PART 1 #10
Every time we—or anyone on the dance floor—comes close to sobering up, Daksh pours a fresh batch of shots for everyone.
With everyone else, he holds their face in his hand and pours the drink straight down their throat.
Except for Gaurav, who he has barred from drinking any more.
And with me, he hands the shots over. Despite his betrayal, I want him to hold my face.
‘Do you want something?’ I ask Vanita.
‘WATER!’ she screams. ‘I WILL COME WITH YOU!’
We slip out of our heels, she hooks her arm through mine and we totter into the hotel.
The lobby is a cool oasis of silence, but the beats of the music still thump in our ears and our feet can’t help but tap at the rhythm.
We find a couple of water bottles and an empty couch.
As we plop down, it’s as if all the exhaustion from our lives has finally caught up with us.
We sink into the cushions, feeling like we’ve never rested before.
‘Too bad you can only get married once . . . actually you can get married multiple times, but can only truly have a big wedding once . . . otherwise you look crazy,’ grouses Vanita.
‘I would want to do this once every year!’ Her make-up is now streaked with sweat.
She looks at her watch. ‘Uncle–Aunty must have landed, right?’
‘They are on their way,’ I tell her. ‘I think I have had my last drink.’
Vanita has a mischievous glint in her eye. ‘Unless, of course, Daksh asks you to have another one.’
‘It’s not like he’s holding my face and pouring it down my throat,’ I say.
I can already feel the regret bubbling up inside me, knowing that the words about to spill out of my mouth are going to give Vanita endless ammunition for teasing, but I say them nonetheless.
‘I really want him.’
‘You think we don’t see that? The way you two are dancing and looking at each other . . . if I keep that in the video, it’s going to be vulgar.’
‘I . . .’
‘Everyone’s drunk. No one minds. At least it’s better than your brother. So much for being in love with me.’
I don’t remember noticing Gaurav. My eyes have only been on Daksh.
Vanita explains. ‘He was kissing Tejal, it looked as if he was going to eat up her entire mouth! Aditya’s friends were pretty impressed he could pull her in.’
I would rather have my retinas burnt off than see Gaurav being intimate with a girl.
‘That’s what Daksh was doing, setting Gaurav up with that girl.’
She nudges me. ‘He still loves you.’
‘He likes playing the lover boy. And this is a wedding. The perfect place to play that role.’
She wraps her arm around me, letting me know she gets it. ‘We are all twisted in our own ways. Guess we are looking for people who can accept us with that twistedness.’
‘And you have found that person.’
She heaves a sigh and hugs me tightly.
‘My parents are going to be after my life now that you’re married,’ I complain sadly.
‘It’s all going to be your fault. When everyone around was getting married, I kept telling them I would get married when Vanita did, and then you stabbed me in the back.
If you had held out, I could have said, “See! Even she’s not married. ”’
She rubs my hand. ‘You will find someone. Who knows, you might just find someone in the US. Though I expect you to come back here, okay? Don’t become a US citizen or something. Do a Swades, earn some money and come back.’
‘That’s the plan,’ I say. ‘Also, Maa–Papa won’t be able to put pressure on me to get married.’
‘Good plan.’
‘My body is now itching to dance again.’
I make her get up. She clasps my hand. ‘I’m glad you’re here.’
11.
Aanchal Madan
Daksh and Gaurav are ready and waiting when the cab pulls up to the front of the Atlantis.
I piece together what must have happened.
Daksh would have asked Gaurav to go to his room, but a drunk Gaurav would have insisted on coming to meet Maa–Papa.
And so he’s here, eyes rolling, slightly swaying, smiling stupidly.
Gaurav rushes to open the door while Daksh heads to the trunk of the cab to unload the suitcases.
When I hug Maa–Papa, it doesn’t feel like I have been away for just a few hours.
Gaurav’s hug lasts longer. He spends less time at home and more at his office, the gaming conventions, the Instagram shoots and his apartment.
He wants Maa-Papa to move in with him, but I won’t allow it.
I have categorically told him that our parents will not move out of the house I paid for because I am the elder kid after all. And yet he keeps pitching.
But that’s only part of the reason I don’t want us to move out of where we live now.
The other reason is that Daksh lives in the same building as Gaurav and the last thing I want is to bump into him regularly.
Worse still, I don’t want my parents to get more reasons to like him.
Like right now, he has touched their feet, asked them about their flight, his voice rich with empathy, told them not to worry about their luggage, already has the key to their room and has chai waiting in the room.
So needy. So clingy. So Daksh.
‘I am so happy to see you here, beta,’ says Maa, cradling Daksh’s face with a gentle touch, as if he’s a precious piece of her own flesh and blood. ‘I will see you in the morning?’
‘Aunty, you have my number. If you need anything, just let me know,’ he answers, as if he’s not a wedding crasher but a wedding planner. ‘And you know I never miss breakfast. Who knows who I might meet there?’
Maa–Papa laugh at this often-recounted joke. I hate it when they do that. Treat Daksh as one of us.
‘We are also here,’ I remind Maa, hooking my arm into hers and walking away from Daksh and Papa.
Gaurav interlocks his arm with Maa from the other side.
As we walk towards the room, I overhear Daksh and Papa talking animatedly about the weather, the last cricket match between Pakistan and India, how petrol prices have risen again since they last spoke, and how the country is broken but no one talks about it.
Papa talks to Daksh more often than Gaurav.
Papa believes Gaurav would be in the wilderness, lost and struggling, without Daksh’s guidance.
Blah. If Daksh is so good at taking care of Gaurav, why isn’t he whisking him away from Maa–Papa who have literally shrunk at the stench of vodka coming from Gaurav and frowned at his wasted, unsteady steps?
Daksh leaves us at the room door wishing all of us good night. Gaurav turns away from us and pulls Daksh into a long embrace. I think Daksh gets a kick out of my family loving him more than they love me.
‘I will see you in the room,’ Daksh tells Gaurav and walks away.
‘Drink only as much as you can handle!’ Papa scolds Gaurav.
Papa is the only one among us who has remained unimpressed by Gaurav’s newfound success and all the flashy trappings that came along with it.
I know, in Papa’s heart, he wants him to put on a white shirt, a blazer, a tie and go manage a small team of people in a bank or an FMCG company.
He’s proud of him, but he doesn’t understand it.
Just like he doesn’t understand why his twenty-five-year-old daughter refuses to even start meeting boys for marriage.
I have lost count of the times Papa has slyly tried to put the idea of Daksh and me together.
As we settle them into the room, we look at each other and memories flood back of our first stay in a hotel like this seven years ago.
I distinctly remember the fear and hesitance we had while ordering room service.
In those days, we couldn’t have afforded room service, let alone staying at a hotel.
I remember distinctly the nagging feeling that everyone, people like Daksh who were paying customers, were looking at us and murmuring how out of place we were.
We constantly wondered if the hotel staff judged us because we were the only ones who weren’t paying for the holiday but had won it in a freaky lucky draw.
Just then, the bell rings and Vanita walks in. She has changed into her pyjamas, her make-up’s all smeared. Normally, Maa–Papa wouldn’t bother showing up for the wedding of any of my other friends. But Vanita is a whole different story. They love her and keep telling me to be more like her.
‘Aunty! You should’ve come earlier!’ complains Vanita, pulling Maa into a hug.
She touches Papa’s feet.
Papa touches her head lightly. ‘Where’s Aditya?’
‘He’s still making some last-minute arrangements,’ says Vanita without a crease on her brow, when we both know Aditya’s probably vomiting from all the fancy cocktails Daksh has been whipping out for him.
Maa makes Vanita sit on the bed next to her. ‘Look at you, so beautiful. And your mehendi! Such a nice colour.’
‘I know, right,’ slurs Gaurav from the corner of the room. He points at Vanita. ‘She’s the best! Look at her! She could have been . . .’
Maa glares at Gaurav. Papa grumbles from his side of the room.
‘I don’t mind him,’ says Vanita with a giggle. ‘I’m so glad you’re here.’
‘Ask your best friend also to get married, na,’ pleads Maa. ‘She doesn’t even see the profiles Papa sends her. I don’t know what she wants.’
Papa adds, ‘There’s such a nice boy, Saket, who likes your profile, but anyway.’
‘Aunty, she will do it when she feels it’s the right time. For me, the right time is now, maybe not for her.’
Maa exhales, long and sadly, as if the burden of the entire universe rests on her shoulders. ‘I don’t know when the right time will come for her. She keeps saying career is important. It is important, don’t we know that? You are also getting married, na? So? What’s the big deal?’
Gaurav’s drunk giggle cuts through the room.
‘What . . . I was . . . what . . . she should have gotten married to Bhaiya only when he asked you!’ slurs Gaurav. ‘It would have—’
‘Gaurav, shut up!’ I cut him.
Gaurav pulls funny faces at me and I glare at him to make him shut up. But it’s too late. Maa’s heard Gaurav, and about Daksh’s proposal.