Namaste New York: A Novel
Page 26
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That Saturday, Raj and Carrie met at an Indian restaurant on Lexington Avenue in midtown Manhattan. Carrie had chosen a red salwar suit and red sparkling bangles, and she'd decided to wear her wavy hair down and loose. A small nose ring adorned her nostril, and the staff and several customers watched her as she walked to the table. Raj had worked that day, but as Carrie stood radiant before him at the table, he no longer felt tired. He stood up quickly, and pulled the chair out for her. Carrie smiled at Raj, and then at the young Indian boy who greeted them. She took the menu the boy offered before he ran to get the water carafe for the table. Raj took another long look at Carrie. "You are going to put me in trouble."
"Why?" Carrie asked with some concern. "What did I do?" She had just sat down, but she thought that perhaps she'd already broken some Indian tradition.
"You look so beautiful. Everyone in the restaurant is staring at you," Raj said shyly before turning his attention to the menu.
"Oh, ha! I thought I did something wrong," Carrie replied.
"No. But I think they're not used to seeing a white girl with an Indian boy in an Indian restaurant." Carrie glanced around the restaurant, not at all self-conscious. "You surprised me with the Indian dress," Raj remarked.
"Do you like it?"
"Very much. You look like an angel that the British forgot and left behind in India," Raj replied. Now it was Carrie's turn to feel shy. "I like that nose ring on you," Raj said. "It seems that you did your research."
"I tried. But I couldn't find matching earrings, so I decided to keep my hair down," Carrie explained.
"I didn't even notice," Raj lied.
The waiter brought water to the table, and as he was filling their glasses, Raj looked at him carefully. He thought that he was probably a student pursuing graduate studies somewhere in New York, just like Raj, but Raj didn't say anything. Instead he began to study the menu after the waiter left. "So, madam, what would you like to eat?"
"Hmm, I don't know. Everything on the menu has the word 'curry' in it. It all sounds the same to me," Carrie said, shaking her head.
"Yeah, I know. Indians can make curry out of anything. But I don't think they make the food that spicy here, so you don't have to worry about it," Raj said, trying to reassure her.
"Okay, I believe you. I'll try whatever you order. You decide."
"Good! Then I'm thinking?one seafood dish, one chicken dish, and one vegetarian dish with naan and rice. That should give you a good taste of a wide variety of Indian food," Raj replied.
"That's a lot of food!" Carrie raised her eyebrows in mock horror.
"Don't worry about it. I can eat a lot of Indian food."
"Okay, then seafood and chicken and?vegetarian naan?" Carrie laughed. She'd already forgotten the order.
When the waiter returned, Raj ordered one shrimp curry, chicken kadai, vegetable jaifrezi, naan, and rice. He requested that the chef not use any chili, and to make sure that all of the dishes were mild spicy. He also ordered a mango lassi for Carrie, just in case she needed the cool yogurt drink to handle the food that Indians considered "mild."
"You know, in London, we have a very big Indian community," Carrie said, taking a drink of water. "Lots of Indian restaurants, shops and stuff. I was always attracted to all of those colorful saris! But I didn't know how to wear them." Raj hummed, a habit he'd picked up from Vijay. "You know those people who wear turbans and have long beards?what do you call them?" Carrie asked.
"Punjabis," Raj replied.
"Yes! We see a lot of those people in London. I love the festival of lights. Whenever they used to play with the colors, I always wanted to be a part of it," Carrie said, her voice and expressions reflecting her excitement about her experiences with Indian traditions.
"So why didn't you participate?" Raj asked.
"My dad. He thought the colors weren't good for my skin and eyes, so he didn't let me get involved," Carrie answered.
"Hmm?and did your mother think that as well?
"My mom died from breast cancer when I was ten."
"Oh, I'm very sorry," Raj said, offering his condolences.
"It's okay. I'm over it now."
"So how did you end up in New York?" Raj wanted to change the topic to anything but mothers.
"Mostly because of a job," Carrie answered.
Just then the waiter arrived at the table with multiple plates balanced on his arms and hands.
"Huh! Food is here. The smell of the spices is making me hungry," Raj said, rubbing his hands together. Before serving the food to Carrie, Raj took a small taste of each dish to make sure that it wasn't too spicy for Carrie. Although Carrie was flattered by his attention and concern, she'd noticed that other customers were laughing and whispering about them.
"Don't be over-protective, Raj. I'm a grown woman; I can handle food."
"Okay. But if you think it's too spicy, take a sip of the lassi. It should help," Raj suggested.
"Don't worry about it! I'll be fine. So you can really cook all of this?"
"Of course."
"Did your mom teach you?" Carrie started to scoop food onto her plate.
As usual, Raj fumbled with the question. "Um, yeah. Yeah, my mother taught me," he replied. He really didn't want to ruin the evening with his sad story.
"Really! And you learned everything?" Carrie asked.
"Sure. Otherwise she wouldn't have let me come here. After I got my visa, she kept me in the kitchen with her for almost two months." Raj regretting the lie, but he wasn't ready to share the truth.
"She must be so proud of you now," Carrie said, taking a bite of shrimp curry. She picked up her water glass and took a long drink.
Raj let out an ironic laugh. "Oh, yeah. Mom's always telling me how proud she is of me," he replied sarcastically. Carrie didn't seem to notice. "So, do you like the food?" Raj watched her take a few bites of vegetable jaifrezi.
"Yes. It's very good. I told you I like spicy food." Carrie's face had already developed a noticeable flush, but she was determined not to admit that the food was far too spicy for her. Raj flagged the waiter over and asked for sugar.
"Here," Raj offered. "Take a bit of sugar on your finger when you need to."
Carrie gave an embarrassed laugh. "Well, so much for my famous poker face," she replied, dipping her finger into the sugar bowl. "So, Vijay and Lucky were your friends in India?" Carrie began doing sugar chasers with nearly every bite of her food.
"No. I met them here at the university and we decided to live together," Raj answered.
"They're very funny," Carrie said.
"Yeah, we have a lot of fun together. We're like a small family."
Carrie tried to eat some more of her food, but the spices were too much, and she finally gave up in defeat. Raj asked the waiter to pack the food in a takeout container and then he ordered gulab jamuns for dessert. The syrupy sweetness of the gulab jamuns counteracted the burning in Carrie's mouth, and she began to relax again. Raj paid the bill, leaving a big tip for the student waiter, and they left the restaurant.
"Thank you so much for dinner, Raj. I'd love to spend some more time together. I like being with you," Carrie confessed as she hugged him. Raj awkwardly put his arms around her and patted her back. Carrie took his hand and put it around her waist, and they walked towards the subway.
When they got to her apartment, Carrie took a pen out of her purse and wrote her number on Raj's palm. It was a clich?d move, but Raj didn't seem like the kind of guy who would know that. Carrie kissed his cheek, thanked him again, and said goodnight.
Raj waited until she was safe inside the double doors before he turned to leave. Carrie had caught him off-guard. He'd never believed that a girl that beautiful would be interested in him. Raj looked down at his palm and smiled, and then headed off to the subway, careful to keep his hands out of his pockets so that he didn't smudge her writing.
Uncharacteristically,
but with Vijay and Lucky's prodding, Raj decided to call her the next evening, and after their first phone call, Carrie began to spend a lot of her free time with the boys. She took them all over the city to museums and restaurants and concerts, almost all of which they attended for free because of her professional contacts. They celebrated Thanksgiving and Christmas together, and on New Year's Eve, they all went skating at Rockefeller Center and huddled together and drank hot chocolate while they watched the ball drop in Times Square. Carrie's energy and enthusiasm were infectious, and Lucky, Vijay, and Raj were thrilled to see and experience New York in a way they never could have without Carrie. She, in turn, enjoyed the friendships she was building. Carrie had finally grown comfortable enough with Raj that she no longer felt like a bumbling idiot around him, but the butterflies in her stomach hadn't gone away. Her feelings for him were growing, despite her efforts to control herself. If she kept this up much longer, she was afraid that she just might end up falling in love.