who came up with their order.
‘What about you?’ Mahira asked, as the waiter placed a cup of clear green tea before her. ‘What does your husband do?’
Not exist, Avantika wanted to reply. Instead, she smiled and added some sugar to her coffee before saying, ‘Oh, I’m single.’
Mahira looked apologetic.
‘I am so sorry,’ she said in tones people reserve for funerals.
‘Why? It’s awesome.’
‘But you must feel so lonely, no?’
‘Not really.’
‘Oh, good for you, sweetie!’ Mahira said with a sweet smile, as she patted Avantika’s hand.
‘Anyway,’ said Avantika, through clenched teeth. ‘Are you in touch with anyone from school?’
Almost immediately, she regretted asking such a broad question. Because judging from the names she rattled off, it seemed Mahira was in touch with everyone. Teachers, seniors, juniors and nearly half of their class at the very least. After about ten minutes of listening to what was going on in random strangers’ lives, Avantika interrupted her, ‘Hey, you know who I ran into the other day? Aisha.’
‘Oh! Where?’ Mahira asked with a delighted look on her face.
‘At a press conference,’ Avantika replied, ‘She designs bags and I—’
‘I know! Aren’t they amazing? I already have three!’
‘Yes, she had organized this press conference to—’
‘Oh my god! I’m dying for her next collection to come out!’
‘Ye-ah, we all are,’ Avantika said. ‘The thing is, I totally forgot to ask her if she’s still in touch with Laxmi. You remember La—’
‘Hello! Of course, I do! I met her just a few weeks ago! She’s into branding now, so I asked her if she could do the brand identity for my business. You know? Logo, visiting card, letterheads, that kind of thing. So anyway, she said she was really busy then, but she said she’d call me soon. At first I was like way to avoid me Laxmi, but then Shweta told me that she and Aisha are doing some joint venture, so I was like okay, that’s definitely a big opportunity. Businesswise also and relationship-wise also. You remember that whole thing between her and Aisha’s brother, no?’
Avantika frowned. Now that Mahira mentioned it, she did remember hearing bits and pieces of rumours about how Laxmi was dating Dhruv Juneja. But by the time she had heard about it, she and Laxmi were no longer close enough for her to ask about details or receive them, for that matter. Well, it wasn’t like she couldn’t know them now…
‘Laxmi went out with Aisha’s brother?’ she asked, feigning surprise, ‘I didn’t know—’
Mahira’s eyes gleamed. ‘Shut up!’ she said, excitedly. ‘They were dating for like, five years! It started in the tenth standard and we were all so jealous of her! He was such a stud! Soooo good-looking and charming! My god! I was half-mad over him, everyone who met him was half-mad over him! How can you not know this?’
Avantika gave a self-deprecating shrug. ‘So … they’re still together?’ she asked, continuing her act of least clued-in journalist in the world.
‘No, no,’ Mahira scoffed, taking a delicate sip of her green tea. ‘They broke up after college, I think. Dhruv got married to some society chick afterwards—family friend, you know. But I hear they got divorced last year.’ She lowered her voice. ‘Apparently she told him she just didn’t love him anymore.’
Avantika winced inwardly, but didn’t let the look of eager interest slip from her face. ‘So you think Laxmi is trying to get back with Dhruv?’ she asked. ‘But I’d heard she was dating someone called Ajay … something?’
‘Reely?’ Mahira asked wide-eyed with excitement, ‘Are you sure? I mean, Shweta would’ve told me if that was the case—’
‘Maybe she doesn’t know,’ Avantika said, taking a sip of water.
‘Yeah right,’ Mahira laughed. ‘Shweta knows everything about everyone in our gang.’
She does, does she, thought Avantika with an inward smile.
Mahira was prattling on, oblivious to the dark plotting in Avantika’s brain. ‘But even if there is some other guy, don’t tell me he’s better than Dhruv Juneja. I mean, hello? He’s rich, he’s hot, they have a history. What more do you need?’
Compatibility? Chemistry? A working brain? Avantika pursed her lips, trying not to answer that question.
‘You know,’ Mahira was saying, ‘I think I’ll call and meet Laxmi for lunch anyway, you want to join us?’
Sure, Avantika thought, maybe we could ask David Lynch to direct the whole thing. We could call it Lunch by Lynch. Thankfully, the waiter chose this exact moment to hover at her elbow. ‘Anything else, ma’am?’ he asked.
Mahira shook her head. Avantika, on the other hand, was feeling a bit peckish.
‘Can I have the pecan pie from the specials, please?’ she asked.
The waiter made a note and left. She turned back to find Mahira glaring at her. She looked outraged.
‘How can you do that?’ she hissed, ‘aren’t they like a protected species?’
Avantika blinked.
‘What?’
‘Hello, aren’t they like dying out?’
‘Who?’
‘Pecans!’
‘Pecans?’
‘Ya-ha?’
‘What?’
‘Aren’t you journalist types supposed to like, know this stuff? It’s this big bird with a huge beak. There was a whole movie with Julia Roberts and everything.’
‘That’s a pelican,’ Avantika said.
‘Reely?’
‘Yes.’
‘You sure?’
‘Yes.’
‘Oh. Then what’s a pecan?’
‘A nut.’ Like you, she added mentally.
Twenty minutes and a very hurried, humane pecan pie later, Avantika was out of there. At least now she could take an educated guess as to why Mahira had congratulated Laxmi in her post. The history lesson featuring Dhruv was a bonus she didn’t know what to do with. And she still didn’t have a clue who Ajay was. But thanks to Mahira, she now had the telephone number of someone who might.
Five
‘The subscriber you are trying to reach is currently unavailable,’ the automated voice told her. Avantika hung up in exasperation. This was the third time she had tried Shweta’s number. She drummed her fingers impatiently. She had really hoped to have a chat with Shweta. Possibly more fruitful a chat, than the one he’d had with Mahira. It was obvious that Shweta was more clued in to Laxmi’s life. There was a decent chance she might even know the mysterious Ajay.
Of course, whether she’d be willing to tell Avantika anything about him was a different matter. Shweta wasn’t like Mahira. She was sharp, difficult to fool and didn’t have any particular reason to like Avantika. Getting anything out of her would be difficult. But all that was moot if she was unreachable. How weird would it be to land up at the hospital where she worked unannounced, Avantika wondered. Stop it, she told herself, you’re veering into lunatic territory here. What she needed was another point of view. A neutral person, whom she could run this idea by, to beta-test its madness quotient, so to speak. It was time to talk to Uday.
Uday’s desk was a few feet away from Nathan’s cabin. Avantika scanned the area, wondering how to get there without being noticed by Nathan. Then she froze. A man was coming out of Nathan’s cabin. A very familiar man. He noticed her staring and gave her a friendly smile.
‘Hi there,’ Dhruv Juneja said.
Avantika opened her mouth to speak, then shut it. There were any number of reasons why he could be visiting the Mumbai Daily office. Just because none of them were popping into her head right this minute did not mean they didn’t exist. Also, she was probably feeling a little lightheaded because of dehydration or something. Definitely nothing to do with this man. Definitely.
‘Hi,’ she said. ‘Do you umm … come here of
ten?’
How is it, she wondered, that something that sounds casual and witty in my head, sounds utterly idiotic when I actually say it?
Dhruv grinned anyway. Goddamned dimples.
‘Only on days that end with Y,’ he said. ‘No, I’m actually here because I’m doing a project for you guys. A weekly photo series on heritage architecture in Mumbai.’
‘Cool,’ said Avantika. ‘So I’ll … we’ll be seeing a lot more of you then.’
‘I could just email stuff across,’ he said, ‘but if someone wants me here, I suppose I could drop by.’
Whoa. Wait. Hold on a second. Avantika blinked.
‘Great,’ she managed to say before the pause got too long. ‘Good to know.’
‘You got me into trouble that day, you know.’
‘Sorry?’
‘With my sister,’ he explained. ‘Apparently, I wasn’t supposed to tell you about Laxmi.’
‘Oh,’ she said, ‘sorry about that. Do you always do what you’re supposed to?’
He gave her an embarrassed smile. ‘It’s a terrible habit, but I’m trying to quit.’
‘Well, you know what they say. Admitting you have a problem is the first step.’
He laughed.
‘How do I not remember you?’ he asked.
‘Well, I came around just the one time, we didn’t really meet meet.’
‘When was this?’
Avantika cringed inwardly. This was one trip down memory lane that she wasn’t keen on. ‘I don’t remember,’ she lied.
‘Now why don’t I believe that?’ he asked.
‘Wow, you’re all about the questions, aren’t you?’ she muttered.
‘Sorry, it’s just … wait, were you the one who had come over to stay that summer?’
‘Definitely not.’
‘Were you at the seventh standard pyjama party?’
‘No.’
‘The ninth standard pyjama party?’
‘No.’
‘Were you on the basketball team? Those girls used to come over all the time.’
Avantika sighed. The man probably meant well, but he was missing a crucial point.
‘Look, in case you hadn’t noticed, your sister and I aren’t exactly … pals.’
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