Chapter 11
I’m Not Ashamed to Admit Kal Ho Naa Ho Makes Me Cry Like a Little Bitch
Pune, Saturday
“No more for me, thank you,” I say when I’m offered samosas for the third time.
I lean back in the Sinhas’ living room couch, clutching my stomach uncomfortably. I’ve already polished off my rasmalai, and
the rajma chawal is dangerously close to being ejected out of my body like the chole bhature at the party Thursday night.
Charu, the youngest of Priti’s three cousins, sets down the plate, ceramic clinking against glass. Aunty and Uncle are both
at work, and Rudra’s off with the other two—Varun and Jalaj—in their bedroom, gaming on their PlayStation.
“I’m done, man!” Jalaj groans.
“Wuss!” Varun exclaims. “You’re just saying that because Rudra totally took you out.”
“I’m tired.”
“So get off the battlefield and quit holding us up.”
I roll my eyes, sick of their ceaseless yelling in the background while we’re trying to watch a forgettable Hollywood rom-com.
Charu giggles, her usually wide light-brown eyes crinkling and plump cheeks resembling cotton candy.
If I’m being honest, this whole meeting wouldn’t be that bad if I weren’t sick of watching Priti whisper, giggle, and gossip
away with Digha—Varun’s girlfriend and the Sinhas’ neighbor—in the corner.
Digha’s pretty, with bangs like Priti’s—except hers are straight—wisping around a small, sharply defined face. And now I’m
discovering that she’s also Priti’s BFF. Because apparently, the moment she heard Priti was coming, she hurried over. The two have been all smiles and
girly tee-hees since we got here.
A part of me feels bitter and envious seeing Priti so engaged and happy with her paternal cousins. At Nani’s, she’s always so distant, locked up in her room and
refusing to mingle unless she has to, especially this summer. The only time we cousins meet up is when I’m visiting, so the rest of them haven’t interacted
with Priti while I’ve been away either. And, well, Priti hates me, so it ends up affecting her rapport and relationship with
the others.
I’m the reason Priti has a better relationship with her paternal cousins. I glance over to see her slapping Digha’s shoulder
as the two explode into raucous laughter over a shared joke. I’ll never know what I did that pushed her away from me and made
her resent me, but it’s not worth mulling over. There’s only so much a person can try, repeatedly, to heal a broken relationship
before they tire of it.
I swallow the hurt to stop it from spilling over and make a promise to myself to take Priti at face value.
We’re on this journey because there’s something awaiting both of us in Goa.
While I’ll never know what she’s after, we share a common goal, and that’s all we need from each other. Nothing more.
She made it clear she doesn’t want anything to do with me after this summer when she hid getting into FIT from me. So if this
road trip continues the way it’s been going . . . the only option left might be to cut myself off from her completely.
Sensing the heat of my gaze (correction: glare) on her cheek, Priti turns to me, her eyes narrowing, but she doesn’t say anything
cutting like she normally would. Of course she’d care about the impression her paternal cousins have of her—with us, she barely hesitates before spoiling the mood.
“Let’s watch Kal Ho Naa Ho,” I quickly say, picking up the remote, not too keen on having Priti embarrass me before strangers either.
“I’ve never watched that movie,” Charu says sheepishly as my mouth falls open in shock.
“You haven’t watched the most heart-wrenching KJo movie ever?”
“Um, no?”
I press play. “Your life is about to be changed forever.”
Kal Ho Naa Ho is a three-hour-long movie, so it’s past noon by the time we’re done. I don’t expect Priti and Digha to watch with us, but
they do.
Charu, Digha, and I are a sobbing mess. Priti—the stone-hearted Ice Queen that she is—rolls her eyes at us before walking
into the bedroom to ask the boys what plans they have for lunch.
When they finally join us in the hall, Rudra looks in my direction, startled.
“??? ??? ??,”* Varun exclaims, pulling Digha into a tight hug and squeezing her shoulder. He’s about as tall as Rudra, lanky, and has a
goofy smile. “Why are you crying?”
“They were watching Kal Ho Naa Ho,” Priti says, snorting.
“That explains it,” Jalaj says. He’s well-built (Charu mentioned he’s sort of a gym buff), slightly taller, and more reserved than his fraternal twin, Varun. “That movie is the saddest thing I’ve seen.” He turns to Charu, joking, “Are you sure you should’ve been watching it, kiddo?”
“I’m just two years younger than you, idiot,” Charu says.
Rudra’s smiling as he sits on the floor beside the couch I’m seated on. I frown at him. “Why are you smiling?”
He glances up at me, blinking innocently. “Who, me?”
I narrow my eyes. “Yes, you.”
“I’m not smiling. Did you like Kal Ho Naa Ho?”
“Of course I did,” I say slowly, still suspicious. “But I won’t be distracted. You’re literally smiling right now!”
Rudra props his elbow on the sofa, resting his chin on his palm and tilting his head to look up at me. He has a really nice
forearm, I suddenly notice, taut and peppered with soft hair. “Nothing, I just think I was right before. You are a hopeless romantic, though I am starting to see the appeal.”
“What?” I splutter.
“You heard me, Krishna.”
I think something short-circuits in me when he says that, because my insides are most definitely malfunctioning. Priti flops
down next to me, giving us both the stink eye, and I’m pretty sure she caught at least part of our exchange.
Charu speaks up just then, cutting off whatever remark Priti’s about to make. “Where are we going for lunch? Mumma and Papa
said we could order in or go out.”
“Let’s go out,” Digha says. “I don’t want you boys going back to gaming.”
“We wouldn’t have anyway,” Varun chimes in. “Rudra totally took Jalaj out. Multiple times. It was so fucking cool.”
Varun gives Rudra a fist bump, and all us girls exchange looks like, Boys.
“If y’all are done bromancing,” I say, “can we decide on a place?”
“Hey, what if we took them to the Mahishmati thali place?” Charu says, excitedly getting to her feet.
“Good idea, but it’s like forty minutes away,” Varun says. “We should take them somewhere closer. There are decent places
nearby.”
“But we have a big enough group to be able to finish the whole thing!” Charu insists.
Now, that’s intriguing. “What exactly would we be trying to finish?” I ask.
“You’ll see,” she says mysteriously.
“It’ll be fun,” Varun adds, nudging his brother.
Jalaj looks doubtful. “I know, and I don’t mind, but I need to be back in time to prepare for the trek.”
“Trek?” Priti asks.
“Oh, Jallu leads these treks during the summer with his group,” Varun says, grinning. “He’s guided more than fifty treks around
Lonavala already.”
“He has a certificate and everything,” Digha adds proudly. “Very legit.”
Jalaj bats away the compliments. “Today I have a group of about six college kids booked, and we’ll be taking a hired minibus
at eight p.m.”
“Isn’t that a bit late for a trek?” Rudra asks.
“It’s a midnight trek. It’s jugnu season, so we take a lot of trekkers to the points where the fireflies gather and mate in
swarms. We start at the base of Prabalmachi and get back to Pune by noon the following day.”
He takes out his phone to show us a video. My breath hitches in my throat. It’s the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen. Fireflies illuminate a tall, dark tree like strings of flickering Christmas lights.
“It’s mostly the male fireflies that emit light, in order to impress the females,” Jalaj explains.
“So they put on a whole light show for the females?” I say, clasping my hands. “That’s so adorable.”
“It rewired my brain that first time, for sure.” Jalaj shuts his eyes, a small smile playing along his lips, and I can see
just how much these treks mean to him. He speaks about fireflies the way I would about human anatomy.
“You said you’d be back in Pune by noon,” I say. “Isn’t that when you’re expecting the car back, Rudra?”
“Yeah,” Rudra replies.
“Please tell me you’re not thinking what I think you’re thinking,” Priti says. “We can’t go on the trek, Krishna.”
“Why not?” I say. “It’s not like we have anything to do but wait for Rudra’s car, and we’ll be back by noon tomorrow.”
“Well, after noon, realistically speaking,” Jalaj adds.
“We’ll be dead tired after the trek,” Priti says. “And we can’t afford to be late. We’ve already been delayed enough. Don’t
you realize we’ll be going backwards? We crossed Lonavala last night.”
“Even if we leave later tomorrow, we’ll get to Goa in time,” I insist. “Chill out, Priti. This is literally the opportunity
of a lifetime. How many chances do you get to see a view that stunning?”
“Not often,” Rudra affirms.
“Varun and I have gone before,” Charu says. “I almost didn’t complete the second leg, but Prabalmachi is beautiful. Plus,
you’ll get to camp at night and wake up to the most glorious sunrise tomorrow.”
Varun nods in agreement. “We’ll all come along with you guys. If you go, that is.”
But Priti’s lips are still pursed in doubt.
That’s when Rudra speaks up. “Let’s do it. Krishna’s right. We can’t pass up an opportunity like this. That is, if you can
accommodate us on such short notice, Jalaj.”
“Absolutely,” he says, raising a thumb. “I will need to charge you, though.”
“That’s no problem.”
I stare at Priti hopefully, knowing Rudra is the only one who can convince her to do anything at all. And to my utter delight,
she sighs, giving in.
“Let’s do it.”