Chapter Sixteen
Seoul, Korea
SecondSkin’s line of athleisure clothing has just been successfully launched. Rodrigo has walked the ramp as the showstopper, sending hearts racing and getting shutterbugs clicking!
‘Why don’t I see Baek Daepyo? This is his baby, after all. Is he all right?’ is a question that seems to be on the lips of every attendee.
Mr Choi has been asked more times than he can count on his fingers about Haneul’s absence. Exasperated, he parrots lines that he has rehearsed well and reproduced today.
‘He’s on a business tour. Of course, he wished to be here. But he’s already begun work on our next project. And he’s currently travelling regarding the same. He extends his gratitude for your presence here today.’
A small press meet with Rodrigo has been organized. Reporters clamour for his attention and there are tens of raised hands around the room, all keen to pose the first question of the evening. Rodrigo selects a familiar face.
‘Annyeonghaseyo, Rodrigo-ssi!’
‘Hello, Kang Yoojin gijanim!’
Everybody is curious to hear what he will ask. There are whispers across the room— does he have new dirt on Rodrigo— but he surprises everyone by asking, ‘Your injuries seem to be healing really well. Some of us caught a peek at you at training … must say you are looking in top form!’
‘You seem surprised! What’s so surprising about a guy my age being fit? Look at Cristiano, Sergio, Rob … all still in their prime! But thanks for the compliment. Come meet me on the pitch. I’ll show you who’s geriatric and who isn’t!’
Everybody breaks into laughter.
‘No, but really. There’s still a couple of months until the league kicks off. It’s been an unusually long pre-season for you. Are you confident of holding on to this level of fitness until then’, another reporter chimes in.
‘None of us can predict the future, can we? All I can promise is to do my best. I have come here because I want to up my game. I’m hungry for more- more games, more goals, more wins, more trophies!’
There’s some hooting and a round of applause.
‘Your timing of coming here was rather odd, to say the least. It was just before the ISL and towards the end of the K league. In effect, you missed an entire season! And, you ended up having to pay a huge penalty to the club. You could have played in India until winter and moved here during the transfer window in January. Why did you rush here? All of us were flummoxed. Why did you choose to do that because, honestly, it made no sense?’
Rodrigo takes a deep breath and smiles serenely.
‘Thanks for reminding an old man the importance of time. What can I say, I’m just a dumb jock!’
Rodrigo laughs and the audience joins him in appreciation of his self-deprecating humour.
I followed my heart here , he wants to say but doesn’t.
And the conversation continues to focus on his football exploits. There’s a brief mention of his daughter who is said to be visiting him for the holidays. He says he’s excited to show her around and plans to take her to Japan to see where he grew up.
Event over, they’re now at the launch party. Rodrigo balances two glasses of champers and walks towards the poolside.
‘Care for a glass?’ He offers one to Mina, who has been sitting by the pool, her slinky silver dress bathed in soft moonlight, making her look lovely in an ethereal but melancholic way.
She had accompanied Rodrigo to the event as his minder and as Seoul Stealers FC’s representative.
But had stayed in the shadows for most of the evening.
Mina accepts gladly and smiles.
‘Why, may I ask, are you here by yourself? Instead of mingling. I’m sure there are many who must be waiting to speak with you!’
‘Just enjoying the silence. I suppose I’ve earned it after a rather noisy few months.’
‘Well, let me know when you grow tired of it. Always happy to make some noise!’ Rod laughs.
‘Thanks, but I’ll pass. Think I’ve had enough to last me a while.’
‘If you say so, miss. But I’d rather you didn’t look so lovely if it’s your intention to keep things quiet.’
‘Are you flirting with me?’
‘Is that what it sounded like?’
‘Sure did.’
‘Well, then, I guess I am!’
Mina, flattered and giddy as she is, speaks with a straight face.
No, I can’t let him know how I feel about him. Nope.
‘I’m guessing this works with the ladies, since you sound pretty confident.’
‘You’re still here talking to me. The drink is still in the glass and not on my face. I’d wager this is working quite well.’
Mina lets out a dramatic sigh of exasperation.
‘I can’t believe this worked with Timira.’
‘It didn’t. She never saw this part of me. She only saw me scoring goals and sweating like a pig, that unfortunate clown.’
‘Ah, she got the beast …’
‘And you get the beauty.’ He smiles with a wink, rubbing his chinstrap and cocking up an eyebrow.
Mina can’t control herself any longer and laughs out loud.
‘You are a loony!’
She picks her glass off the table, throws her fur wrap across her shoulders, and starts to walk further away from the crowd, towards the far end of the pool that houses a panel of fountains, their water falling in cascades like molten pearls and dissolving into the shimmering water of the pool.
Rodrigo follows close behind like a besotted puppy.
‘Mina-ssi, wait up. Don’t go away already. Explain to me why I’m a loony. I thought you would say I am lovely …’
Mina laughs, but it’s only a whisper now. Rodrigo continues to babble but their voices keep growing dimmer before they are lost in the din created by the gurgle of the fountains and the accompanying, comforting sound of silence.
* * *
MUMBAI, INDIA
WINTER
Poor Apa!
Timira’s mother has now been home for a couple of days.
And in the time that she was at the hospital, Timira has seen her father age exponentially.
Now that she is back, her father fusses over her like she were his newborn child.
Since the past hour or so, Timira has observed him hovering around their bedroom, going in and coming out for no reason, peeping at her mother from outside the door.
‘Poor Apa,’ she says and smiles.
Timira’s mother has required a pacemaker to be fitted into her chest, but has displayed no other cause for worry.
She has been in high spirits since her surgery.
Her sense of humour is as awful as it was before the surgery, and she’s still making terrible jokes , Timira observes with a smile of relief.
‘Your father has called me heartless on so many occasions. And why? Just because I scold him a little for his immense stupidity. He’s stupid, how is it my fault? Such a callous lok !’
Turning to Timira’s father, she adds, ‘ Ki ? Hoyeche shanti [What? At peace now]? I’m not heartless, after all. I do have a heart. It might have malfunctioned a little … at least now stop calling me heartless!’
Timira usually laughs indulgently at her mother’s jokes, but her mother hasn’t seen her smile since she’s been back.
‘Timmy, why the long face? I’m great! Look, isn’t it good that they found that something’s wrong with me? And they fixed me up before it could get worse! Aren’t I lucky?’
Timira isn’t used to such positivity from her mother. Her mother is usually the naysayer, and her father the bringer of positive vibes. ‘Your mother brings the tea, and I, the positive-tea,’ her father often jokes.
Timira wonders if this medical emergency has had a profound effect on her mother’s personality.
Did she have an out-of-body experience while she was knocked out? Kya bhagwan ji se saakshaat hua Ma ka?
It has been over two weeks since she left Seoul.
And, she’s yet to have called Haneul, even though he had set up camp in her mind and occupied every thought besides those about her parents.
Between running the house, looking after her father who seems lost without her mother, and making rounds of the hospital, she’s had barely any time to even breathe.
Whenever she does think of him, which is often if not all the time she is awake, she feels a pang of sadness.
Every time her phone does not ring when she hoped it would, she feels her heart sink a little more.
Every time her phone does ring and it isn’t Haneul, she feels like a toy that has been dumped and forgotten about.
When she informed Hanee of her safe arrival, she had heard about Haneul turning up at her place after she’d left for the airport.
‘Eonni, I bumped into him, walked RIGHT into him!’
But I sat in the lounge until the last boarding announcement for my flight. Staring at my damned phone! Why couldn’t he have called , she wondered.
But she was too tired and too sad to speak. Hanee understood.
‘I gave it off to him, eonni! I minced absolutely no words. He had no business being so late!’
Finding no response from Timira, Hanee rightly surmises that Timira hasn’t yet heard from Haneul.
This morning, like every morning, Timira is sitting by herself, sipping her morning cuppa and glancing at her phone every couple of minutes. Something her mother has noticed. The corner of the window alcove where Timira sits to drink her morning coffee is visible from her mother’s bedroom.
‘I see you stare at the phone whenever you get the chance. Since when have you turned into the kind that waits? Just pick up the phone and call him!’ She speaks a little loudly so Timira can hear.
Oh, Alice. I wonder what all she has told Ma!
Alice has filled in Timira’s mother on what had transpired in Seoul. Feeling rather guilty about the possibility of her medical emergency having interrupted her childlike child’s shot at happiness, she attempts to make an intervention.
‘Why are you shouting? It’s not good for you! Just call me if it’s urgent!’ Waving her phone, she admonishes her as she walks into her room.
Her mother holds her ears like Timira would in junior school every single day, and apologizes.
‘Sorry sorry! Won’t happen again. But, just call no!’
‘Don’t worry about it, Ma. I have it all under control.’