CHAPTER 9 Neel
Neel
“Come on, Neel!” Elena knocks on my bedroom door. “Anjali is waiting.”
I don’t know why she wants to drag me to this Dandiya dance tonight, but since Elena and Dilip are going, and Dilip’s sister is in town and wants to go too, Elena insists I join them. I would have preferred to stay at home, but since I have no plans tonight, Elena refuses to let me off the hook.
I even had to buy a new outfit for tonight since I don’t own a traditional Indian kurta, except for the one I wore on my wedding day, which I donated to charity soon after my divorce.
I check out my gold kurta and cream pants in the mirror.
It’s nothing like the green kurta I selected at Kavita’s boutique, but it’s better than my casual clothes.
My fingers graze over my cheek, noticing the dark five o’clock shadow.
I’m pondering whether I should shave again, even though we’re already late when Elena knocks harder. “Neel!” she shouts.
When I finally come out of my room, Elena whistles. “This looks nice on you.”
I tug at the collar uncomfortably, feeling some of the zari threads against my neck. “It’s itchy.”
“You’ll get used to it,” she laughs. “I wasn’t going to allow you to come wearing a shirt and jeans to a traditional dance.”
“Whatever, let’s go.”
Dilip comes to pick us up. I spot Anjali at the door, wearing a beautiful dark blue traditional lehenga choli outfit. She smiles as she sees me.
Elena warned me to be nice to Anjali and not to ask about her recent breakup with her boyfriend.
According to her, Anjali is now in India to spend some time with her brother and get over her heartbreak in Dubai.
And what better way to feel better than dancing?
Except I suck at Dandiya, and I don’t know how I ended up saying yes to joining them.
But there’s no backing out now.
Finally, we’re off in Dilip’s car to go to the venue. Dilip and Elena are in the front, talking and laughing to themselves, while Anjali is in the back with me, telling me how her boyfriend broke her heart, even though I never asked.
“We were together for ten years,” she says, “and in all this time, he couldn’t even tell me he loved me.
It took a lot to finally walk out of the relationship that had been going nowhere for ten bloody years.
” A tear rolls down her cheek, and she swipes at it, letting out a big sigh and leaning back in her seat.
She reaches out and places her hand over mine.
“I needed to have some fun tonight. Thank you for being my date.”
“You’re welcome,” I say awkwardly.
She turns to me, angling herself so she’s facing me. “Do you have a girlfriend, Neel?”
I shake my head.
Anjali tut-tuts and squeezes my hand. “Oh! Never mind. It’s better than being with someone who can’t commit.”
Still holding onto my hand, she launches into another long tirade about how she finally realized her boyfriend wasn’t the person for her until we finally pull up at the venue and she ultimately lets go of my hand.
Dilip parks the car, and we get out right across from the brightly lit venue decorated with string lights and streamers hanging from huge tents. I can hear the music out in the parking lot.
The venue is packed. When we enter, we find out it’s even bigger than it looked from the outside.
A large central space is cordoned off for the dancers—for the men and women dancing in pairs in circular groups—but all around and in the back, there are food stalls and a lot of tables and chairs for people to sit down.
The men are all wearing colorful kurtas like mine. Some look even fancier. I’m glad Elena got me to wear this, or I might have looked like an odd duck in this crowd. The women are all decked out in traditional Dandiya attire, too, their bright skirts embellished with beads and mirrors.
I can already feel the vibes as the dancers swing and swirl their sticks in the air, tapping their sticks against their partner’s sticks to the rhythmic music. It’s all fun to watch, but I can’t imagine joining them.
I’m dreading the very thought when Anjali tugs at my hand. “Come on, Neel! You’re not going to just stand here, are you?”
I swallow, regretting my decision to come in the first place. What was I thinking?
Elena nudges me and whispers, “Dance a little tonight, brother.”
“This is a nightmare,” I hiss as she hands me two Dandiya sticks. “I don’t know how you coerced me into this. And I have no idea how to hold these sticks.”
“You’ll learn pretty quickly. Good luck!” she winks. “It’ll do you good to mingle around a few women.” And with that, Dilip and she disappear into a circle of dancers.
As Anjali pulls me into one of the dances, a couple of people make way for us to join their circle. The song picks up; the beats getting faster and faster. Anjali moves her feet to the beats instantly, looking like a pro already, while I stare at her, dumbfounded.
She raises her sticks up in the air and asks me to raise mine and tap hers.
I’m a mess. Barely able to time my hand and leg movements, I can hardly keep up with her, and after a few beats, she seems exasperated at my awkwardness and ready to give up.
“Please, Neel,” she pleads. “Keep up with me here.”
“I’m trying,” I yell above the sound of the music, but I still do so horribly that her face drops in disappointment.
Suddenly, the music changes, signaling that it’s time for the partners to switch. The women move to the right, striking their sticks with their new partners, while the guys switch by moving in the opposite direction.
Facing a different woman partner with every change of beat is worse, but Anjali is happily moving further and further away from me. I’m just glad she’s got other folks to dance with and enjoy the night.
The new partners eye me weirdly, a range of emotions flitting across their faces. From amusement to annoyance to pity, everyone around me is soon laughing at my expense as I miss the tapping beats. I’m such an embarrassment, even to myself.
“Hey!” a voice calls out. “What are you doing?”
I look to see a familiar face to my right.
Kavita?
It’s the moment I miss the exact timing of the next strike against my partner’s sticks.
And the sticks go straight for my knuckles.
My vision goes white. I crouch in pain, and before I know it, somebody grabs my arm and pulls me away.
As I stumble out of the circle, I find myself face-to-face with Kavita. She’s wearing a stunning red and gold lehenga choli, her hair adorned with flowers.
“Neel, are you alright?” she asks, concern etched on her face.
I nod, unable to form words, my hand throbbing with pain.
Kavita glances down at my reddening knuckles, her brow furrowing with concern.
Her dark eyes, framed by long lashes, dart back up to meet mine.
“Shit!” she swears, her full lips pursing in distress.
“If only I hadn’t called out to you, you wouldn’t have been distracted. This wouldn’t have happened.”
“It’s not that bad,” I manage, trying to downplay the pain despite the wince I can’t suppress.
“Shit, I’m terribly sorry!” she says, her voice filled with remorse as she takes my hand in hers, her warm fingers softly rubbing over my knuckles.
I think I feel a little better already.