Arranged Love (10 page)

‘Games as in mind games like chess and bridge? Used to be in the hostel team back in college days. Haven’t played since though.’

Ting tong! A bell rang in my mind at the mention of bridge. ‘Marry him. He can be your fourth bridge partner,’ whispered someone from the back of my mind. I quickly shushed my back office and told it to mind its own business.

‘I meant more like physical games,’ I said out loud.

He smiled at me dubiously.

Realizing the alternate implication of my statement, I soon corrected myself, ‘Physical, not as in getting physical, but as in involving exercise … er … I mean the other kind of exercise …’ Shucks! Why was I blabbering?

‘I play squash regularly. How about you?’

‘Not an expert at any, but used to play a bit of tennis earlier,’ I said indifferently.

‘What about your imagination?’ he asked curiously.

‘What about it?’ I asked cautiously. I had a pretty wild and sexy imagination. I wondered what he was referring to.

‘I thought painters preferred playing with their imagination.’

I gave him a startled look. How did he know that I paint?

‘Your biodata,’ he replied to my unspoken question.

‘Oh! Yeah!’ I said dismissively, marvelling at how deeply he had read every word in my biodata and how serious he was about getting married to me. I knew I should just dump him and get it over with, but somehow I couldn’t bring myself to do it. We chatted about this and that, mostly inconsequential stuff, both of us wanting but neither of us broaching the marriage issue weighing on our minds. He had turned on the car’s air conditioning but I was still feeling hot. I saw a tiny drop of sweat lazily trickle down his temple. I bent forward slightly and stretched out my hand to switch on the FM in the car radio. The black hair of his forearm accidentally brushed against my smooth skin as he changed gears. We both felt a spark of electricity run through our bodies in that brief contact. I sat back upright in my seat once again and looked outside the window. The glowing neon signs lighting the front of the multinational business offices, gave a playful, pub-like personality to the national highway. We would be reaching the MG Road any time now and my home was only minutes away from there. I had to do it now. Crossing my fingers, hoping that he wouldn’t take the rejection badly and screw my first job, I turned my attention back on the job at hand.

Deep had begun to hum along the chirpy old number ‘
Hum aapki aankhon mein is dil ko basa dein to
…’

‘His voice is so titillating that it makes me want to make love to the notes as they come out of his mouth,’ babbled my back office. I reminded it that we were here to bewitch Deep, not to captivate ourselves. I had barely hushed the voices within when my libido kicked into top gear. My nipples became hard and tingling, craving for a touch. What was wrong with me? I never had problems being friends with guys or in breaking hearts in the
past. Why was I behaving like a novice on a first date, about to experience her first kiss?

I looked at his lips as they parted rhythmically, producing the rich, mellow sound that I wanted to get drowned in. I had to find a way to shut him up if I wanted to accomplish the task I had set out for. Suddenly a light bulb lit up in my head. It was again my back office’s brilliant idea. I was going to kiss him so that he couldn’t speak and then tell him that I couldn’t possible marry him because we were not kiss-compatible. It would not only soften the blow but also minimize any after-effects. At that moment, in my libido-infused mind, the plan seemed flawless.

We were waiting at a traffic light very close to my house now. I looked up at the stop time metre. I had forty seconds.

‘Deep,’ I uttered softly, gazing into his eyes.

He turned and looked at me. His fingers were drumming the steering wheel and his lips still chanting the magic love spell.

I tucked a stray piece of hair behind my ear. Thirty seconds. On your marks, get, set, go. I lapped my tongue over my lips, wetting them slightly, flung my body forward and landed my lips on his. He resisted the invasion for a brief second, after which he kissed back with the skill of an expert. He slid his tongue gingerly on my lips to warm them and then gently blew air on them, the hot and cold kiss causing an explosion in my body. I caught hold of his lower lip, sucking on it and flicking my tongue at it alternatively. Slowly, our lips parted and our tongues passionately and ruthlessly explored each other’s mouth, while the rest of the world melted away.

The signal became green and a bike zoomed past us blaring its horn and snorting at us. Regaining composure, I unlocked our lips and pulled away. Deep steered the car aside and parked in the service lane.

‘I have to say something,’ he mumbled a bit awkwardly. He had
the regretful look of a class teacher who was about to inform his students about the cancellation of a school picnic.

‘There is no need for you to be sorry,’ I said condescendingly, to spare him the guilt.

‘Well, I am not,’ he said serenely. ‘Not about what just happened. I kind of like the strawberry flavour,’ he added with a chuckle.

‘It wasn’t strawberry. It was a Bobbi Brown raspberry shimmer lip gloss,’ I corrected, having forgotten why I was here today.

‘Raspberry, hmm? Are you sure?’

‘You bet! I applied it,’ I said irately, ferreting for the tube in my purse.

‘Maybe I ought to taste it again?’

‘You might …’ I closed my eyes and lifted my chin to offer him my lips, when I heard him say, ‘Just kidding.’

I retreated, abashed at my own impulsiveness. After a few minutes of sitting in silent meditation, I looked up. Deep was blankly staring ahead out of the car windshield. When he spoke, his voice was kind and soft.

‘I wanted to apologize on my mom’s behalf for calling your parents,’ he said. ‘She had always wanted a daughter and she got a bit carried away on learning about our working together in the same group.’

I could tell by the disconcerted look on his face that there was more to come. I waited patiently.

‘I have been meaning to tell you this whole week, but you have been busy with the training,’ he said, in a build up to whatever it was that he was preparing to say.

‘You are the one who sent me to those boring information dump sessions,’ I complained.

He gestured his assent and then exhaling a deep breath, he said, ‘Look, I just wanted to let you know that I am not interested in getting married at the moment.’

‘Whose line is it anyway?’ I asked, to make doubly sure, for it seemed like our roles had mistakenly been swapped and he was reading out my lines.

‘I think mine,’ he answered, wearing a decidedly comical expression.

‘Are you rejecting me?’ I asked dubiously.

‘No. I am simply saying that right now is not a good time for me,’ he explained.

‘That’s deferral. A polite and yet insensitive type of rejection,’ I argued.

‘Look, I am sorry, but please don’t take this thing personally,’ he said in a humble tone. ‘I am actually planning on pursuing my MBA. I have even got the interview calls from A, B and C.’

‘You suck!’ I hollered.

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘You have no idea how to reject someone gracefully.’

‘Oh! So now I need to take a crash course in the art of rejection from you.’

‘You could, for future use, but in any case you can’t do this to me.’

‘I can’t do what to you?’ he demanded with a curious mixture of mockery and relish.

‘Well, you can’t reject me because I was going to reject you.’ There, I had said it finally.

‘I don’t know why, but it appeared more like you were kissing me,’ said Deep.

‘Yeah, but that was all part of a plan,’ I said defensively.

‘Wow! I don’t mind such seductive rejections,’ smiled Deep, as he started the car.

Feeling frustrated and irritated, I stepped out of the car and slammed the door. The apartment complex was only a crossing away. I decided to walk it back. I was so looking forward to rejecting Deep. Worse than getting rejected is getting rejected by
the guy you were planning to reject. The only other time I had been dumped, it was by an asshole who I had been dating for a couple of months during my summer training in Bangalore. After a passionate kiss, as we lay in each other’s arms in the office cubicle, he had proudly informed me that he was getting married in a month’s time to a girl of his parent’s choice. At least she would be first hand, he had laughed. I remember feeling humiliated and cheated. He had been an IITian too. I should have known better. My horoscope doesn’t gel with that brand.

Lost in my indignation and nursing my hurt pride, I failed to notice the car that waited outside on the road till I safely reached my building.

‘Why are you dressed so inconspicuously, like there is going to be a Shiv Sena attack in this pub tonight?’ Tanu di asked with a hassled look on her face. ‘I went past this table five times before realizing it was you.’

Feeling low after my unceremonial dumping the night before, I was not in the mood to attract attention yet. Tanu di was herself draped in a chic A-line, long, brown skirt and a beige tank-top.

‘It’s the same dress that you gifted me last year,’ I said defensively.

‘Since when did you start wearing a salwaar-kameez to a pub, honey? Is everything all right?’

‘A most unexpected thing happened to me last night,’ I said sombrely.

‘You didn’t get robbed or anything, right?’ Tanu di was suddenly alarmed.

‘Hell, no!’ I replied immediately.

‘Cool then,’ she said sinking into the comfortable cushions on the leather couch at the lounge bar. ‘I have something unusual to tell you as well,’ said Tanu di, giving me a mysterious smile.

Just then, Neha rushed in, wearing a bright red halter with the latest bummer pants.

‘You are not going to believe this!’ she called out excitedly.

I was still thinking about Tanu di’s news. What could possibly
happen in a thirty-five-year-old, single woman entrepreneur’s life? Another business deal or an award? At best she could meet a forty-something divorcé who takes her out for an exquisite dinner. If he then happens to ask her ‘Your place or mine?’ I very well knew what Tanu di would say. ‘You go to yours, I will go to mine.’

Neha, of course, must be referring to a new hot guy she made out with. Nothing these two had to say could beat getting rejected by the guy you were planning to reject.

‘The person with the least shocking news pays the bill,’ I declared promptly. Might as well get some free drinks out of my tragedy, I decided, already feeling better.

‘Deal,’ said Neha, banging the table with her fist, while Tanu di calmly nodded her head.

‘You go first,’ I told Neha, as she finished giving the order for our drinks.

‘Okay …’ she said, elongating the ‘k’ to build the suspense. ‘I am getting married,’ she declared exuberantly, shouting above the din of the live music that had started playing at the pub.

Neha getting married! The idea was as absurd as a free bird willingly flying into a cage or a liquid assuming a fixed shape forever.

‘Stop kidding,’ I said, laughing it off.

She smiled at me knowingly and coolly placed her left hand right under my nose.

My eyes popped open as I sighted a huge sparkling rock adorning her delicate ring finger. ‘When did this happen?’ I asked, dumbfounded.

‘This afternoon,’ she stated confidently.

‘But I talked to you like at 10 a.m. this morning and you said you were going out for a family lunch with your parents.’

‘I know. It happened all of a sudden, you see. I did go out for lunch with my parents to Hyatt, but it turned out that we were actually meeting an old friend of my dad’s and his family. Before
I knew it, I was ushered into a hotel suite with their gorgeously good-looking, one and only son for a tête-à-tête.’

It was clear that Neha’s parents had tricked her but it was more bothersome that she did not seem to mind.

‘You won’t believe what his opening line was!’ Neha laughed merrily.

‘Can you cook?’ I offered.

‘Do you sing?’ prompted Tanu di.

‘He said he was not a virgin,’ revealed Neha, bursting into peals of laughter.

‘Wow, a frank guy,’ I admitted admiringly.

‘And experienced too!’ remarked Di. ‘Looks like hands-on experience has become a valuable asset in the marriage market as well,’ Di added mockingly.

Unaffected by Tanu di’s sarcasm, Neha continued. ‘Mmm … utterly butterly delicious,’ she slurped, licking her lips pleasurably, evidently remembering a sensual experience.

‘What! You kissed him already?’ I asked, bewildered.

‘Hello?’ Neha looked at me questioningly. ‘When you are buying a car, that too a second-hand model, you have to verify that it has been maintained well and ensure that there are no mechanical glitches.’

Tanu di and I exchanged confused glances at being unable to follow Neha’s car–guy analogy.

‘Girls, I am getting married to this fellow. I had to check whether we were sexually harmonious,’ Neha explicated.

‘You mean cum-patible,’ I joked and we both burst into girly giggles.

‘Let me get this straight,’ said Tanu di dubiously. ‘You had sex with a potential suitor on your first meeting, to decide whether you would marry him or not?’

‘Di! Please don’t act like my concerned and well-meaning but old-fashioned mom,’ Neha said irritably.

Tanu di was shocked by Neha’s brazen attitude towards sex, but I knew Neha could knock boots with a cute chap she just met in a DTC bus. What I couldn’t understand was how she could agree to marry a person she barely knew?

‘You can’t possibly be serious about marrying this guy. You don’t love him.’ I argued.

‘Who said I don’t love him? He is the only son of a millionaire. He runs his own chain of five-star hotels in Milan. We are going shopping to Europe next week. I won’t have to stay with my mother-in-law, who is quite a social vignette by the way, and he knows how to satisfy a woman. I jolly well love him.’

Neha was already two drinks down.

‘That’s a very materialistic view of life,’ observed Di.

‘Ten years into marriage, with two kids, three maids, two drivers, with gymming to stay fit, maintaining a high flying career and a hectic social life, you get a maximum of half an hour with your hubby in a day. As long as he does his job well during that time, it does not matter what he does with the rest of his day.’

Neha had a point. Where was the time to cherish and nurture love in our busy lives? And yet, all the movies and the songs, all the books and the paintings, all the pain and the joy seemed meaningless to me without love.

‘What about the remaining 199 cars you were going to test drive?’ I teased Neha jokingly.

‘I found my Volkswagon GTI, baby. A sexy sports car with mileage. I am calling my bets now,’ Neha replied, her eyes gleaming with happiness and the sparks reflecting off the diamond in her ring.

‘She can always rent a car even if she owns one,’ said Tanu di cheekily. ‘Dial a cab. Anywhere, any time. Our services are just a call away.’

Suddenly the happiness disappeared and Neha’s face flushed with anger. ‘I might not wait a lifetime for my lost love like you,’
said Neha, looking directly into Di’s eyes and sounding hurt, ‘but I am not the kind to cheat either.’

She and Neha might have had dissimilar moral values when it came to physical intimacy—as different as a veiled, village woman and a stripper in a Las Vegas casino—but they were the two most honest people I knew and they were my closest friends.

‘I am sorry,’ said Tanu di immediately, realizing her mistake.

‘It’s okay,’ said Neha, gulping down another margarita, and smiling once again, her anger dissipating as quickly as public outrage in India after a terrorist attack.

Neha was definitely not paying the bill tonight. Confident that I would be able to beat Tanu di, whatever be her surprise, I downed the rest of my drink and placed the order for another round.

Drumming my fingers on the table and swaying my head to the beat of
Ayyayaye Coco Jambo, ayyayaye
, I looked expectantly at Tanu di and sang, ‘… and make me happy.’

‘I went out for dinner with Vikram yesterday,’ Tanu di spoke with a meaningful smile.

‘Anything less than a kiss and you are paying the bill tonight,’ I warned Tanu di jubilantly.

‘His firm wants to invest in my company. He offered me a valuation of ten million dollars.’

Ten million dollars was big news but not unusual, especially coming from Tanu di. I could see from the wide-eyed expression on Neha’s face that she thought otherwise.

‘Everyone knows that Lakshmi and Saraswati have joined hands ever since the dot-com boom,’ I said dismissively.

‘I agree,’ said Tanu di, unfazed. ‘I always knew I would make it big one day,’ she added with a touch of arrogance.

For once, I didn’t mind an IITian’s overconfidence. I was buzzing after my third mojito and I slumped down contentedly in my seat. In the joy of being treated to free drinks, I
had temporarily forgotten my deep-reciation issues.

‘Oh, and there is one more thing,’ she said, almost as an afterthought. ‘I am going to the North Pole next week.’ She said it in such a casual tone, it was as if she was announcing that she was going to the loo.

‘Is that a new restaurant or something? I asked, visibly at a loss to comprehend Tanu di’s statement.

‘No, it’s the northernmost point of the earth, located in the middle of the Arctic Ocean, amidst water that is almost permanently covered with constantly shifting sea ice,’ explained Tanu di, still maintaining a poker face.

‘Now, that’s rather adventurous and very unlike you,’ said Neha with a hint of jealousy in her voice. ‘Are you going alone?’

To my indescribable shock, Di shook her head and said she was going there with a friend.

‘Which friend?’ I asked, springing back upright in my seat.

‘Vikram, of course,’ she replied coolly.

‘Fuck, there goes Suhaani’s free drinks,’ cursed Neha.

‘Excuse me! I thought you didn’t like mixing business with pleasure,’ I challenged Di.

‘I am not going out on a date with him. It’s only an expedition to the North Pole,’ justified Di. ‘Besides a whole bunch of CEOs from the companies funded by Vikram’s firm will be going as well.’

Date or no date, a trip to the North Pole with a handsome hunk was definitely more unexpected than my reverse rejection.

‘What about the snow?’ I said in a last-ditch effort to save my pride and purse. ‘You freeze even in Delhi winters!’

‘I know, the cold weather sucks, but this trip is the key to my suck-cess,’ wisecracked Di.

With Neha tying the knot and Di ready to visit Santa Claus town, I felt like I was being subjected to shock treatment. Pissed at my defeat, I was wallowing in self-pity, when an old romantic
Kishore Kumar song, filled the ambience with nostalgia and transported us all to an ethereal dreamlike state.

Tanu di waved at a waiter who promptly rushed to our table. After ordering a margarita, a mojito and a diet Coke for Neha, me and herself respectively, she asked the waiter who had requested this song. The waiter pointed to a guy in a bright red tee, sitting across the dance floor on the other side of the lounge. Leaning back in his chair, his hands behind his head in a disarmingly relaxed posture, he was enjoying the number he had just requested. A pretty, petite girl sat across the table from him, smiling and casually bobbing her head rhythmically to the music. They seemed to be sharing a very close and comfortable friendship.

He seemed like a familiar person in an unfamiliar setting and because of the lighting and the alcohol in my system it took me some time to recognize who my friends were staring at. It was Deep!

‘Don’t you find him irresistibly attractive?’ Tanu di chirped excitedly, her eyes shining with renewed vigour. I was well aware of her weakness for guys in red t-shirts and her association of the colour with Champ.

‘Man! He’s super hot,’ Neha chirped in.

‘No, he isn’t,’ I said defiantly, curbing the urge to eyeball Deep again and unsettled by the jealousy that suddenly hit me at seeing him with another girl.

‘Either you are bullshitting me or you need to see a sex therapist,’ objected Neha, staring lustfully at Deep. Then she turned towards us and sighed guiltily, ‘I wish I wasn’t engaged.’

‘Aah! I love being single,’ said Tanu di, literally drooling over Deep. ‘You can go to any party, get drunk, lech at a guy to your heart’s content, and not worry that your better half will catch you.’ I could see that she was stripping him naked with her piercing gaze.

Of course, Tanu di was all talk and would never do anything.
What was weird was that even Neha found this Suri-like guy of
Rab Ne Bana Di Jodi
sexy.

‘Are you sure you don’t want to go up and kiss him?’ Tanu di asked no one in particular.

‘I already did. Last night,’ I informed impetuously.

‘You know him?’ They both squealed in surprise. Neha almost fell off her seat in inebriated excitement, attracting inquisitive looks from the nearby tables.

‘He is Deep,’ I mumbled contemptuously. ‘The suitor-cum-boss I was supposed to reject last night.’

‘But you just said that you kissed him,’ Neha said, raising one perfect eyebrow in confusion.

‘Yeah,’ I replied flatly.

‘You kissed him means you were physically attracted to him,’ deduced Neha asap.

‘You kissed him also means that you didn’t reject him,’ said Tanu di. I could see that Di was now feeling conscience-stricken, for leering at her possible future brother-in-law.

‘Well … I couldn’t,’ I said feeling a bit embarrassed at my failure.

‘I totally understand,’ comforted Tanu di. ‘He is quite a temptation to resist,’ she added, completely misunderstanding the situation. ‘The only time losing is more rewarding than winning is when you are fighting temptation,’ she quoted from her quote bank.