Half Girlfriend (30 page)

in his mouth before he spoke again.

‘Madhav, I love you as a friend so I am saying it. You have to stop

this. She is gone. Wish her happiness. Move on.’

‘I will. But only after I feel that I’ve tried my best. Two more

months.’

‘I would say end it now. And why go back in two months? Is there

a chance of a full-time assignment with the UN?'

‘I don’t know. I’ve never really showed an interest.’

‘Stop living in the past. Make a new life. Look for work here and

meet other people.'

I smiled and nodded, He made sense. I was not interested in sense.

He finished his breakfast, Slipping on his shoes, he said, 'Come out

with us sometime, Jyoti has many lovely single friends.’

‘Sure. Let me know if you’re going to a live music venue.’ Shailesh

looked at me and laughed,‘Mad you are,' he said.‘Anyway, I better

leave or I’ll miss my train,’

*

I had a one-hour lunch break at the UN. Most days I ate a

sandwich from the Subway or Starbucks outside. Since Shailesh had

refused to take rent, I had enough money to even have a cappuccino

later. I had found a fixed corner seat at Starbucks from which to make

my calls.

'Hi, is this the West Village Talenthouse?’ I said,

‘Yes, it is,’ an older lady with a heavy American accent said, ‘Can I

speak to the manager?'

‘May I ask what this is about?’

'I'm looking for a singer.'

‘We have lots of them. Did you check our website?’

‘Yes, I did. However, I am looking for someone specific not listed

there.'

'Didn’t get you, honey,'

‘Well, it's a girl, Indian-origin. She is in her early twenties. Her real name is Riya. I don't think she uses that on stage.’

‘I can't help you with such limited information. Did you see her

perform somewhere?'

'Well, no. Actually, she is an old friend. I am trying to locate her,’

‘Sorry, getting another call, bye.’

She hung up. I had another sip from my Venti-sized cup, which

held over half-a-litre of coffee. Americans are into size, whether it is

their cars, bodies or food. I had ten minutes of lunch break left. I

called a few more bars and one more talent agency. Finally, I made a

route plan to visit six bars in the evening around the Tribeca area.

40

'No Indian singer here. I’m sorry,’ she said.

I had come to Tribeca Nation, a small bar with thirty seats and a

tiny stage for solo vocalists. The singer had just finished her

performance.

I had gone up to her and told her I loved her voice. I asked her if

she would have a few minutes to sit with me. She looked at me

suspiciously.

‘I just have some questions. Nothing else,’ I had told her.

She ordered a Jack Daniel’s whisky and Diet Coke, and urged me

to try the same.

Erica was twenty-two years old. She was from Rhode Island, a

state north of New York. She wanted to act in a Broadway play, and

tried her luck at auditions during the day. At night, she earned a living through singing gigs.

‘I finished high school and came here.’

I looked at her.

‘No college, sorry.’ She grinned. Over the past few weeks, I had

learnt a thing or two about Americans. If they wanted something, they

went for it. They didn’t think about the risks so much. Which Indian

parent would allow a girl to sing in bars at night after class XII, I

wondered?

‘I really need to find this girl,’ I said, now two whiskies down and

more talkative.

‘Love. Makes us do crazy things,’ she said.

‘Well, I am going a little crazy.’

‘Love.’ She laughed. 'At least it keeps us singers in business.’

I gave her Riya’s description.

‘You spoke to agents?’

‘As many as I could. No luck yet.’

‘If she has a stage name, it can get quite difficult.’

‘Well, she is Indian. I am hoping someone will remember her. I

have two months left.’

‘I’ll let you know in case I spot someone.’

‘That would be helpful.’

‘I don’t have your number.’

We shared contacts. She recommended other bars.

‘Here,’ she passed me a tissue she had scribbled names on. ’These

are places that give new singers a chance.’

‘Thanks,’ I said.

‘She’s a lucky girl,’ Erica said.

‘It’s me who needs some luck now,’ I said.

*

One and a half months later

‘See you at Pylos then. At 7th Street and First Avenue. Eight

o’clock.’ Shailesh ended the call.

Pylos is a high-end Greek restaurant located in the East Village.

Earthen terracotta pots with spotlights dangled from the ceiling. In

Bihar, nobody would think that the humble matki could play

chandelier.

Shailesh and Jyoti had invited me out to dinner. Jyoti had brought

her friend Priya along, without warning me.

‘Priya is a journalist with Al Jazeera in New York. We went to high

school together,’ Jyoti said. Priya looked like she was in her early

twenties. Fashionable glasses, slim figure, attractive. She wore a navy-

blue top with a white pencil skirt and a long silver chain that dangled

down till her navel, which was visible when she stretched.

‘This is Madhav. He’s here on a United Nations project,’ Shailesh

said. Cue for Priya and me to shake hands and smile.

I told her about my internship and what I did back home in India.

‘You run a rural Indian school? That is so cool,’ she said.

‘Thanks,’ I said.

We ordered a bottle of Greek wine. We also asked for motissaka,

which is sauteed eggplant and tomato layered with caramelised onions,

herbs and a cheese sauce. A mountain-shaped dish, piled with

vegetables, arrived on our table.

I ate a spoonful.

‘This is like chokha,’ I said.

‘Chokha?' Priya said.

‘It’s a popular dish in Bihar. Which part of India are you from?’

‘I’m from Minnesota,’ she said. I realized that NRls born in the US

did not like being referred to as Indians.

‘Oh,’ I said.‘Anyway. This is similar to a local dish we have.’

‘My parents are from Andhra Pradesh,’ she said.

Shailesh refilled my glass of wine.

Jyoti ordered more food. We had a trio of Greek dips, consisting of

tzatziki, a thick yogurt dip; taramosalata, a dip made of fish eggs; and

melitzanosalata, made with char-grilled eggplants and extra-virgin

Greek olive oil. It came with pita bread.

‘I’m sorry, but this bread is also like our chapati,’ l said.

‘Yes, indeed. These are all flatbreads. From Greece and Turkey to

the Middle East and all the way down to South Asia, flatbreads are

popular,’ Priya said.

‘Is she Wikipedia?' Shailesh asked Jyoti and we all laughed.

‘She is. Just be happy she’s not discussing the Greek economic

crisis because you came to a Greek place,’ Jyoti said.

'Oh no, please. I read enough economic reports in the bank,’

Shailesh said.

‘Hey, I’m a nerd and a proud one. Cheers.’ Priya raised her glass.

All of us lifted ours.

‘Don’t worry, UN boy, I won’t bore you with my little nuggets of

wisdom anymore,’ Priya said. She clinked her glass against mine.

The girls decided to make a trip to the ladies’ room together. Why

do they go together for a solo activity?

‘Like her?’ Shailesh said, after the girls had left.

‘Huh?’

‘Priya. She’s giving you the eye, dude. Isn’t she hot?’

‘What?’ I said.

‘You play your cards right and she can be yours.’

I shook my head.

‘I'm not kidding,’ Shailesh said.

‘Not interested.’

'I'm not asking you to marry her.Take her out, have fun. Loosen

up.’

‘Very funny, I hardly have any time left in New York, Only two

more weeks,'

‘All the more reason, Don’t go back without some romance. Or a

score,’ He winked at me.

‘I have a final report to finish, I haven’t even started to pack. Plus,

so many bars to go to,’

‘You won't give up on this Riya nonsense?’

I kept quiet and finished my third glass of wine,

'You’ve visited or called over a thousand places,’ Shailesh said, ‘In

two weeks it all ends anyway. I am tired, too. Just giving it my best

shot,’

‘Idiot you are,’ Shailesh said,

We heard giggles as the girls returned.

'My friend here thinks you’re a little serious. But hot in a brooding

sort of way,'Jyoti announced, Priya smacked Jyoti's arm, 'Shut up. You

can't repeat a private conversation,’ said Priya, blushing as she sat

down again, Shailesh kicked my leg. Act, buddy, he seemed to say.

The waiter brought us another bottle of wine. I poured my fourth

glass, ‘For dessert I would recommend a drained Greek yogurt served

with fresh cherries, thyme-scented Greek honey and walnuts,’ the

waiter said. The girls swooned over the description and ordered two

servings.

‘Where are we going next?’ Priya said.

Well, we are the boring banker couple. We have early morning

calls,’ Shailesh said. ‘So we will head home. Why don’t Madhav and

you check out other places in the neighbourhood?’

‘Sure, I don’t mind. I could show Madhav the East Village area

around Pylos. I used to live here earlier,’

‘Actually, I have other places to go to,’ I said. I did have five places

on my list tonight.

‘Madhav, the lady wants to go out,’ Shailesh said. He kicked me

again under the table.

‘Stop kicking me,’ I said.The wine had made me more confident.

Jyoti looked startled by the sudden rise in my voice.

‘I need to go.Thanks for dinner. What is my share?’ I stood up.

My head felt heavy. I had drunk too much.

‘Sit down, Madhav. We are trying to help you,’ Shailesh said.

‘What am I? A fucking patient who needs help?’

My wine glass slipped from my hand and fell on the floor. There

was shattered glass all over the floor.

‘You do need help, Madhav. You’re losing the plot,’ Shailesh said.

Customers at other tables were looking at us. A waiter came to

remove the broken glass.

‘We should go. Shailesh, did you pay the hill?’Jyoti said.

‘Did I say something wrong?’ Priya said.

‘No,’ Jyoti said to Priya.

‘So what just happened?’ Priya said.

‘The boys go back a long way. They have their way of talking.

Don’t worry about it.’

Shailesh took hold of my upper arm. He dragged me out of the

restaurant. The cold December breeze hit us all.

‘You are drunk,’ Shailesh said in a slow, deliberately calm voice.

‘Let’s take a cab home. We will drop Priya on the way.’

‘I am not drunk,’ I said, even though I found it hard to keep my

balance on the icy street.

‘You drank wine like water,’ Shailesh said.

A yellow cab stopped next to us. The girls got in. Shailesh shoved

me into the front seat. He sat behind with the girls.

‘83rd and Third please, with a stop at 37th first,’Jyoti said.

I opened the front door of the car.

‘I have to visit five bars,’ I said and stepped out.

Priya looked at Jyoti, confused.

‘You are drunk. Come back in so we can leave. It’s cold outside,’

Shailesh said, in a firm but annoyed voice.

‘I am not drunk,’ I screamed, stumbling on the road and falling on

all fours. I twisted my right ankle and it hurt like hell.

‘Can you cut the drama and come back in?’ Shailesh said.

The girls saw me wince and were about to step out when Shailesh

stopped them.

'Are you coming or not? I'm running out of patience, bro,' he said.

‘I have to visit five bars,’ I said again, still wincing from the pain

of the fall.

‘Chutiya,’ Shailesh said. He slammed the door shut and the cab

zoomed off. A few cold drops fell on my face. I looked up at the sky.

Little white snowflakes were falling everywhere. A homeless man

offered a hand to help me stand up. Only the most pathetic can help

the most pathetic.

‘I have to visit five bars,’ I told the homeless man.

41

'I'm so ashamed, I can’t even look at you guys,' I said, eyes down.

I sat at the dining table in Shailesh’s house. I had brought muffins,

bagels, cream cheese, fresh orange juice, takeaway coffee and fruit

from Dean and Deluca, a neighbourhood deli.

Shailesh did not respond,

‘When did you come back? And when did you get so much

food?’Jyoti said.

‘I came back at 6. I tried to sleep but the guilt wouldn’t let me. So I

went out and got breakfast.’

Jyoti said, ‘You need not have bothered. We were so worried about

you last night.'

‘No, we weren’t,’ Shailesh cut Jyoti off.

I said to her,‘Sorry, Jyoti. I behaved like an ass in front of your

friend. I embarrassed you guys. Luckily, I wili be gone soon.’

Shailesh didn’t say anything. He just stared at me without a word.

‘Shailesh, I'm sorry. I had too much wine. I didn’t know Greek wine

was so potent,'

‘That’s not the point, Madhav. We all get high and have fun. You

disrespected us. Priya felt horrible. You ruined a special evening,'

‘I’m sorry. You are right.’

‘Did you see yourself? Staggering on the road screaming “five

more bars”. What has happened to you?’

‘It’s sinking in finally. I might never meet Riya again. It is the

realization that my effort was a waste. It got to me yesterday.’