30. Sujit
SUJIT
I t wasn’t a weekend I was looking forward to. Aarti was better, but I still didn’t want to leave her side. Or rather, I didn’t want to leave her .
But everyone in my family had called to confirm I was coming to lunch on Sunday.
I had expected calls from Amma and Cathy, but when Nanna and Srijan called, I knew it was a siren for deep trouble.
Then my nieces called, courtesy of Cathy, to remind me how much they were looking forward to seeing me that weekend.
This time, Imran refused to let the car service drive me.
I was already feeling coddled and claustrophobic, but Imran insisted that it would be best if he drove me on Sunday.
Lacking the energy to fight back on another front, I assented.
He insisted that he was thinking of visiting his cousin anyway, and this would be a perfect opportunity.
“You’ve had a tough week, Boss,” he said as we approached my parents’ home in the quaint town of Princeton.
My father had retired from the university, but they hadn’t felt the need to move away from the town. That both their sons lived within reasonable driving distance was one of the reasons, and they were surrounded by family up and down the state.
“Kanna!” Amma squealed per her usual happy demeanor, although I didn’t miss the tense look she exchanged with Cathy as I crossed the threshold into the house.
My nieces came hurtling toward me. “My little rabbits!” I said, grabbing one in each arm and giving them a warm embrace.
“Your rabbits are now turning into clever foxes,” Srijan said, giving me a hug.
Nanna gave me a pat on my back. “It’s been too long this time, Sujit,” he said.
Cathy was the last one to smile at me.
“Hi, Suj,” she said.
“Come on, Cath,” I teased. “You can do better than that.” I took her in my embrace and hugged her like we usually did.
Srijan smirked. “You’re in big trouble,” he whispered near my ear as we all headed inside the home.
“I know, Padma warned me,” I whispered back, and he chuckled.
Lunch was no different than usual. Laughter, chatter, and silly jokes from the girls. Now that the older one was in the fifth grade, everything was dramatic. A lot of things were “sus,” and most of the boys in her class had become “so annoying.”
Not to be left behind, the younger one shared tales of playground politics and allegations of favoritism by teachers.
“Eat your food,” Cathy kept reminding them intermittently, and they harrumphed each time before deferring to her instruction.
It was late afternoon when the girls finally disappeared into Dad’s library.
It was their favorite place in the home.
Dad and Amma had curated a special section for them over the years, with their own personalized reading nooks, complete with comfortable oversized recliners for both.
The girls were their first grandchildren, and their only ones, they suspected.
I chuckled at their conviction as Srijan handed me a whisky he’d poured for us. Cathy had refused. Dad and Amma didn’t drink, but instead of retiring to their room, this time they joined us in the family room.
Amma said something to Cathy in Tamil. I didn’t understand the language.
Amma spoke both with equal ease, so it was very convenient when Srijan fell in love with Cathy, whose family was from Tamil Nadu.
Now the mother-in-law and daughter-in-law had their own secret language, which worked excellently to exclude the men of the family.
Dad didn’t speak Tamil, but I suspected he’d learned a few terms over the years.
He chuckled at Amma’s words, and she threw him a quick reprimanding look.
“All right, let’s get on with it, then,” I said to Cathy.
Cathy frowned with annoyance that she had lost the upper hand in the conversation already.
“If you know why you are here, then you also know what I’m about to say,” she began.
I nodded and took a slow drink.
“It’s not healthy, Sujit. You are smarter than this.”
“Please elaborate,” I said, mainly to vex her, but I also wanted to get an insight into what exactly it was that I was doing wrong.
Cathy looked at Amma and said something. Amma nodded and said to Dad in Telugu, “It’s best if we let the kids talk alone.”
Dad sighed as he lifted himself out of the chair and gave me a reassuring nod. I nodded back.
“Srijan,” Cathy ordered and my brother took off just as swiftly.
“Well?” I said when I was alone with Cathy.
“Look, Sujit, you know I’ve loved you like a little brother.”
“Yes, I know.”
“So let me tell you that what I’m about to say comes from a place of love and concern, not judgement.”
I nodded and placed my whisky tumbler atop a coaster on the glass table before me.
“Aarti is not Tara,” she said.
“She definitely isn’t,” I reassured.
“She’s not a substitute for Tara either. She walked into your life when you were reeling from hurt, pain, and humiliation. You met her when you had received the invitation to Tara’s wedding.”
Her words gave me pause. “How did you know about the invitation?” I asked softly, fending off shame and embarrassment.
She sighed. “Devi mentioned it inadvertently. She didn’t know we weren’t supposed to know. Everything goes to her desk first, remember? She thought I knew. Otherwise, I wouldn’t doubt her discretion one bit.”
I’d never doubted her discretion either.
“Why did Tara send you the invitation, Suj?” Cathy asked with concern.
I shifted back in the chair and reclined against the back. “Because when we parted, I said we would be friends. This is her way of showing she still cares about me and wants me to be a part of her life. She wants me to be happy for her.”
“Are you happy for her?”
“Absolutely. I wouldn’t wish her anything but happiness.”
“Are you still in love with Tara?”
I laughed. “At this point, it seems all of you are more obsessed with Tara than I could ever be.”
“Don’t deflect. Answer the question.”
I put my ankle over my knee and leaned back in the chair. “If you’d framed that question differently, the answer was yes.”
“Differently how?”
“I love Tara as a person. I care about her. I respect the choice she made for herself. But I am no longer in love with her, if that makes sense.”
“That’s psychobabble.”
“That’s the reality of human emotions. Tara brought joy to my life. She taught me how to love, how to have fun. She made me laugh?—”
“She also made you cry, dear brother,” Cathy argued.
“She did, but not with malice. She was distraught too. I cannot not give her the benefit of the doubt just because she put her happiness before mine. That’s everyone’s right, isn’t it? How can I hold a grudge against her for that?”
“So where does that leave you?”
“With the ability to love others.”
“Do you love Aarti?”
I smiled wide. “Well played, Cathy. There’s a reason I liked you since the first time Sri introduced us.”
That made her grin.
“And your answer is?” she prodded.
“You already know, but the answer is yes, I admire Aarti deeply. She is strong, assertive, and savvy. She knows how to run her business.”
“That’s called transference. Classic transference.
Tara was also strong and assertive. She was independent and savvy.
You can’t have Tara, but you see Aarti, who reminds you of what you had with Tara, and you project your feelings onto her.
So, you take your friendship with Aarti and turn it into the feelings you’ve repressed for all these months. ”
I roared with laughter and picked up my whisky. The ice was melting, and so was my patience with this conversation.
“If that isn’t classic psychobabble!”
“That’s psychological insight,” she cried with exasperation, “not psychobabble.”
“Then let me put your mind at ease. Number one, I have no repressed feelings. I have allowed myself the time and space to grieve and heal. Number two, I know exactly how I feel about Tara and about Aarti. I am not seeking solace in Aarti’s arms just because our exes sought solace in theirs.
And number three, to keep comparing Tara and Aarti is to do a disservice to two unique, phenomenal women, whose existence is neither defined nor circumscribed by the men they choose to associate with. ”
She shook her head as if to clear her thoughts. “But you do have deeper feelings for Aarti. You can’t deny that.”
“Now, that is a completely different conversation, and I’m afraid our time is up.”
She grinned at the joke but instantly said, “Hold on, this was exactly the line of conversation I was trying to have.”
“I disagree. You were trying to gauge if I saw Aarti as a substitute for Tara, and we have just established that I don’t. You were trying to figure out if I was thinking straight, if all this was unhealthy for me. We also determined it isn’t. I think that concludes our conversation, does it not?”
“Sujit,” she reproached sternly, but I merely sipped my whisky in response. “This whole idea is too close to your hurt for you to be comfortable with it. I refuse to believe you don’t think of Tara when you’re with Aarti.”
“I don’t.” I met her eye with conviction. “I’ve never thought about Tara when I’m with Aarti. Not in the way you imagine, anyway.”
I looked at her and saw the concern on her face.
Cathy was thrilled to meet Tara that evening at the surprise party.
She had loved Tara and was glad she was getting a sister-in-law who was as strong-headed and ambitious as her and who could eventually become her friend and confidant.
So when it crumbled at the end of that day, she took the utmost umbrage. She was hurt for me and for herself.
She was hurt for my parents, who she thought were left humiliated and deserved better.
Mostly, I suspected, she was angry at me for being so gullible that I didn’t know a heartache was imminent in my future.
Whatever her reasons, she was profoundly upset.
She had wanted to call Tara and express her displeasure, but of course, I wouldn’t allow it.
This wasn’t like a traditional arrangement of marriages where one’s family is humiliated when the girl refuses a match.
The problem had been between Tara and me, a fact Cathy refused to accept easily, Not after you introduced her to your family!
As if women can’t change their minds after having met their partner’s family.
“All right, then, let’s talk about the optics. This is scandalous for someone in your position. You aren’t just an ordinary man, not anymore. Not since you shot into the echelons of the rich and the famous.”
“You know I detest that word.” Optics , I always hated the way it was used these days. For the engineer in me, optics was a field of study, a very interesting one. I was resentful of what it had been transformed into in the American jargon.
“I know,” she consoled. “But it is the truth. Unsavory, but the truth. The reality of being in the public eye.”
“That’s what Aarti’s brother said to her,” I whispered as I returned my glass to the same spot on the coaster, adjusting to set it parallel to the edges of the table.
“What?” Cathy, now intrigued, sat up with rapt attention.
“That it was embarrassing, it wasn’t right.”
“That’s what I am saying! It isn’t right, at least not for families so vividly in the public eye. And despite your arguments and convictions to the contrary, I think it is also very unhealthy.”
I paused for thought.
“When the newness fades away, when the excitement wears off, you’ll be face-to-face with this reality, Suj.
She will always be Sameer’s ex to you, and you’ll always be Tara’s to her.
The Tara that broke your heart and the Sameer that stomped on hers.
The public humiliation that you both dealt with will resurface when you’re done with this initial attraction.
And if your relationship becomes public, when this is over, you both will face the same humiliation all over again.
You’ll never rid yourselves of their shadow. Never .”
This was also why it irked me that Cathy was smart. She had the knack of showing you the mirror exactly how it was, no matter how dusty or bloody.
“Suj,” Cathy said with a hand on my arm as I got off the chair.
I nodded. “You’re right. Say bye to the girls for me,” I said and left without a word to anyone else.
Imran started the engine when he saw me walk out and was about to rush over to open the car door for me. I waved him to stay put and came around. Slamming the door with some rage, I signaled him to go.
“Are you okay, Boss?”
I didn’t have to look in the rearview mirror to see the concern in his eyes.
“Yes, Imran. Everything is good,” I said rather curtly, then added, “Thank you for driving me today. I appreciate it.”
He nodded as I placed a call to Devi. It was Sunday, but we never cared about weekends since our startup days.
“Yes, Boss,” she answered in a chirpy voice. Sunday was when she spent quality time with Kitty, and I felt slightly guilty about encroaching on it.
“Just a quick thing, set up a call with Vinay first thing tomorrow.”
“Vinay Rathod?”
“Yes. First thing tomorrow,” I repeated and disconnected without pleasantries.
My parents had raised me to be kind, but I was never meek. Even when I was deferential, I was never meek. My friends knew this, as did my competitors. Now, it was time to unleash this side of me for everyone else to see.
As I felt the world closing in on me, I was certain of two things.
One, I really, really liked Aarti. She had made her way into my heart and deservedly so.
I wasn’t going to give up on the possibility of us without a fight.
The question was, did she like me enough to stand up against her family, her father, for me? Only she could answer that.
And two, whatever my equation with Aarti, whatever our future held or did not, I wasn’t going to let Manoj have his way. Not this time.
I was on a warpath, and this was just the beginning.