Aman
Set and go.
I’d hardly walked into my apartment and put my laptop bag down when the doorbell rang for the first of many, many times that evening.
First it was Sheryl and the waiting staff.
Then it was Jogi and his driver with crates and crates of beer and champagne.
Then it was the decorators.
While Sheryl instructed the staff and dispatched Ashok to pick up food from our restaurant, the decorators got started moving the furniture around on the balcony.
Jogi walked up to me as I settled on the living room couch with a cup of coffee. He popped open a bottle of beer and sat down.
‘Why are you sending me to London next week, dude? What the fuck?’ Both of us laughed.
‘Don’t know, man, just kinda slipped out,’ I replied, scratching my jawline.
‘Who is she?’
‘Avani,’ I said, biting the inside of my cheek to stop myself from smiling at the mention of her name.
‘Avani … Hmm.’
He held up his beer bottle and tilted it in my direction before taking another swig.
This is why Jogi and I had stayed friends.
He was a little bit of both of us.
He liked his parties and road trips as much as he liked staying home and beating every FIFA score of mine on PlayStation.
On some days, if I needed to unwind after hectic work hours, Jogi and I could sit in the same room and not utter a word to each other.
We’d either be gaming furiously or he’d be reading a book and drinking his beer while I’d be mindlessly strumming on my guitar.
But every time he sensed that I had had a tough day, he would turn up and be at my side.
I sat back on the couch and checked my phone for missed messages or calls, mentally making a note of everyone who had promised to turn up.
I hadn’t expected so many of my friends, and their friends, to be so quick to respond.
But I guess everyone loves a party.
By 8 p.m., my apartment had been cleaned spotless, the food had been delivered and was ready to be served, the waiting staff was being re-briefed by Sheryl, the bartender had set up his station at my bar counter and was getting lectured by Jogi on making the perfect whisky sour, and the band was setting up its instruments in the corner of my living room just by the balcony, which had been transformed into a phenomenal boho backyard by Meghna and team, complete with carpets, lamps, a canopy of fairy lights and floor cushions and couches.
I looked around, satisfied, and decided to hit the shower.
I let the cold water run over my body.
And as my nerves calmed, my thoughts turned from the party to an image of Avani in the shower with me.
I shook my head and opened my eyes wide to push the image out of my mind.
It had clearly been too long.
I turned the shower off and stepped out, a towel wrapped around my waist as I walked to the closet.
Without much thought I picked out the black button-down half-sleeve silk shirt and baggy grey dress pants.
I quickly brushed my hair and put on my white sneakers before stepping out.
I walked back almost immediately to pat on some aftershave.
I hadn’t shaved today, but I’d gathered she loved the smell.
In the time that I was away, a few people had already arrived.
Jogi was chilling with Nikhil and his girlfriend (who’d got her short-haired friend along, so I was sure I wasn’t going to see much of Jogi around later).
Meghna and her team were chatting with Sheryl, and a few others, who I guessed were Jogi’s friends, sat by the lamps outside, smoking.
Avani hadn’t arrived yet.
I looked at the clock: 8.40 p.m.
I headed towards Sheryl with a flute of champagne that I picked up from one of the many trays that were circulating.
I sneaked up on her from behind and whispered, ‘Hi, sexy!’ She jumped and slapped my arm in mock anger.
‘Thank you, baba,’ she said as she took the champagne from me and took a sip. ‘What are you celebrating? Why this fancy party suddenly?’ Her tone seemed a bit too casual.
‘And how come you stayed back? You hate parties. How come you’re hanging around for this one?’ I countered, narrowing my eyes.
‘What? I love parties …’ she replied quickly.
‘Ma asked you to check Avani out, didn’t she?’
‘I need to send her one picture of your girl and I’m out. This is too loud already.’ She rolled her eyes and took a sip from the flute, not even attempting to fib. I laughed and shook my head while she linked her arm into mine.
‘Is she here yet? Which one is she? I hope none of those squeaky ones there …’ she said, eyeing the group on the balcony with a disappointed look.
‘She’s not …’ I began, and then the doorbell rang.
Avani
Don’t get drunk.
The doorman let me through a set of giant glass doors into a fancy lobby, and I gave the receptionist my name.
She ticked it off a list on her desk and nodded.
I perched nervously on a sprawling velvet sofa, waiting for Martin and tapping my foot nervously on the shiny marble floor.
A couple walked in and went straight into the elevator.
The girl wore expensive golden heels.
The guy had on a velvet dinner jacket that matched the sofa I was sitting on.
When they opened their mouths to speak, all the suspicions I had were confirmed. They were Gujarati.
‘Sorrysorrysorrysorry! My Uber cancelled and I had to walk from the store,’ Martin rushed in, huffing.
‘It’s fine. I just got here. I’m glad you came.’ We started walking to the elevator.
‘Madam?’ The doorman called out to me. ‘The one on the right.’
Martin and I exchanged confused glances, then, thanking the doorman, walked to the elevator on the far right of the lobby. Entering, I turned to press 19, only to find that there was no 19. Or any other number, for that matter. There were no buttons at all. What kind of lift was this?
The liftman, who had clearly anticipated our predicament and was hovering around, peered in and said, ‘Apologies, Madam. Raina residence?’
‘Yes, please,’ I said, glancing at Martin.
‘So fancy,’ he mouthed while fanning himself with his fingers.
I looked down and chuckled as the liftman stepped in and pressed no button at all.
The lift doors shut and then opened in what seemed like half a second.
We’d reached the nineteenth floor.
Thanking the kind liftman, we stepped out into what looked like a lavish lobby before we encountered a massive wooden door with the name plate: RAINA’S.
I stood in front of the door, listening to the faint laughter and music coming from inside.
‘They’ll like you, Ani. If they don’t, there’s something wrong with them,’ Martin said, nudging my shoulder with his.
I let out a big breath, rolled back my shoulders, straightened my kurta and rang the doorbell.
You know how I had crushed on his black button-down shirt on the night of the happy hour? Yeah, scratch that.
Because there was a new button-down shirt tonight and this one won hands down.
Shorter sleeves, more biceps, draping the broad shoulders and the rest of his frame to even more perfection, if that were at all possible.
Let’s pan up from the bottom now, like they do in the movies.
Chunky white sneakers that looked super comfy and super casual.
Very different from his usual leather dress shoes.
Baggy dark-grey pants that hung casually on his waist.
His left hand was still on the knob on the inside of the door, his body leaning on it, while his right hand held the frame of the doorway.
And, to top it all, he had a day-old stubble, and … what was this now … loose, curly hair on his head! It was always so well brushed and never out of place, I hadn’t imagined his hair to be curly.
‘You came.’ He flashed his dimples and locked his brown eyes with mine.
‘I’m glad I came too, . Thanks, man!’ Martin announced, and walked right past , leaving me standing alone in the doorway. I could hear his voice fading to a ‘Wow!’ as he moved further into the apartment.
laughed, and called over his shoulder without breaking eye contact with me, ‘Thanks for coming, man!’ He nodded in the direction of the living room.
I took a step in and, as was my habit by now when I visited people’s homes, scanned everyone’s feet. Rich people wore shoes inside their houses too … Right. So I kept mine on and followed .
He led me to the bar, where Martin had already begun chatting animatedly with a tall, rather handsome-looking guy.
‘What can I get you?’ asked, standing next to me, quite close. The music wasn’t loud, but I didn’t mind the proximity.
‘Gin and tonic?’
‘One gin and tonic, please,’ he told the bartender.
‘Jogi, you seem to have met Martin already. This is Avani.’ He pulled me closer to his side and rested his elbow on the bar. ‘Meet Jogi,’ he said, turning to me.
‘Hi.’ I waved, not sure why I was feeling so shy. This wasn’t an arranged-marriage-please-ensure-everybody-approves kind of meeting.
‘Hi, Avani. It’s very nice to meet you. I’m so glad you could make it.’
Jogi, a close friend judging by the sense of comfort he had around the space, looked like he was always on the road.
His skin was tanned, he wore a white linen shirt with beige pants that were also linen, his hair was long and loosely tied in a bun and on his wrists were many, many bead bracelets.
Didn’t look much like a Swiftie, so I assumed he was into meditation and organic teas.
handed me my drink and took a glass of water for himself, and while he and Jogi chit-chatted with the bartender, I turned to face the rest of the party and took in the space.
The living room was huge and the balcony equally large and beautifully done up.
There were multiple seating areas across both spaces, and expensive art and framed photographs, of family, vacations and dogs, hung on the walls.
A live band of three guys was playing in a corner of the room while some people chilled on the balcony.
I liked how casually there was a band here.
No massive speaker connected to someone’s phone that was being reel-scrolled even when they went to the loo.
No fighting over aux wires, no ads in the middle of playlists.
A real live band.
Two entryways on opposite sides of the living room led to long, dimly lit corridors, and a third in the left corner led to a spiral staircase. Phew.
‘Are you planning a heist? All the family jewels are in the treasure box buried under the second-floor bathroom tiling.’ ’s voice brought me out of my trance.
‘I thought the family jewels were in your pants. But I must be mistaken,’ I said casually with a shrug, taking another sip and looking up at him.
He closed his eyes and drew in a breath. ‘Walked right into that one, didn’t I?’
‘Yes, you did.’ After a pause I said, ‘, you have a beautiful home.’
‘Thanks, it’s all my parents. This’—he waved his hands at the decor pieces and artwork—‘is all Ma.’
‘It’s lovely, really. She has exquisite taste. I want to see what’s outside too.’ I took a step towards the balcony.
‘Sure. Allow me …’ I felt ’s hand on the small of my back as he led me to the balcony, which had a gorgeous view of the sea on three sides. It was warm outside, and humid, but the view was so breathtaking that it didn’t matter.
He nodded to a group of people standing in one corner of the balcony and settled on one of the two couches that were empty, patting the seat next to him.
I smiled and sat down, taking in the heavenly scent of his aftershave that had been lingering ever since I’d walked in.
He turned to face me and stretched his right hand over the back of the couch behind me. When I turned to him, I saw he was smiling.
‘What?’ I asked.
‘Nothing.’
‘You’re creepy,’ I said.
‘And you’re gorgeous.’
I rolled my eyes in mock annoyance, acutely aware that he was sitting closer than I had imagined.
‘So, tell me about everyone,’ I said.
‘You’ve met Jogi. He and I went to junior college and business school together. He is one of my best friends and sometimes my parents’ third—and favourite—child.’
‘You have siblings?’
‘Yes, an older brother, Gagan. And that right there’—he nodded towards a group of one corporate-looking guy and two smartly dressed girls—‘are Gagan’s college friends who also work with us. Akash, Meghna and Mona. They own an event management company.’
‘Who are the two girls and that guy smoking there?’ I asked, motioning towards the group that had now moved from the dining area to the opposite side of the balcony.
‘That’s Nikhil—we also went to junior college together—and that’s his girlfriend Khushi. And the short-haired girl is Mishti, Khushi’s best friend.’ He waved at them.
The short-haired girl started walking towards us the minute she saw us looking in her direction, and took a seat on the couch next to ours. ‘You must be Avani,’ she said.
Nikhil and his girlfriend had followed but preferred to stand at a distance.
‘Hi, yes. I am. It’s nice to meet you,’ I said with a smile.
‘Same here … What do you do?’
‘I’m studying to be a lawyer.’
‘Oh. I heard someone say that you were a receptionist at a bookstore or something,’ she said with a condescending air.
‘Yeah, I work part-time at Bombay Bound. It’s not too far from here.’
‘So how did you meet bachelor of the year here?’ she queried, winking at .
I could feel shift closer to me on the couch, moving his hand towards my shoulder from behind.
‘I actually saw her outside the bookstore when I was driving by and decided to walk in more than once, pretending to buy books for my niece,’ answered for me.
‘But you don’t have a niece,’ Nikhil said.
‘Exactly,’ said, looking at me.
I blinked in shock. ‘What?’
‘Guilty.’ He threw his left hand up in submission, smiling.
I shook my head in disbelief. ‘Whom did you give those books to, then?’ I asked.
‘My liftman Madhav’s daughter. She’s about the age the books are appropriate for.’
I could feel my heart bursting into a thousand tiny hearts. He had fake-bought books because I worked at the store? I leaned into him, nudging his chest with my shoulder.
‘Wow! Classic , huh? He always does these cute things when he likes people. I remember how he insisted on dropping me home after every party when we first met.’ Ah, that’s why Short-Haired Girl was so bitchy. An ex-girlfriend?
‘Yeah, only that Avani was completely sober, fully dressed and not vomiting when I met her at the bookstore,’ said with a forced smile, his tone uncharacteristically sarcastic.
I wanted to spit my drink out, but Nikhil did that for me. Which earned him a glare from Khushi before she followed her livid friend out to the living room.
‘Babyyyy!’ Nikhil called after Khushi as he stubbed out his cigarette, laughing.
‘It’s nice to finally meet you, Avani. I’ll be right back,’ he said. ‘You’ll get used to the drama now that you’re here.’ He winked at and went in to find his girlfriend.
Finally meet me? Had been talking to his friends about me?
‘And that’s why I don’t go out much,’ said with his eyebrows raised, looking towards the living room.
I nodded.
We looked away from each other, simultaneously let out a big sigh and immediately broke into a fit of laughter.
‘I’m really glad you came,’ he said, looking at me.
‘I am too.’ I shrugged lightly and downed my drink.
‘Come, I have to show you something.’ He held his hand out as he rose from the couch.
I took it, saying, ‘Can we get another drink first, though?’
‘Of course. The same?’
I nodded, and we walked to the bar, where Jogi and Martin were still chatting.
I sidled up to Martin and whispered in his ear, ‘He said he wants to show me something.’
‘Must be those family jewels,’ he replied, looking at me sideways. He had heard that! ‘I hope you wore cute chaddis like I asked you to,’ Martin continued in his usual drawl.
‘Shut up.’
I could feel a slight ball of excitement in my stomach. I knew better than to expect to want to hook up with me tonight, but the thought of being alone with him, away from everyone else, still made me nervous. The good kind of nervous.
‘Shall we?’ asked as he handed me my second drink.
‘We shall.’ I took a large sip and slipped my hand into his.
Don’t. Get. Drunk. I told myself as I followed him up the spiral staircase.
And took another large sip.
16 April 2023
Avani
Why am I like this?
I heard my phone vibrating on the bedside table.
My mouth was dry and my head hurt as though someone was pushing it through a shredder.
I opened one eye to check the wall clock.
It was a little past 7 a.m.
I groaned and managed a half turn to reach for my phone.
My head whirled wildly for a bit, but I forced myself to open my eyes.
I was in my bed.
Dressed from head to toe in the outfit I had worn the previous night to ’s party. I saw one earring on the pillow. The other I hoped was still in my ear, but I didn’t have the energy to find out. Right next to the earring was a red drool stain.
Wow, what had happened last night?
I reached out, picked up my phone and promptly switched it to silent mode. Even the sound of it vibrating against the wooden table was hurting my ears. I managed to sit up and leaned against my headboard.
Breathe. Let’s start there.
I reached out instinctively for my water bottle, always perched next to me, drank a few glugs and breathed some more.
I scanned the room. Nothing was out of place. My laundry was still lying on my reading chair, unfolded, the book I was reading sat on my desk just the way I’d left it and my plants were chilling in the sunlight by the window, as they always did.
Okay. Memory. Needed. Come back. Breathe.
I could now remember taking my second drink and walking up the staircase with to the second floor of his gorgeous penthouse.
Must have been quite a few stairs, because I’d downed my second drink by the time I’d stepped foot on the hardwood floors as I followed him to a big wooden door.
I remembered I’d been nervous, the alcohol making my brain form dirty images and my inhibitions melting away.
had opened the door and ushered me into a room that was the most beautiful home library I had seen in my life.
Wall-to-wall shelves of vintage dark wood on every side, with books organized alphabetically to make every reader orgasm on sight; the floor covered in a gorgeous maroon and bottle green handcrafted rug;
two big armchairs arranged in the centre of the room with a wooden coffee table between them that had more books piled on it and a chessboard neatly placed on one side.
Wow, and wow.
‘I knew you’d love this room.’ smiled at me as I took two steps into the library with my mouth wide open.
‘This is your library?’ I think I yelled this bit out.
He chuckled and took a step towards me. ‘Ha ha! Yes. My father’s, originally. But also mine.’
‘Fuck off,’ I gasped. ‘This is the most beautiful library I’ve ever seen. Is that a first-edition set of Dickens’s best?’ I may have been screaming at this point.
He laughed and walked towards the shelf I was squinting at (the books were placed higher than my line of sight and I was a teensy bit tipsy, as I explained). He pulled out a wheeled ladder from a hidden duct and rolled it to the shelf.
‘You have a ladder on wheels?’ I squealed, pressing both my palms together near my chest. ‘Can I ride? Please!’
He raised one eyebrow and the sexy smirk was back on his face. ‘You don’t have to ask me twice.’ He winked.
I pursed my lips and tilted my head, nodding slightly. ‘And I walked right into that one.’
He smirked and climbed two steps of the ladder, giving me the perfect view of his perfect ass. Eye-level. Right there. Up for grabs. One-arm distance away. Yum.
I must have looked at his butt for a moment too long, because when I finally snapped out of my daze and looked at him, he was looking down at me, amused.
‘If you are done checking out my ass, do you want to take this book home?’ he asked, smirking.
I could feel my cheeks flush red. I took the book from him, put my empty glass down on the coffee table and flipped the book open to take a big whiff.
Ahh. Heaven.
‘I don’t believe I’m holding a first-edition copy of The Pickwick Papers ! This is a gold mine. I can live here!’
stepped off the ladder and wheeled it back to its storage space.
‘My father loves the classics. He’s quite the collector.’ He walked towards a glass cabinet.
‘Did you spend a lot of time here too?’ I asked.
‘I did, but for a very different reason,’ he said with a glint of mischief in his eyes.
He swung the cabinet doors open to reveal a fully stocked bar, with bottles and glasses of all sizes, colours and labels neatly arranged on the shelves. ‘Gagan—my brother—and I would sneak here often when things got overwhelming. He would make himself a drink and we would chat for hours. I have good memories of this room.’
I smiled at him as he picked up my glass and fixed me another gin and tonic.
‘Do you bring all your dates to this room? Is that your move?’ I asked, taking a sip of my third drink.
‘Oh no, I have a secret sex dungeon for most dates. The library is for nerdy bookstore staff only,’ he said with a straight face.
I let out a loud snort and started browsing through the shelves.
… And that’s all I could remember now, sitting on my bed, head being hammered from the inside.
At some point I had memories of him saying something on the lines of, ‘Are you sure you want to switch to Scotch after drinking gin all night?’
I had visions of the inside of an elevator and a car, but nothing beyond that. Everything was a blur. So I picked up my phone and opened the group chat with Rhea and Maya. Martin would have told them something. But before I could type in a question, I gasped. I had about forty unread messages. About thirty of them were pictures.
Fuck my life.
I opened the first one. I was sitting on the bar with a bottle of gin in my left hand, my right hand wrapped around Martin’s neck—goofy-faced, all teeth showing.
The second one was of me behind the bar, making drinks. Very much the pro, Avani. Well done.
The third one was of me, again, engaged in what looked like drunken ballroom-dancing with a girl I didn’t remember meeting at the party.
The fourth one was of me again—this time on the balcony. Was I singing?
There were more pictures, mostly of me, trying to dance with ’s liftman and a few other people on the street.
I closed my eyes in shock.
I let out a loud groan. Why did I have no memory of this? And, most importantly, why was not in any of these pictures?
Triple-decker
Me: WTF did I do?
Rhea: She’s awake! Hahahaha! Morning, sunshine.
Maya: Ahh. The dreaded morning after.
Me: Shut the fuck up. Calling you both.
I hit the video call button on the top right corner of my screen and waited for my BFFs to laugh at me on video. Rhea answered first with a wide grin on her face. Maya joined after, looking as calm and composed as she always did.
‘Soooo? How was your night?’ Rhea sang.
I let out a long sigh. ‘Stop being annoying and tell me what happened,’ I snapped.
‘Calm down. Nothing happened. You had a great night. Clearly. Did you see the pic of you riding the duck in the children’s park?’ she said, not even attempting to hold back her laughter any longer.
‘Yeah, we weren’t there. We just heard about it this morning. You looked hot in the kurta, though,’ Maya said.
‘Oh god. How do you have these pictures? I’m going to kill Martin. I took him along specifically for this reason. I knew I would try to drink my nerves away around ,’ I said, rubbing my face with my free hand.
‘Bitch, I didn’t do shit,’ I heard Martin’s voice. But he wasn’t in this group. What was going on?
‘Martin is with you guys?’ I asked the girls.
‘Nope,’ Maya replied. ‘I’m in the car on my way to work.’
‘Nope,’ came Rhea’s reply.
What the hell? Was I hearing things now? I slowly got off the bed, still trying to get my limbs under control, and walked out to my living room.
Martin was sprawled like a blanket on my couch. The living room was a mess. There were board games strewn around—and were those knitting needles? Okay, someone needed to speak the fuck up.
‘Girls, I just found a Martin on my couch. Lemme call you back,’ I said and hung up.
‘Wake up!’ I picked up Martin’s legs that were dangling off the couch and put them on my lap as I sank into the couch. ‘Speak. What happened last night?’
He opened one eye and peered at me. I shook his legs vigorously to wake him up. He lazily sat up, stretching like a cat who’d slept for a year, and said, ‘Good morning, beautiful.’ And without answering my question, he got up and ambled towards the kitchen.
One thing about me, I’m as much an uninhibited person on alcohol as I’m a guarded one when I am sober. And I’ve not had one of these blackout nights in months, maybe years. I decided that if Martin didn’t start speaking right now, he was never going to speak again. I followed him to the kitchen and glared at him as he made coffee.
‘What?’ he asked casually. ‘I miss the Avani I met last night. She’s so much more fun than the grinch who sits at the bookstore every day.’
‘Oh my god, Martin. Just speak. What happened ?’
‘Nothing happened, bitch. You finally let your hair down and acted like the twenty-three-year-old you are. You had fun. That’s what happened.
And if you’re asking if something happened with … no, it didn’t. He just got to see the Avani who’s fun and carefree.
For all you know, it was a good thing to get drunk so early on in your little whatever-ship this is. Now he knows what he’s signing up for.’ He winked.
I hid my face in my hands. ‘Did I say anything stupid?’ I asked sheepishly. Because I knew I must have. With that many drinks in me, I was just surprised I hadn’t woken up with ’s name tattooed on my butt.
‘Not so much what you said, but what you did,’ he said.
‘Martin … WHAT did I do?’ I could feel the heat rising up my neck and to my face, and a slight numbness taking over my arms.
‘What you did was lick ’s biceps,’ he said plainly, bursting into laughter even as he moved away, out of my immediate reach.
I closed my eyes and sank to the floor.
The doorbell rang, and I felt my head start to hurt again. Martin ignored it and continued to laugh like a hyena, so I got to my feet and dragged myself to the door, making a mental note to tear off the bell box and burn it for being so loud and annoying, and yanked it open.
‘Good morning, gorgeous. Coffee?’