6. Mihir
MIHIR
W ith self-control honed over the years, I redirected my mind to the conversation unfolding before me.
This time, it was Tara asking the question. “What’s the other side of this double-edged sword, then?”
“Well, I’m glad you asked,” Sona said dramatically, and the two women shared a grin. “The benefit is that these exclusionary spaces have fostered friendships and alliances that would not otherwise be possible. Sharing your life story with a woman who commutes to and from work every day with you, finding shared joys and interests, even love that might otherwise be missing from your life; all this is possible only because men aren’t allowed in these spaces. Some, though definitely not all, are also safe spaces for transgender women, and that could be an important element in allyship. Sometimes, the invisibility it affords can actually be advantageous, and that’s what I work on. My research examines the liberatory potential of gendered public spaces and how it contributes to a better understanding of feminist and queer politics.”
“Okay, I didn’t understand everything you just said, but you are freaking awesome!” Riya declared when Sona had finished.
“Mmm,” Amrit aunty reprimanded her.
“I said freaking, not that other word!” Riya protested. When Aunty shook her head, Riya resigned with a slump.
“Riya is right,” Mom declared with a wink at the young girl. “Sona, you’re brilliant.”
Sona blushed and lowered her eyes, and my dick went berserk again.
Mom placed a hand on her arm and said, “But we’ve bothered you enough.” She looked at me. “Mihir, could you please accompany Sona to get a drink and something to eat? We have put her on the spot for far too long.”
Ah, there she was, my shrewd mother.
I gave her a knowing nod and stood. “It’ll be my pleasure,” I said to Sona. I was my mother’s son, after all, a player of the finest caliber.
But Sona wasn’t one to be outdone easily. She rose graciously and looked at Riya. “Come, Riya, let’s get something to drink,” she said to the girl and flashed me a quick smile.
I celebrated silently. We were definitely playing.
“Is she allowed to have soda?” Sona asked Amrit aunty.
The older woman smiled. “Only for tonight.” She held up a finger at Riya.
Riya rejoiced with a silent squeal of joy as we walked away from the group. “Thank you, thank you!” she said with her arms tight around Sona’s waist.
My eyes traveled there. I imagined holding that waist as I bent Sona over and pumped hard into her . Fuck , I needed to stop making up scenarios. There was scant chance this woman would end up in my bed.
“What will you have?” I asked Sona as we approached the bar.
“Anything non-alcoholic,” she said.
“And a Coke for me,” a soda-deprived Riya chirped.
“You don’t drink, or are you abstaining for fear of falling for the wrong person?” I asked cheekily, ignoring the hormone-addled teenager in our midst.
She looked at Riya, who stood clueless at the insinuation, then smiled at me. “I don’t drink.”
“That’s unfortunate,” I said and requested a whisky for me and a Coke for Riya. “In many ways, alcohol can be quite…liberating. Virgin mojito?” I offered.
“Sure.”
We got our drinks, and Riya trotted away to talk to some teenagers who’d just arrived.
I took a sip of the excellent scotch. “I hope you’ll excuse my candor, but you look hot!”
“Do I?”
“Smokin’ hot!” I said as I brought my glass to my lips.
“And that’s perhaps something you hadn’t expected?” With a tiny smile, she put her pout around the cocktail straw.
My eyes remained arrested on her lips, and aware of it, she puckered hard before stepping away. I followed her to the table with warm appetizers, where she handed me her drink and began selecting small portions from the massive spread.
“What will you have?” she asked.
“Whatever you’re having.”
“We might have completely different preferences,” she said, making a point.
“Preferences can be adjusted if the circumstances are compelling.”
She brought her doe eyes to my face. “And are they? Compelling?”
“Oh, very.”
She regarded me for a second, then blinked and returned to the buffet. “I think you are wasting your time, Mihir, and mine. I’m clearly not your type.”
“What’s my type?”
“Tall, slender, gorgeous,” she responded while placing pieces of malai tikka on her plate. “Like the woman you were just talking to.”
I seldom scampered for a clever comeback, but she had the unique knack of stumping me. Also, she was spot on. It was pretty much the shorthand description of my past few liaisons. When I remained glued to my spot, she threw her head back in a laugh.
“Here’s more,” she said, walking toward me. “Someone who’d be smitten with your powerful personality and that attractive face, perhaps with your wealth. Someone who’d worship the ground you walk on. And…”— she seductively brushed past me to reach the croquettes—“I’m none of those things.”
Except, she was everything I’d been waiting for. It had been years since I’d felt drawn to anyone like this.
“Here’s the thing, Sona.” I took a sip from my glass. “You’re just my type, beautiful, brilliant, sassy. The question is, am I your type?”
She didn’t answer me. Instead, she peered into my eyes as she took her drink from my hand. “Thank you for accompanying me, Mihir. I hope you get something to eat.”
Then she was gone, gliding effortlessly with her drink in one hand and a plate in the other.
I piled some food on my plate and joined a boisterous group, busy ribbing a newlywed. My mind kept wandering to Sona, but I kept my eyes firmly on my food because the last thing I wanted to give away was that the infamous Mihir was helplessly attracted to a woman.
Then there was that other matter. Of Tara mauling me if she knew I was making the moves on Sona. Sameer was my close friend, but he couldn’t save me from Tara’s fury. It would be an uphill task to convince her that I didn’t intend to toy with Sona. Well, not entirely. For the first time in my adult life, I found myself considering something meaningful.
When an uproarious laughter broke my rumination, I doled out my measured smile, and sipped my drink.
When the bunch dispersed for dinner, Sameer pulled me aside.
“Eyes off Sona,” he said with a firm grip on my arm. “Hands off her too.”
“What makes you think I’m interested?” I asked, holding my cool fa?ade.
“I saw you flirting with her, and let’s just say I know you well. She’s Tara’s closest friend. Don’t play with her,” he warned in a tone he had never used with me before.
Love does make one do stupid things, like trying to intimidate Mihir Seth. It was…cute.
I scoffed.
“I’m serious, Mihir.” This time, Sameer’s tone was softer, pleading. “She’s going to be in our lives forever. There’s more at stake here. Tara and I love you both, and we will all end up in a sticky situation if you charm her and then dump her in a month like you usually do.”
“Give me some credit,” I countered. “And her too. We aren’t high school kids.”
He put a hand on my shoulder. “She’s not for you, Mihir. She’s straightforward. She doesn’t play games. You will end up hurting her.”
“Calm down, dude. I won’t make a move.”
He nodded with relief.
“But I won’t stop her if she makes the first move. Then all bets are off.”
He unleashed a throaty laugh. “Since there’s zero chance of that happening, I think we’re good. Now, go get dinner if you’re planning on leaving soon.”
At dinner, I found my parents and spent some time talking to them.
“I’ll leave in a bit,” I informed them. “I need to be up early to prepare for the trip.”
“You’re making a big deal unnecessarily,” Dad said. “It’s just a birthday.”
“A milestone,” Mom reminded him. “If the kids want to celebrate you, let them. Give them the pleasure, Arvind.”
Dad’s silence was his approval. Sona was seated at a table directly in my line of sight, and sure enough, my mother caught me stealing glances at her.
“She’s brilliant, isn’t she?”
“Indeed,” I said, turning my attention to the food.
“And she’s very nice too.”
“I’m sure she is.”
“So, what do you think?”
“About what?” I asked nonchalantly.
“She’d make a wonderful partner for you.”
“What am I missing?” Dad asked, now intrigued by our exchange.
“It’s a young woman,” Mom whispered and patted his hand.
“Ah!” Dad said and smiled at me.
“We can finally hold out hope for grandchildren,” Mom said, then held up her hands. “ If you both want that.”
If I found the kind of love my parents shared, I’d marry in a heartbeat. But such relationships didn’t come along every day, if at all. They respected each other just as fiercely as they loved, and they fought even harder. When they were in the middle of a rancorous disagreement, it was difficult to imagine they could ever be in love, but that’s who they were. Their fights lasted only a few minutes, and then they went back to business as usual. It was glorious.
“Oh, what greater joy than to have a brilliant feminist scholar as a daughter-in-law.” Mom beamed. She was a badass feminist herself, an opinionated, political woman, so it was little surprise she had taken so readily to Sona.
“Mom, we’re not getting married. I met her today . I’ve known her for a day .”
She dismissed me with a wave of her hand. “You’ve had girlfriends you knew for an hour, and you’ve taken literal strangers to your bed. Isn’t that the truth?”
I wiped my mouth with a napkin. “Alright, two things. One, you know too much about my personal life. I should stop sharing with you. And two, Sona is not just another woman…”
“Oh?” A pointed look, and I realized she had trapped me.
“Touché, Mom!” I raised my glass to her. Dad laughed as Mom smiled, taking the glass from my hand and setting it back on the table.
“Stop drinking if you are going to be driving soon,” she said. “Go get some coffee.”
“I’m not drunk,” I argued but got up to fetch coffee and water. When Tara caught me on my way back to the table, I said, “Hey, I’ll be heading out soon. Need to prep for tomorrow. I’ll let Amrit aunty know on my way out.”
She nodded, but her body perked up. “Actually, could I ask you for another favor? Well, it’s actually the same favor.”
“Sure.”
“Sona’s had a long day and can barely keep awake. Can you drop her off at mine? We might be a tad late getting out of here.”
A thud in my heart. A rush of blood to my brain. “Sure, not a problem.”
I returned to my parents feeling uncharacteristically upbeat. “Are you okay driving back?” I asked them. “Who’s driving tonight? I can drop you and arrange to get your car back later.”
“I’m driving because she’s wearing a saree.” Dad glanced at Mom with love. “We won’t be long, though, will we?”
“Probably another half hour or so. You don’t worry about us.”
“Alright then, I’ll head out. I’m driving Sona back,” I said, and before Mom could react, I added, “Not a word, Mom.”
She threw her head back in a delightful laugh. A laugh so infectious it made everyone smile involuntarily. Dad and I both grinned and shook our heads in unison.