Chapter Sixteen #3
No touching, no touching, only seeing, only seeing … Timira hums under her breath. Uff, Himesh is a rockstar!
On realizing that her feet are no longer on the ground, she starts to yell again.
‘Alice, Bhaskar, where are you? I’m getting kidnapped. Save me! Call the police. Hundred ko phone laga bey !’
One eye still shut, she tries to see her kidnapper with the other.
But she can only see a vast expanse of creamy white poplin …
or is it satin? Looks expe-hen-sive … that feels silky and rather soft to touch.
But as her eyes adjust to the lights, she can finally see more.
The outline of the back that the poplin fabric covers.
The trees that garland Bandstand Promenade.
She can smell the familiar but always heady Bombay fragrance of salt, sweat, sewer and dreams waft up her nostrils.
Her kidnapper is moving at a leisurely pace; he doesn’t seem to be in a hurry to make his escape with her.
I must be heavy, poor guy. Should I ask him to put me down?
‘Hello, hello. English okay? Ya Hindi ? Neeche utaar dijiye mujhe, main bhagungi nahin. Bohot pee rakhi hai maine, bhag nahin paungi ,’ she chuckles.
Her kidnapper only grunts in response and ignores her instruction.
Maybe he doesn’t follow Hindi. Bangla? Na na, no chance! Kidnapping someone, carrying them on your back is a lot of work. Fat chance my lyadkhor bangali dadas would do such a thing!
‘ Bhau, tumhi Marathi bolta ka ?’ She tries the local language.
Poplin kidnapper continues to ignore her.
Okay, so not Marathi manoos. Which language shall I try next?
Before she can pick one out of the two and a half Indian languages she knows, they pass by a neon streetlamp and its light falls directly over the neck and head of her kidnapper.
She freezes.
ELF EARS!
* * *
They’re sitting by the sea, and drunk Timira is desperately trying to snap out of her stupor. Hailing a coffee vendor on a bicycle, she asks for a strong cuppa.
‘Extra coffee powder daaliye , pleeeeease!’
Relishing every sip, she finishes the coffee in no time and asks for a second cup.
‘ Bhaiyya ji , idhar hi khade rahiye. Ek se mera nahin hone wala. Pilate rahiye aap. ’
Haneul is watching her, fascinated.
Look at this mad woman. How did I stay away from her all this time?!
‘Would you like to try? It tastes of burnt plastic, though. Don’t whine later that I didn’t warn you.’
She speaks to Haneul as coolly as she can.
I can’t, absolutely cannot, let him know how miserable I have been. What is this behaviour? Does he think he can just land up on my birthday and I’ll forgive him for all the pain he’s caused me? Nope!
‘It’s tasteless; I don’t taste any plastic, burnt or otherwise. How are you drinking it with such relish?’ Haneul is flummoxed. That anyone could enjoy the insipid, sickeningly sweet beverage is beyond him.
‘It’s an acquired taste. You start developing it when you are on a monthly stipend of 5000 rupees. You rich chaebol will not get it. Don’t even try!’
After draining the last bits of her fifth cup, she finally feels awake and bids the vendor, who looks like he’d been captured by a ghost, adieu. Haneul is amused to see him scurry off, ignoring every call from prospective buyers.
Am I the only fool willing to risk his life to be close to this creature? Could she possibly be a ghost?
Amused by his own thoughts, Haneul smiles.
‘Where is my bag? Oh, dang, it’s back at the pub. Let me phone Alice and tell her to keep it with her. But where’s my phone?’ Timira searches frantically, patting all her pockets.
‘Relax, your phone and bag are both fine. Safe with Alice.’
‘How do you know? How do you know Alice? Wait, what have I missed? Ah, of course. You knew I’d be there. At the pub. You knew everything. And they did, too. You plotted this with those two. Traitors! I’ll kill them!’
‘This is only partially true. To be entirely honest, you said you’d be here,’ fishing out the letter she had left in Hanee’s bag for her to find and give to Haneul. She had forgotten about it.
Oh, crap! How did I forget about it? And why didn’t Hanee tell me she’d found it? Shaitan child!
Seeing the letter in Haneul’s hands, Timira is a little embarrassed but her embarrassment is trumped by her genuine excitement at it having reached its intended recipient.
‘She found it! You read it! And it still took you so long to find me.’
‘I’m sorry. I’m not too late, I hope …’
‘That depends on how well you answer my next few questions.’
Haneul clears his throat. His eyes are full of affection and mischief, but his voice sounds serious when he speaks.
‘Bring it on!’
Timira shoots off a bunch of questions, and Haneul answers patiently.
‘Why didn’t you call all this while?’
‘Why didn’t you find me after your, er, “incident” with Rodrigo?’
‘What took you so long to come to me?’
‘I have no excuses, Timira, but please know that I came as soon as I could. But I will try to answer your questions. I was too blinded by anger and betrayal when I saw you with Rodrigo. And then what he said on TV. Anybody would be affected!’
‘But you could’ve asked me what was going on! I called so many times. You just vanished. How could you just cut off all communication?’
‘I’m sorry. I know now that how I handled it was completely wrong. And it’ll never happen again.’
‘That depends on whether I give you another chance. Now answer the rest of my questions!’
Timira is beginning to thaw but is trying hard to not let it show.
‘Right. So, why didn’t I call you all this while. Right, let me see how best I can articulate my thoughts. So, I first wanted to handle things well with Mina …’
‘Don’t lie! I know she’s the one who broke up. She called to check on me. Even SHE called, but you didn’t!’ Timira cuts in, slightly annoyed.
‘You have to let me finish, Timira! With Mina, it wasn’t just she and I but our families, too.
I wanted to sort it out completely. I returned her father’s investment with a loan from the bank, and that took a little time.
I wanted to be free of my family’s leverage on me.
Nobody aside from you gets to manipulate me! ’
‘You wish to be my puppet?’ Timira sticks her tongue out at Haneul.
‘I will be whatever you want me to be, Timira.’
Timira looks away, feeling shy and turning a little red.
‘And why I took this long to come to you is because I wanted to finish all work on the SecondSkin product launch. I didn’t want anybody raising fingers at my professionalism. That way you wouldn’t be proud of me, would you?’
Timira cannot disagree but she isn’t entirely satisfied.
‘But I still don’t understand why you couldn’t have called me!’
‘And told you what? That I wish to be with you, but I can’t because I’m busy cleaning up my messes? Timira, level with me here. Do you realize how idiotic that would’ve been? I anyway felt terrible that I couldn’t be with you when you needed me most!’
Timira can sense the desperation in Haneul’s voice. His eyes, bathed in moonlight, are a little moist.
His voice quivers a little when he speaks.
‘I came as soon as I was able to. I’m sorry I couldn’t be with you when you needed me. I promise, this will never happen again. I’ll be next to you even when you don’t need me.’
Timira smiles and sighs deeply. Linking her arm with Haneul’s, she speaks.
‘Who would’ve thought what started in Bali would ultimately bring us here? Or, are you still going to insist you remember nothing?’ Timira is teasing.
‘I’m so sorry, Timira. I have no excuse for those unconvincing lies. I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m so, so sorry!’
‘Nah. You didn’t hurt me! Anybody could tell you were lying. I didn’t believe a word! I knew you were scared. As was I. Anyway, never mind that. I just cannot believe we got to meet this way. It feels magical!’
‘Ah, finally. This isn’t the half of it. Wait till you’ve heard the whole story!’
‘There’s more?!’ Timira is half screaming.
‘Yes, ma’am. The big reveal!’ Haneul answers excitedly with a mischievous and delicious grin, as though he’d been building up all the while to this moment.
What? What big reveal could this be? What’s he on about?
‘What are you talking about? What “big reveal”?’
‘I’ve been waiting for this ever since Hanee brought me the letter. You have no idea, Timira. Get ready to have your mind blown!’
Timira is curious and a little nervous.
‘Give me your hand. Both hands!’ Haneul says to her.
Is there something I don’t know still? What more?
Haneul smiles, his eyes gleaming with excitement, and places a piece of paper in each.
One is the letter she wrote in Seoul.
‘To he who saw me
when I was but a stranger
to him and to me.
To he who felt like home
like a safe haven
just for me.
To he whom I want to hold
close, so close
and, never let go.
Sky,
Don’t take too long
but, take your time. No rush.
I’ll be waiting for you by the sea.
Forever yours, T.’
Groan. How embarrassing. Why did I have to write such garbage poetry? Wannabe Rupi Kaur. Should have just stolen some quotes from IG! I iz Poopi Core. Le poetess de garbage.
The other, a paper napkin, tattered in places. As though it had been folded one time too many. Like the secret notes Timira and her friends passed around during class in middle and high school. In it were written two words in writing that looked suspiciously like hers: ‘Thank you’.
Timira is gaping. Her big eyes widen to resemble Labubu’s eyes. But she is a little confused.
Where is this from? How on earth …
‘And this isn’t all.’ Haneul is laughing at Timira’s wondrous expression.
‘There’s more?! You’ve got to be kidding!’ Timira exclaims, half in disbelief and half in excitement.
He shoves into her hand one of her visiting cards, the one Haneul had picked up from the floor of their hotel in Bali after having bumped into her.
Timira feels a chill down her spine and the baby hairs on her neck rise.