28. Aarti
AARTI
Y es, I said it, and I didn’t regret it. Sujit was the best thing that the universe could have thrown in my path after having devastated me with the Sameer situation. Life has a strange sense of humor, I had thought upon seeing him that first night. Of all the gin joints in all of the towns…
But apparently, life also has a semblance of kindness, for of all the people that could have walked into my life at that precarious time, he did.
Ethically balanced, I had called him. The way he stood up for me, respected and protected me, I had never expected nor needed.
And then, there was the thing unsaid between us.
Just a touch, a nod, and he could reassure me.
I could communicate an entire gamut of my feelings with just a squeeze of his arm, and he understood it all.
I knew I had fallen hard for him, but how could I get rid of the baggage that came with this particular desire? How could either of us?
Quickly changing into my night cami and shorts, I wiped all trace of makeup and placed a call to Mom.
“Hello, Beta,” she answered on a single ring.
“Sorry, Ma, were you waiting for long?”
“Not long,” she replied, but her sleepy eyes said otherwise. “Just wanted to see how you were doing…tonight, I mean.”
“I’m alright. I had scheduled a meeting to get my mind off…it,” I lied to my mother with a straight face. Love makes us do stupid things, but shame makes us do worse. Which one was it that was compelling me to lie, I wondered.
“Good. Everything will be okay soon, and you can return. I miss you, you know. More than I thought I would,” she said.
“I miss you too, Ma. I am glad you have Jia, at least. Do you get to share things with her now?”
“Yes, it’s better, but she’s a new mom, and she’s going through her own stuff. I do get lonely.”
“Sorry I’ve been busy. Do you get to see your friends, though? It must be very awkward.”
“My friends have been surprisingly supportive. The Mathurs didn’t want to go to the wedding on our account, even though they were invited. I persuaded them to go. Their relationship with the Rehanis is their own.”
Mathur Aunty was Mom’s oldest and best friend. Her daughter Anju was my friend, although we weren’t as close as our mothers.
“I’m glad, Ma. It’s overblown, anyway. Mine wasn’t the first public breakup, and it won’t be the last.”
Mom smiled. “I’m glad to see you’re taking it so positively, Beta. I have been worried about you.”
“Don’t be. You know I am the happiest when I’m working.”
“Yes, but you used to get some downtime here. I’m worried you’re probably overworking yourself there.”
“I’m not, and I’m eating well, and I go out too. Don’t worry.”
“Beta, about that,” she said and looked around her, probably to make sure she was alone.
“Yes, Ma?”
She dropped her voice. “Aakash told me he talked to you.”
I nodded.
“About Sujit Rao,” she whispered as if it was taboo to even utter that name.
I sighed audibly.
“Satish doesn’t know, and he should never find out. For his sake and yours.”
“Why is it wrong, Ma? Why is it so bad to be friends with someone who went through exactly the same thing I did? Who knows exactly how I feel.”
Bright that my mother was, she cut through the BS. “Is it only friendship?”
“It was a business association, if you need to know. I wasn’t interested in telling Aakash this, but I’ve been helping Sujit look for a place for a new project he has in the works.”
“In one of our buildings?” Mom’s eyes bugged out. “Beta, that is a bad decision. A very bad decision. You know you won’t be able to hide it from Satish forever.”
“I’m not trying to hide anything,” I lied again, this time struggling against both guilt and shame. I was trying to hide every single emotion I felt for Sujit from my family.
The gratitude I felt toward the universe for its kindness seemed to be dissipating fast.
“And when your father learns?”
“I learned to deal with this whole situation, didn’t I? Maybe others can too,” I cried, bitter from fighting the constant battle. “And did he tell you he was talking about my marriage without consulting me? Did you talk to him about that?”
Mom sighed in consolation. “I did, Beta. I didn’t know, and when he told me, I asked him to stop.
But you should cut him some slack, my darling.
You know Satish took it the hardest. He stood up on that stage and declared to the world that he trusted Sameer.
It was more than hurt for him. He believes Sameer besmirched his name, his trust. He lost face because now it was for the world to see his error in judgement. ”
“I know, Ma. I understand.”
“And you have been his pride and joy. He is deeply angry for you. He knows how much you are hurting, and he’s not inclined to forgive that family in this lifetime at least.”
“But what does Sujit have to do with any of this? Isn’t he also the injured party like me?”
“Yes, Beta, but he was Tara’s boyfriend. He’s already tainted by association in his eyes.”
“Ma, he consoled me when I was at my weakest. I sat across from him and promised that I’d help him find a space for his new project, and I am not going back on my word.”
Mom sighed in defeated resignation and ran a hand over her forehead. “You are khuddar like your father.”
“But this is more than self-respect and honor, Ma. This is about giving him his due respect too. I was in very bad shape when I came here, you know that. I am in a better place now because of him. I am just repaying his kindness like he deserves.”
“Oh, Beta!” Mom sighed.
“Am I wrong, Ma?”
“No, my darling, but make sure it’s only kindness and nothing else.”
“What else could it be?” My lies had gotten significantly bolder over the course of this short conversation.
My perceptive mother dropped the subject and consoled me instead. “You will find comfort and love again, Aarti. You don’t have to go looking for it immediately. Take your time to heal. Become your old self again, and you will see I am right.”
I nodded. I wasn’t going to argue with her, especially when every word out of her mouth was the truth. I was also very tired. I had just spent the most wonderful evening with an incredible man and now I was working hard to lay it on thick how much he didn’t mean to me.
Perhaps it was the cumulative effect of it all—the excessive workload, the emotional turmoil, and the blatant lies I had been feeding my family—that I took to bed that week.
I had set aside Thursday afternoon to show Sujit the space I had earmarked for him.
But I woke up with a high fever. I took acetaminophen and slept through most of the morning, but when I woke up around noon, the fever persisted.
The sheets were damp from my sweat and I was now shivering between them.
I texted Sujit to cancel our appointment.
He called back promptly.
“You’re not well? What happened?”
“Nothing serious. It’s just a mild fever. I should be better by tomorrow,” I said, but my teeth chattered so hard, he heard it. He also noted my broken voice.
“I’ll be right over,” he said and hung up before I could protest.
I didn’t know how long he took to arrive because the fever had knocked me out again. When I heard the bell chiming, I unlocked the door using my phone.
He rushed in and put a hand on my forehead.
“Damn! You’re hot!” he said with a concerned frown.
I grinned at his words and replied, “Thank you. I was expecting you to say that last Saturday.”
“This is no time for jokes, sweet girl. You’re burning up.”
“Ugh, it’s not that bad.”
He unbuttoned his cuffs and rolled up his sleeves. My fevered mind wandered to the dance with me swinging in his strong arms. I hummed a tune from that night.
“I want to dance with you again,” I said.
“Later,” he said as if I was a child making unreasonable demands. “Do you have a thermometer?”
“No,” I replied matter-of-factly. “I didn’t predict I was going to be sick.”
He pulled out his phone from his pocket, placed a call, and put it on speaker while it trilled.
“Where’s your linen closet? I need to change your sheets. They are damp.”
I pointed to the closet door just outside my bedroom.
The phone continued ringing while he stepped outside and pulled out fresh sheets.
“Yes, Bhai,” a sweet female voice answered the call.
Sujit came rushing back in. “Afra, I’m sorry to bother you at work, but I need your help.”
“No problem, I’m on my break.”
Sujit pulled me up and helped me into the armchair in the room while he continued talking to the woman on the phone.
“My friend is sick. High fever. My concierge doctor is out, and I don’t trust anyone else right now. Do you think you can help? Tell me if I need to get her to a hospital.”
I rolled my eyes at his question while he put a comforter on my shuddering body. He pulled the sheets off my bed and tossed them to a corner of the room without missing a beat in the conversation.
“Does she have any other symptoms? Headache, nausea, runny nose, rashes, diarrhea? Anything?” Afra inquired.
Sujit raised his brows at me. I shook my head.
“No, nothing else. Just very high fever and intense shivers.”
“How high?”
“Not sure. She doesn’t have a thermometer.”
“Is Imran with you?”
“Yes, he’s downstairs with the car.”
“All right, let me call him and give him a list of things. I don’t think we need to rush to the hospital. Give her plenty of fluids, and if she’s not throwing up, have her eat a little. I’ll ask Imran to get the rest from the pharmacy.”
“Thank you, Afra. I owe you.”
She laughed. “Arey Bhai, you can’t keep owing me for such small things. You are family. Let me call Imran right away before my break ends.”
She disengaged the call, and Sujit finished tucking in the final edge of the fitted sheet.
“Change of clothes?” he asked, and I pointed to a drawer in my wardrobe. He walked into the large closet and returned with a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt.
“Do you need help to get changed?”
I shook my head.
“I’ll wait outside.”
Without waiting for my response, he stepped out of the room and closed the door behind him.
“Done!” I called out in a few moments, my shivers having quelled a bit after changing out of the damp clothes.
He entered promptly. “Come on, get back into bed,” he directed me.
“Who was that on the phone?”
“Afra, Imran’s girlfriend. She’s a nurse. A very good one.”
“She said you are family. Do you know how lucky you are to have so many people love you this way?”
“Yes, I count my blessings every day,” he said with every bit of sincerity as he pulled the covers on me and tucked me in.
“Do you have any food in the house? Anything I can give you before I medicate you?”
I shook my head. “Sorry, my illness came unannounced and uninvited.”
He picked up his phone and began typing furiously.
“I’ve ordered soup from a nearby deli. It should be here shortly. I need to get you some rasam to warm up your insides.”
“I love rasam,” I said. “I like it with rice.”
“This one is more medicinal. I’ll ask Amma how to make it.”
Before he could run the whole scenario in his head—before I could stop him—he’d placed a call to his mom.
“I need the recipe for your pepper rasam,” he said to her.
I held my breath, waiting to see how that conversation would unfold.
Who do you need it for?
A friend.
What friend? And why are you cooking for him?
She’s unwell.
It’s a she? Who’s this friend you are cooking rasam for? And have you ever made rasam before that you think you can crack it now?
I chuckled at the look on Sujit’s face. If the conversation hadn’t exactly gone the way it had in my head, it was very close.
“No, I don’t want you to send it here.”
Silence as he listened to her.
“No, Amma, just give me the recipe.”
He blew out an exaggerated breath and said, “All right, never mind. Forget I called. I will figure out something else to give her.”
Silence again.
“Yes, Amma, it’s a her.”
Silence.
“I don’t want to talk about it right now. Please, Amma.”
He ended the call and sank onto the armchair.
“Are you in trouble?” I asked, buried under cozy layers.
He looked up at me with a smile. “More than you know.”
“I’m sorry, Sujit. I really didn’t want to inconvenience you. You didn’t need to come at all.”
“Who else do you have here to care for you if you’re sick?”
“Just you,” I said with a sigh. “But I’m not comfortable accepting help, and I hate to be a burden.”
“You are not a burden,” he said gruffly.
Gathering my clothes and the damp bedcovers from the floor, he walked out of the bedroom. In the silence of the apartment, I heard cabinet doors open and close in the kitchen, drawers sliding on their smooth bearings and the light clink of glassware.
He returned with a bowl in his hand and placed it on the side stand to help me up. He propped some pillows behind me and handed me a bowl of soup.
“This will have to do until I figure out what else I can feed you. I might have to call Afra again.”
I accepted the bowl from his hand but said, “Aren’t you being a little too dramatic about a slight fever? And don’t you have to be at work?”
“Work can wait. Health cannot.”
By the time I was done with the soup, Imran had dropped off a thermometer, a personal humidifier, some over-the-counter medicines, and electrolytes.
Suddenly, I was glad I had Sujit in my life, who had so many people who cared for him.
But I instantly wondered how much they’d care for me if they knew who I was.
Tainted by association, Mom had said about Sujit.
Wasn’t it true for me as well? Sujit’s family didn’t yet know who I was, but when they did, it would unravel so quickly.
I wasn’t sure I would be able to bear the brunt.
It could have been my fever that made me question myself and the validity of my feelings for him, but it was all right there before me, clear as day in my foggy head.
Sujit miraculously managed to get some dal and rice for me.
I didn’t ask him how. He was a resourceful man with connections.
I’d leave it at that. Plus, my brain was tired and hazy from thinking unnecessary thoughts, and I didn’t want to tax it further.
I let him feed me the warm food, gulped down a tablet, and went back into a fevered sleep.
When I woke up that evening, the sun had already set.
Sujit wasn’t in the room with me. I pulled the phone from the nightstand to check the time.
It was just past seven. Sujit had been with me since early afternoon, and I was grateful.
Feeling a bit healthier after the food and the rest, I tried to sit up.