Chapter 5
Friends are devils.
ADITYA
“Yes, you, Jatin. You are to blame for this. Go socialise. Find a gym. Who fed all those ideas into my brain? You.”
Two days back, I spilt my loneliness bucket on him. Who else would listen to me? Sir Wilfred had already played a devious hand.
‘Check your package.’ I cringe at the choice of words and how my eyes lowered to the hem of Jimmy’s fitted gym shirt and stopped only at a certain point. Shit. What must he be thinking of me? At my age, I should not be perving on him.
Stop whining and blaming others when you are bubbling with excitement after he flirted back.
Yup, the younger man's attention sent exhilarating tingles through my body.
On my return from the gym, I checked myself in the mirror.
A self-indulgent, grinning man peered at me.
I should have been mature and gone somewhere else, but I acted like a teenager with a crush and signed up at the gym.
“Are you done panicking?” Jatin's calm voice irritates me, but I have no choice but to listen to him.
“This would not have happened if you had heeded my warning. How often did I tell you not to speak to those goddamn stones? But no! Mr. History-shistry would rather talk to a statue than go to a bar. Now, look what you have done. You have offended Sir William.”
“Sir Wilfred,” I correct him. Thank god we are on the phone. Otherwise, the amused twitch of my lips would have fanned Jatin’s take on my hobby.
“Irrelevant. I am sure this Jimmy Shergill in your life is some great-great-grandson of Wilfred boss sent to take revenge for corrupting the ears of his stone-faced brothers and sisters on monuments across India.”
“Stop. For once, be serious.” I roll my eyes at Jatin, comparing my gym Jimmy with the Indian actor, Jimmy.
Oh dear, when did he become mine? Am I regressing at my age? Be mature and rational. Consider your greying stubble and receding hairline for once. I say the mantra in my mind, repeating the words for the hundredth time since returning from the gym.
“So, you like him.”
Uff. Why do I put up with Jatin? “Remind me why we are friends?”
“You are attracted to him.” His mind is hurtling down a one-track railroad.
“For heaven's sake! The guy is a six-foot gym instructor with vein-popping muscles.
What's not to drool over?” Add a decent mug to the sculpted, toned body beneath the overstretched, deep-blue gym uniform.
How does a gay man resist? I have spent the week since the run-in at the park fantasising.
“But, he is a kid. Such thoughts about him are inappropriate.”
“The dude manages a gym. He must be over eighteen, and, as you said, he is gay. Addy dear, you can be his sugar daddy.” Jatin sing-songs.
“Shut up. Why would Jimmy want me?”
“Why not? You are decent-looking, though not as handsome as me. You are mature, caring, and established in your life. You, my dearest friend, are a catch. And, if you are not going to try now, how will you find someone?” Jatin pauses for a second.
“The only thing you need to find is if your Jimmy is a one-night stand kind of guy or a keeper.” He snorts on the phone. “If he is a handsome gym jock as you describe, even a one-nighter would do your grumpy ass some good.”
“Oh, please, for God’s sake, stop planting these seeds in my mind.”
In the past few days, the shovelling done by my imagination has made the ground fertile.
The song from the Hindi movie Jawaani Diwani starts playing in my ears.
Saamne yeh kaun aaya dil mein hui hulchul.
These words are perfect for the commotion the sight of Jimmy causes in my chest. Before meeting him, the lyrics of Hindi movie love songs never made sense to me.
I never had a reference point. But now, the heart wants to hum those melodies.
“J, I am scared. Why would a fine young man be interested in me at this age?”
Jatin takes a deep breath, “Addy, hiding will not help. You need people in your life. Jas and I worry about you. What if something were to happen? I am six hours away. Every relationship does not have to be about sex. Start as friends.”
“Yeah. I will. Try. To make friends.” I whisper into the phone.
“And Addy, spend more time with the living.”
“Hmm. Mmm. Sure. Thanks. I love you.” I plant a kiss on the screen.
“Yuck! Did you kiss the phone?” He gags in disgust, but the amused fondness in his voice turns into a chuckle. “Go shimmy with your Jimmy and keep me posted. Bye.”
He disconnects, leaving me staring out the window at the valley; the rare human link snapped. Jatin can only be there sometimes.
This is an unfamiliar predicament for me.
A few months ago, every few hours of social interaction made me itchy.
Post lectures, I used to run to lock myself in my room.
Drinks and bars are not my thing. I am not a party animal.
It was one of the many friction points between Shalini and me.
She was the life of any social gathering, while I had a strange marital relationship with the idiot box, revelling in historical documentaries.
I craved solitude in Delhi, which I found in this secluded stone-walled cottage on a lonely hill.
After visiting the gym at the local resort two days ago, the gaping void in my life is apparent.
The flutter in my chest returns, but I have no right to indulge in these yearnings.
Unless I clear the clutter of my past, I cannot create space for someone else.
They would have to walk on the Lego bricks of my guilt of ruining Shalini’s life and stumble around the scattered boxes of my lies.
Alone in the cottage, these strings will choke me, so what do I do for the rest of my day?
How much time can I spend listening to music or reading books?
I pick up my binoculars and walk to the first floor; I might as well enjoy the views.
Watching birds may take my mind off Jimmy.
Moving objects are better. If they are stationary, I tattle with them.
The best are birds or butterflies. Perhaps spending some time finding them will help sort out the current state of my mental gymnastics.
Amidst the thick forest, birds are challenging to find and follow; they fly along random paths, unlike buses, cars, or trucks on the road, which move in a monotonous linear motion.
Through the focused lens, my eyes scan the pine and deodar trees, but I have no luck at this time of the day.
However, a motorcycle purring on the winding road catches my ear.
I track its meandering movement on the tarred road coiled around the mountain until the hairpin turn.
A loud screech of the brakes echoes through the valley. Oh, dear. A jaywalker.
The rider steps down, puts the motorcycle on the stand, and removes his helmet. He walks to the woman, gathering the scattered plums from the fallen basket.
I zoom in and watch the two collect the produce. The man, in a body-hugging yellow T-shirt and black pants, helps the lady pull the basket over her head. They exchange a few words the man turns back. His hand sweeps the hair from his forehead before he puts on the black goggles.
“Jimmy!” I panic at the recognition. My squeak sets off the birds in the nearby pine trees and the thundering in my heart. Oh, Sir Wilfred. What spell have you cast?
***
JIMMY
“Your Professor Parimal asked about you.” Sahil has been teasing me about the 1975 Hindi comedy movie Chupke-Chupke.
Two days back, I was snooping around the internet, reading an article about Aditya.
Sahil crept up and slammed his palm on my back, startling me out of my concentration.
He scoffed at my alibi for doing a background check on a client, but joined me in reading the blog by one of Aditya's students. Half of which we did not understand.
Aditya looked sexy as hell in the accompanying photo, standing in front of the podium delivering a lecture.
The stiff collar of a crisp white shirt peeked out of the sea-green cardigan hanging snugly on his shoulders.
The fawn chino completed the dynamic. Sahil latched on when I made a joke about Professor Aditya.
We debated which actor matched Aditya's face — yesteryear star Dharmendra, who played Professor Parimal, or R. Madhavan from Tanu weds Manu.
“He is not mine, so stop making those references. What if the Professor hears you joking around?” Sahil must be reined in.
He may blurt something out in front of Aditya.
“Even if I wanted, would a professor be interested in a high school pass-out?” I never got the chance to go to college.
My cousin’s betrayal still causes the bile to sour my entire being.
The sordid drama of deceit and lies is a scar no one in my new life will ever see.
“He could be. But not if you keep avoiding him.” Sahil calls me out on my absence.
On his first day, I excused myself from reporting at opening time. Aditya had chosen the 6 AM time for his sessions.
“I am not avoiding him. I had work to do.”
“You should meet him.” Sahil points to the reception, where Aditya has walked in. Sahil walks over and greets Aditya, ushering him to the cardio station. Aditya falters in his step when he sees me waving. He returns a quick smile and follows Sahil.
Damn, the guy is cute in a simple navy-blue t-shirt and black shorts. You have clients, Jimmy boy; sporting a boner in the gym would be indecent.
Abhay arrives and saves me. We get busy with the workout. An hour and a half later, I direct him to finish his cool down stretches and walk to the food station to grab my breakfast. Aditya is sitting with Sahil, sipping his post-workout shake.
“Join us.” Sahil waves me over as I go to sit away from them. The fool is smug at his machinations. His quick exit confirms my suspicion.
“I will leave you two to enjoy the morning. My next client is due about now.”
“Would you like to eat?” I offer Aditya the boiled egg salad I carry to the gym each morning.
“Mm, no, please.” He wipes his lips with the back of his hand. “This is more than enough at this hour.” He wiggles the shaker.
Silence descends, making things more awkward. “How are things working out with Sahil?” I guess talking about the gym routine is a safe topic.
“Sahil is wonderful. The post-workout aches bothered me, but he showed me some stretching exercises. They did wonders to ease the soreness.”
“Great. I am happy you are gelling with him. He is our best trainer.”
Aditya finishes his shake and begins packing his bag. My heart skitters at the end of another brief encounter. I want to know this man, but how can I keep him here? “A birdie told me some Professor was searching for me.”
Aditya rolls his eyes, “I am not a professor.”
“Well, sir, if you say so.”
“I am not your sir.” He wriggles in his seat before blurting out. “Addy should be enough. Sir makes me feel old.”
Is he giving me a signal? I test the waters. “Okay. Addy is cool. So, do you want to grab a drink sometime?”
“I don't drink.”
Well, that’s a sharp snub. But I am not one to give up. “How about a hike on the Kasar Devi temple trail this weekend?”
Aditya gulps, watching my face, the conflict visible in his eyes
“Okay. Where do we meet?” His whispered response thrills my heart.
“I will be at your cottage at 5.30 AM.” Goddess willing, I will get a chance to see his home.
“Should be good enough,” he agrees.
“What if there is a change of plans?”
“You have my number on the form. Message me.”
I do a mental fist pump for the opening he has given me.
“Those forms are official, but this trail tour is personal.” I push my phone toward him, putting on my most charming smile.
“Personal?” His eyebrows rise.
“Yeah. You and me. And the valleys.” I wink at him.
He lowers his head as he goes to pick my phone, but fails to hide his smile. “Here. I have sent a message to my number.”
“Great. Will call you soon.”
I would not miss this opportunity to connect with this gorgeous man. Aditya bids me a hasty goodbye and leaves, as Sahil walks in.
“Someone is happy.”
Shit, Sahil catches my goofy grin watching Aditya’s departing ass.
“You sure move fast. Got yourself a date?” Sahil grabs his banana shake and joins me at the table. “Aditya sir is a nice guy. Treat him well.”
“Stop eavesdropping like a neighbourhood aunty.” I mock him in fake indignation before checking in on my hunch. “By the way, why are you calling him ‘Aditya sir?’”
“Why? We never discussed how to address him, but he never objected.” Sahil busies himself with his breakfast.
Hmm, so Sahil can call him sir, but not me.