Chapter 6
It was then, as I was shaking and two-stepping, that I first noticed Andrew.
The brown eyes that carried a hint of winter chill were on me, too.
My heart skipped a beat, and my feet weren’t quite as light any more.
It was two years since I had passed out of Bangalore Scottish.
Despite both of us living in Bengaluru, within a two-kilometre radius of each other, I hadn’t clapped eyes on him since the night of the annual ball, a little over four summers ago.
I had heard of his exploits. He was blazing a trail at the National Law School and was equally active on the dating scene.
He was the first among the boys to walk up to us. Andrew tapped me on my shoulder and mouthed a hello before introducing himself.
‘Of course, I know who you are, Andrew.’ Only the weak take refuge in coyness.
My mind went back to that starless night four years ago.
‘Hello, Captain,’ I said, happy to get back to scratch if that’s how he wanted to play it. ‘I’m Myra. You might remember me from Bangalore Scottish.’
Back in the time when you are scaling grades, it doesn’t get bigger than school captain. That changes expeditiously in college, but in some cases, auras don’t tail off.
‘Myra Rai,’ he said, smiling, before twirling me around.
Although I was salivating all over the wooden tiles in spirit, I was holding my own in appearance.
We burnt the spaces between the tables, moving like we were glued at the hip.
Our eyes locked from time to time. I felt him, and he felt me.
He was a superb dancer, and in his arms, I discovered I could keep pace.
Our friends had lined the wall, clapping and whistling as we kept the crowd – plumped by the staff – entertained.
‘When do we meet again?’ Andrew asked as we called it a night. My heart was racing, and my head was spinning. Too much alcohol. Too much Andrew.
‘I’m sure we’ll meet soon.’ I played it cool. The question had taken me by surprise, and it was all I could do not to bounce up and down and shout, ‘Yes. YES.’
‘Nice try,’ he said. ‘I’m not so easy to get rid of.’
I knew Meena and Andrew were not in touch. He had approached her and tried to make a go of things, but Meena wasn’t interested. ‘Not worth the trouble,’ she had said.
‘It’ll be tough, Andrew,’ I parried.
‘Give me your phone number.’
I made my way to the waiting cab. Then I snuck my head through the window and shouted, ‘It ends with one.’
Andrew stood there looking delighted. Make that delicious.
Not very long ago, on a night like this, I was a mess.
My heart had been shot to pieces. But as my mother had promised, the wheel had turned.
She hummed a soothing track from a time when reel life was black and white, ‘Malagu, malagu charulathe ningu neralide.’ Sleep, sleep Charulatha, there’s some shade for you, too.