Chapter 12
— NILAY —
Nilay slipped his phone inside his pocket and unbuttoned his cuff, rolling his sleeve up while Rajiv reached for the BP machine he had kept ready on the side table. He got to his feet.
“I just had my smoothie.”
“You are still having it?”
“Doctor’s orders,” he sat down on the sofa as Rajiv started cuffing his arm, dark bushy eyebrows furrowing down at him — “Since when do you listen to doctor’s orders?”
“I always listen to doctor’s order.”
The quiet hiss of his pump, the fall of the mercury on his machine and the tick of his stethoscope. “120/80.”
Nilay slapped his thighs and got to his feet. He had stopped panicking now every time the reading was taken.
“Ritu said it would hold now that the reports are good.” He pulled his sleeve down and began to button his cuff. He had also temporarily given up on wearing cufflinks, his one secret obsession, to make it easier for daily BP checks.
“Dr. Kaapadia became Ritu?” Rajiv packed his machine. “Since when?”
“It was weird to call her Dr. Kaapadia outside of the clinic.”
“Lo, he is meeting his cardiologist outside of the clinic now.”
Nilay shut up, making Meena Bhabhi’s tinkling laugh even louder in their spacious home.
“Dr. Shravan is my cardiologist.”
“Then why meet Ritu?” Rajiv grinned.
“You said she is one of the best on the East Coast for non-invasive…”
“I said a lot of things. When did you listen to me? Three months ago you came to me with headache after driving and I asked you to take it easy because 140/90. Did you listen? Last year when you had jaundice, I told you to take your dose exactly on time. You got a relapse because you didn’t. Did you listen? When…”
“Fine, fine, I did not listen. This time I am listening.”
“To Ritu.”
“Thank you, Rajiv. I need to get going.”
“At least have some breakfast, Nilay! It’s upma…”
“I’ll come back.”
“At dot 9 tonight,” Rajiv laughed. “If he doesn’t get his BP checked by Ritu.”
————————————————————
The Nilay Patel House of Couture was his India flagship store located in the prestigious lane of Juhu Scheme, now rebranded JVPD.
When he had bought this piece of land seven years ago, it was worth the value of gold.
Now, it was worth the value of gold, oil and dollars combined.
With the real estate appreciating in Mumbai, especially in this area of the suburbs thanks to a mass movement of Bollywood, production houses and PR agencies, the value of his property had skyrocketed.
Doubly so because it was just three storeys — the ground floor for the store, the top two for his workshop and office.
Developers had been knocking on his door for rights to redevelop this already immaculate property, bring it up to triple its FSI and rent out the spaces he didn’t need.
Nilay had held steady. It was not a great business decision to reject the real estate wave in Mumbai.
But from a brand perspective, it was the right bet — to keep this building under his brand name.
Retain its flagship value that tied it to panache, luxury and singularity.
He parked the car in his designated space right outside the entrance.
He was known to park anywhere and throw his keys to the valet.
Now, he didn’t find any joy or rush in doing that.
His heart scare had brought a lot of his life and his living into perspective.
Or maybe it was a certain cardiologist who was pulling him down the pegs he had notched in his own rise?
“NiP, hi! Good morning!” His assistant, Kedar, stood ready with an iPad and a mug of green tea.
He took the mug and checked for the concentration. The inside of the mug was painted deep olive.
“Do I need to buy space on Outdoor to reiterate that I need my mugs white?” He held it up.
“Sorry, sorry…” Kedar floundered, taking it back. “This is from your collection, NiP.”
“I asked you to bring my green tea in whites only.”
“It’s white from the outside.”
Nilay could go on and play a game of sarcasm until the man was weeping. He didn’t have the inclination to do so today. He wanted to get his morning’s work over with so that he could think in peace about how to best contact Ritu.
He walked inside the store to the sales staff cleaning.
Silent nods and nervous smiles buzzed around him.
Nothing new. Unless he was briefing Sales on something, which was as rare as the blood moon, they did not talk to him.
He liked it that way. He wasn’t a man meant for Sales.
He couldn’t be a ‘Yes man,’ woo the client or wax poetic about their beauty to sell his piece.
He had not wooed his investors either. They had wooed him. The world wooed him.
Except one.
He stepped inside the elevator with Kedar beside him and it reminded him of another elevator in Patan. He smirked.
“Are you ok, NiP?”
“Do you have a death wish?”
“You are smiling.”
He turned his smile on Kedar — “I am without my morning tea, what do you think?”
“I’ll… I’ll get you one in a white mug.” He ran as soon as the doors opened on the top floor.
His workshop space was still deserted. None of his designers came this early.
That gave him time to review his own work in peace.
He liked to create at night, then look at it objectively in the light of day. Alone.
Nilay walked to his office when faint lilts of music caught his ears. He followed it and reached the source at the far corner.
“What are you doing?”
The young woman startled up. She was sitting with her back to the glass window, hair disheveled, probably in last night’s clothes, playing music. He didn’t know her.
“Who are you?”
“I… I work for your Creative Team, sir… I meean NiP. Hi,” she shot to her feet, trying to smile.
“At 8 in the morning? My Creative Team does not know what the sun looks like.”
She let out a laugh. Then clamped her mouth shut — “Sorry… I pulled an all-nighter curating the list.”
“What list?”
“The rain list.”
“Right. Go home.”
She glanced at the clock. “If I go home now I won’t be able to come back on time.”
“Go home and stay home.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to stay back, I got late and I…”
“It’s not an imposition. Take the day since you pulled an all-nighter. Send me the list before you leave.”
Nilay did not wait to acknowledge the light in her eyes. He wasn't here to dilute his image. He wasn't a tyrant, but he wasn't a softie either.
He IDed his palm print on the lock outside his office and the doors popped open.
This space was forbidden for most of his team since it housed his originals, under-designs and source materials.
Trade secrets, so to say. He had heard the lower-level designers gossip about how it housed a king-sized bed and some seriously kinky stuff that they dreamed up from the trashy novels floating around in women’s fiction nowadays.
They thought he brought men here, and now apparently women too, in order to become his muses, and more. He let them believe it.
It was really an open space with a wide work desk, a wall-to-wall glass wardrobe and mannequins with different pieces in multiple stages of completion.
At the back, where most of his staff didn’t even know a room existed, his fabrics and inspirations lived.
His own collection. They were things he had picked up on his travels, paintings that invoked his creativity, materials he had ordered in small batches for his baseline work.
If they set, he went in for bigger consignments.
Currently, most of those had been delivered from GK Textiles. For his latest collection.
His laptop pinged with an email and he sat down on his chair, the full glass window stuck to the desk bringing in bright sunshine. He glanced over the email. Rain songs. His mind was stuck on Fiza. He had listened to it on loop while driving here. And Eureka!
Nilay minimised the email and reached for his mobile.
NiP
Good morning
He winced. Was he in school? Wishing his teacher? Deleting it now would look wimpy. He was anything but that.
NiP
How’s the tapori voice this morning?
He winced again. Idiot. You don’t know how to talk to a girl? Forget flirting, this is borderline insulting. He went ahead to delete it when she popped online.
DR. RITU KAPADIA
Typing…
He waited, knocking his phone on the surface of his palm.
DR. RITU KAPADIA
Ready for its golden jubilee concert
He grinned.
NiP
I’d like to attend
DR. RITU KAPADIA
Freshly sold out
NiP
Good thing I bought season tickets last night
His stomach began to flutter. It felt like he was a teenager. He had never done this as a teenager.
DR. RITU KAPADIA
You are lame
NiP
I thought I was obnoxious
DR. RITU KAPADIA
That too
NiP
Why are you awake so early in the morning?
I thought Maya moved you out to let you sleep in
DR. RITU KAPADIA
I was sleeping
Then you texted
And disturbed me
NiP
Go back to sleep
DR. RITU KAPADIA
As if
NiP
Want to go to Juhu Beach for a walk in the sand?
DR. RITU KAPADIA
Don’t you have work?
He looked around, and realised he was at work. What was happening to him? His door beeped and he saw Kedar on the screen, waiting with his green tea. In a white mug. He buzzed him in, texting back.
NiP
That’s my cue
I wanted your help though
DR. RITU KAPADIA
How many tests are you getting done?
NiP
This one’s for my campaign
More songs needed
DR. RITU KAPADIA
I can send them to you
NiP
The brief has changed slightly
Can I come and explain this evening after work?
She did not respond. Fuck this. Had she called him out? Was she about to block him? He started typing to preempt the block attack when her message popped.
DR. RITU KAPADIA
Sure
If you are coming post 7 then have dinner
He grinned. He had planned to go to her the moment he finished here, which he was trying hard to do by 5. But if post 7 meant dinner then he would land at her door at dot 7.01.
NiP
Done
“NiP?”
“What?” He barked.