Chapter 4
— RITU —
Nilay Patel’s Porsche was everything that he wasn’t — cool, calm, polished, and ready to surrender to her control.
The red interiors didn’t scream but sang the story of luxury, soft Mumbai FM radio coming to life as soon as she started the car.
The passenger door opened and he slipped in, vibrating.
“Come on.”
She passed her phone to him and he connected it to his car’s system. Maya’s voice came on as she manoeuvred the car out of the tight parking spaces arranged haphazardly around the old compound.
“Maasi, it’s better. I think I will try and get up.”
“No. Try to move first,” Ritu advised. “Left to right and the other way. Very slowly.”
“Yeah… I can. It’s hurting but I can.”
“Is MM crying?”
“No, that’s why I am worried. I need to go and see.”
Ritu glided out of the carved wrought iron gates and slipped onto the blessedly empty stretch of road. It was a holiday for most of Mumbai. She still did not press on the gas.
“M!”
“Maasi, G is here.”
“Oh good, hand me to him…”
“M, what happened?!”
“Talk to Maasi…”
“Come, get up…”
“Gautam,” Ritu stopped him. “First go check on MM. If she is ok, then let Maya be for a while. She fell and I am on my way. Ok?”
“Yes, ok.” He ended the call in panic. Ritu let go a quiet breath of relief, driving smoothly down the wide, canopied stretches.
“It’s open, accelerate!” Nilay urged.
“I’m good.”
“Seriously? Maya is hurt there and you are going at…” he pointedly eyed the speedometer. “40?”
“Sit back and relax.”
“Doctor, park on the side and let me drive. I know the shortcuts.”
“Keep quiet.”
“What’s the problem with you?”
“You.”
“Right. Put it on me when you cannot muster the courage to speed.”
“Your resting heart rate will shoot up, keep quiet.”
And then he went silent. Ritu glanced at him from the corner of her eye, certain she was looking at a completely different man. He was staring ahead, quiet like a good boy.
“Wear your seatbelt.”
He blinked, realising he wasn't wearing it. He reached for it, smirking — “God keep me safe.”
Ritu bit the insides of her cheeks, pushing the speed to 60, then slowing again to 40, taking the turns slowly and carefully, weaving through the wide green lanes she had spent her childhood in.
His body relaxed beside hers, and one part of her brain, the one that was focused on his heart, finally concentrated on navigating.
She did not need Google Maps. Mumbai was hers.
She knew its lanes and by-lanes and shortcuts like the artery map of a human heart.
“Are you from Mumbai?”
Ritu nodded.
“When did you leave the city?”
“It’s been a while.”
“You seem to remember the roads.”
“Hmm.”
“Left from here.”
“Right takes you towards Racecourse.”
“You don’t need to take that route now, take the Coastal Road. We will cross over in 10 minutes.”
“It’s opened?”
“Take the left.”
“If it’s not open…”
“You are going at 40, now 30, anyway. What would one detour matter?”
Ritu sneered, but trusted him and turned left, driving down Marine Drive.
“Keep left.”
“It’s open! That one, right?” She couldn't help but exclaim, her eyes widening at the entryway that looked like it was right out of a sunroom. The sun was streaming through the translucent tunnel dome as the road sloped down into the sea and under it.
“It should have, considering I came through an hour ago,” he quipped. His phone began to ring, and he startled.
“I am losing network soon, tell me if it’s urgent,” he barked into his phone. And he was back.
Ritu heard the snappy breaths out of his mouth as he grunted, then his colourful curse just as they went completely under and the network died.
The underground tunnel was slick and well-made, the traffic so well-behaved.
Some of America’s best roads had nothing on this.
Ritu stared enraptured, hitting the speed limit slowly.
Her ears popped, then closed, and she felt the purr of the engine under her fingers. The quiet here was something else.
“You’ve driven in Mumbai?”
“First time.”
“You know how to drive, right?”
She glanced pointedly at the steering wheel.
“Driving license?”
“They still need those here?”
His brows drew together. “If you get caught without a license, don’t expect any gentlemanly treatment from me.”
“Ok.”
“I mean it, Doctor. I am taking my car and driving away.”
“Ok.”
“You have a license.” He realised loudly.
She remained silent.
“You are messing with a man whose resting heart rate can shoot up?”
“Nothing will happen to you.”
“Is that why you weren’t speeding back there?”
She remained silent again.
“Am I high risk?”
“What is your obsession with being high risk? You want to be high risk?”
“Take a wild guess.”
“Keep quiet and maybe change your ringtone. That volume and beat are not good for the heart.”
“That will solve all my problems, huh?” He laughed bitterly.
“That’s a start. And stop being so cynical, bitter and morose all the time. That might actually solve half the problem.”
“Pot calling the kettle black?”
“Pot is not struggling with heart disease.”
“I don’t have a heart disease,” he retorted sharply, too sharply.
Ritu blinked. She glanced sideways, and he was looking out of his window — at the wall of the tunnel.
What was this man really like? An asshole of the highest order but then offering his car services in a time of emergency.
Scared of accepting his disease but constantly chattering about it.
Hiding it from the world, but screaming about it around her — even in a seemingly non-medical space such as this one.
Firing bullets at her and ready to bite her head off in her own OPD but not ready to switch cardiologists.
She thought she was figuring him out, and then he would flip.
The rat.
“What did you call me?”
“Huh?” She went back to the road, the glow of sun shining up ahead as the tunnel came to an end.
“You called me something just now, you sneered it under your breath.”
“I was thinking about the cardiologist in Juhu. Dr. Ramineni. He has a good 35 years of experience,” she stressed. “Used to run his practice with Dr. Shravan, operates in KDH and Lilavati, and, he is known for his…”
“I want to stay with you.”
“Mr. Patel…” She took her foot off the accelerator, managing the slope up and out of the tunnel with ease. The roads made it easier.
“I was referred to Dr. Shravan by Rajiv. I am not going anywhere.”
“Dr. Shravan is not here. And you do not want to be treated by me.”
“And who are you to decide that? Does my brain whisper to your brain?”
She clamped her teeth on her lip, looking at the new Mumbai in front of her in order to ignore him.
What met her eyes was a dream. The last time she had been here, Worli Seaface had been a different place.
Now, it was a marvel of bridges and highway spirals, running up and around the sea like the veins of the heart.
The shimmering Arabian sea looked pristine, sending sparkles into her eyes.
Ritu smiled at the scenery, eyeing the promenade running parallel to them.
What was this version of Mumbai and how had she not known about this?
How had Maya blabbered about everything and not this?
“You have no answer to my question, or smiling in the distance in the middle of a conversation is a personality trait?”
She wished she could close her eyes, take a deep breath and let her rage, frustration and helplessness go with a sigh as long as this man’s tongue.
Unfortunately, she had a highway to navigate, and a heart patient on her passenger seat whose presence wouldn’t allow her to race across to the suburbs and let this journey end. When will this road end?!
“Silence when you do not have an answer is another personality trait, it seems.”
“Ok, I will get off your car as soon as we cross to the other side.” Ritu reached for her mobile to start booking an Uber to pick her up from Reclamation when he snatched it off her knee.
“What are you doing?!” “What the hell are you doing?!”
“I said it first!” She retorted.
“I saw it first!”
“What?”
“Crashing to my death, if not due to my heart’s resting rate shooting up then due to my driver’s recklessness.”
“Oh please, the road is empty.”
“Then accelerate. We both might be out of our miniseries sooner.”
“Just book an Uber to Carter Road, add Reclamation as pick-up.”
“No.”
“Mr. Patel.”
“Just drive, ETA is 10 minutes. You can keep quiet for at least 5 of those, can’t you?”
“I was quiet!” She lost her cool. “Oh my god!” She yelled, becoming half Maya, half her old self. “I was silently driving and you poked me for being silent. God help me, god help me! God, help me!”
“Man, the god in your world must be so frustrated.”
“Shut up.”
“This is my car and I will not…”
“Shut up or I will not treat you.”
Silence.
Blessed, holy, sacred, precious silence.
Ritu took a deep breath and slowly and steadily accelerated.
Sudden lurches were bad for the heart, not the slow rises and falls.
She controlled the car even better now as the open, empty road launched them onto the SeaLink and across to the suburbs.
The silence in the car remained, supplying much-needed peace to her brain.
It brought back worry about Maya. If she had fallen on her back from a height…
if it was broken? A spinal injury… no, stop.
She glanced sideways again, hoping the obnoxious man would say something cutting and make her not think the worst. He was quietly staring out of his window.
They cleared the toll booth on the other side, and Ritu snapped the parking indicator.
“What are you doing?” His voice was quiet.
“I’ll be getting out here. Thank you for bringing me this far…”
His hand reached out and switched off the indicator. “Keep driving.”
Her body tautened. There was something in that voice. Soft, low, dangerous. Final.
Ritu did not take those.