Losing My Virginity and Other Dumb Ideas (23 page)

We talked about Karan, my date with him, what the girls thought about him and then we came to the last night together.

‘You what?’

I nodded, ‘I had sex with him in a hot air balloon!’

She was aghast. ‘How could you? I thought you could only have sex with your soulmate?’ and she used air quotes for the word soulmate and rolled her eyes.

‘Ha ha,’ I mocked, as I crossed my legs and made myself comfortable on her bed. ‘But seriously, I had some connection with Karan, even though he was only twenty-five.’

Aditi didn’t believe me. But I knew I had. I wouldn’t have been able to do what I did if I did not feel something for the guy. Karan made me realize that what I thought about myself was more important than what a man thought about me. And all along I had wanted to please Arjun. I only felt good when he thought I was looking good or when he was in a happy mood. But with Karan I always felt good. He had thought I was sexy, hot and intelligent even when I had brushed him off. He had
wanted
to go out with me. With a room full of gorgeous women, he had spent the last few minutes of the past year with me instead.

That … was a connection.

I walked over to the window and looked down at the greenery below. It was late in the night. Aditi’s parents were away for a few days and there was no one at home. I missed this. I missed spending time with her, having someone to come home to, someone who had a full time servant who could make hot samosas. Then I asked what she had been up to for these past few weeks.

‘Well, I’ve got some news too. I got a proposal for marriage.’

‘What?’ I asked, completely astonished. The imperial bad girl was going domestic? I couldn’t believe it.

She told me that her parents had been asking her for a long time to find someone. She had been looking for the ‘right’ person the last couple of years but they had all turned out to be just great one nighters instead of great companions. So she told her parents to choose someone and knowing how obedient she was, she agreed to the guy they’d selected for her. He was from a good, middle class, Maharastrian family, with a decent government job which not only ensured a small house and a small car, but also a steady income.

‘Aditi,’ I said, finding it a little difficult to believe, ‘you’re going to get bored of your life. I mean I’m already bored hearing about your life from you before you have begun it!’

‘Shut up!’ she said, pushing me away playfully. ‘I’ve realized something, Kavu … there is no such thing as the perfect husband. There is no such thing as the perfect marriage. And there is no such thing as the perfect wife. So I plan to do the one thing that is perfect. Make my parents happy.’

‘Aw, come on!’ I said exasperated. I couldn’t believe this was coming from her.

‘Your parents will die in about twenty years and then you’ll be bored and unhappy. God, you might be bored and unhappy in two months of this marriage, but will you stick with him for your parents?’ I couldn’t believe this. She had been the one to tell me to go after Love. And here she was giving up on it so easily.

She tried to rationalize, ‘There is no such thing as unhappiness or happiness in a marriage. It is how you make it to be. Romance is you taking the initiative for being so. Sex is when you pull down his pants and demand it. And conversation happens when you talk and ask for a response. It’s all when you want it. And if
you
want it.’

I couldn’t believe her, so I asked, ‘And what happens when you get bored? And you find another man … more attractive? And then you have the urge to go with this other man who excites you or is better looking or flirts with you in a bar?’

Aditi thought about this and said, ‘You know everyone wants change continuously. But honestly, I’ve had so much change that it will be nice to have something permanent. When your expectations are not met, you want a change. But what if you change your expectations? Then you just might be happy!’

I took some time to think about that. Then I had another thought. Why was I trying to convince her to not be married? If she claimed she had been unhappy for a long time with so many men, maybe this was a good thing for her. And then there was me. I had believed in finding the Great Love, a soul mate, who I would get married to. But she saw that that had led me to be alone and single as well. I suppose she had wanted to believe that my theory was the one that worked. But it had not. Not one of our theories had worked. According to her, the next logical step was to get into an arranged marriage. The roles had changed. So I stopped arguing and decided to be happy for her, albeit a little sceptically.

‘My God, Adu, you’ll get married and go away. What will I do without you?’ I said suddenly, with wide eyes.

She hugged me and said, ‘I’ll move down the road, stupid. Everyone lives in Planet Lokhandwala!’

We chatted till late that day and I spent the night at her place in her room. It was as if we were back to being roommates, chatting till dawn. Aditi had decided her course of life. She might never be the famous director she set out to be, but I knew she would be the perfect wife.

After my stint in television, I decided I had gained enough confidence to deal with more people in larger groups. I started putting my connections to good use. I went on the Internet and became a part of an organization that helped tourists from different countries plan out their activities. So pretty soon, I was helping groups coming to Mumbai, telling them where to stay and taking them around the city, as well as fixing them up for sight seeing of neighbouring towns. I became a tour operator with a difference. Instead of a regular travel agent who just did the bookings, I became a friend to these people.

It was actually very challenging. I realized there are a lot of people who want to visit India but they were scared of being mugged, having communication problems, or scared of being put up in an awful hotel by tour operators out to swindle them. Here, I was a real person with a profile picture who would be on Skype, chat with them telling them about their plans before they came. And then I would plan their holidays tailor-made to their needs. And everyone would have a blast. And I had a blast. And I made a lot of money. Because even if I wasn’t in it for the money, the people loved me so much that they tipped me really well over and above my fees.

There were people who only had four days and there were people who had two weeks. I had to figure out what they should do within their budget, so that they could have a wonderful glimpse of India. There were honeymooning couples who wanted spas and beach days and there were families who wanted the historical sites to educate their kids and there were female travellers who wanted cheap shopping during the day and exciting clubs at night. It was a wonderful plan.

Until I met Aaron.

Aaron was born and brought up in San Francisco. Although his father was originally from India, Aaron had never visited India as a grown-up. His father had died when he was young and his mother, who was American, remarried one of her countrymen. So the need for him to return to his ‘roots’ never existed, because he was an out and out American. But he decided he wanted to explore a part of him that had felt empty for so long. And he made his way to India.

Aaron was the complete opposite of Arjun. Yes, I made the comparison somewhere between picking him up at the airport and kissing him at my house. But I’ll come back to that later. Aaron came out of Mumbai airport looking like he should have been in the movies. He had light brown hair, white skin and blue eyes. Nothing about him gave away his Indian genes.

‘Kaveri?’ he asked, seeing me.

‘Aaron!’ I said, my voice a little too high pitched, ‘Hi!’

‘Hey, I’m so sorry you couldn’t recognize me. That photo I sent was years old, taken on a trek and it was so small, obviously you couldn’t see what I looked like.’

‘No, no, no problem.’ I offered to help him with his bags and he laughed and said that the backpack and duffel bag were all he was carrying. But soon, I would notice that even though he carried very few clothes, they were always branded and he had a terrific sense of mixing and matching.

As soon as we sat in the taxi I had hired for the day, I started telling him about the plans I had made, ‘So since you didn’t tell me how long you were going to be here and the things you wanted to do, I’ve taken the liberty of planning an itinerary for a single guy like you for a week and if you’re not too happy with that and if your budget allows …’

He interrupted me before I could finish, ‘Kaveri, I’m sorry I couldn’t talk to you more before I left. But it was sudden. I decided to come to India the day before yesterday and here I am.’

‘No, no, I’m not blaming you,’ I clarified.

‘Let me finish. What I’m saying is that I really don’t care what all we do, as long as we get to do it at a leisurely pace. I’m here till I find what I’m looking for.’

Then he became quiet and looked out of the window. I decided not to probe. I would tell him his plans later. We only spoke once we reached the hotel.

‘I booked you into Taj, the nicest hotel in Bandra. But if it doesn’t suit your budget …’

‘Don’t worry about money. It’s nice,’ he said, as we got off the car and walked into the lobby. While he was checking in, I sat on the plush sofas next to the flower arrangement and tried to gauge his body language. He was definitely wealthy. Which meant a good tip for me later. He looked tired, which was obviously because of his long flight. But other than that, he was cute. He was relaxed and unassuming. He had this aura that made people around him comfortable.

‘I’ve checked in,’ he said. I nodded and replied, ‘So you go rest and when you’re all freshened up, call me and we can discuss the plans for your trip.’

‘See, I think I’m going to be jet lagged for a bit so I’ll call you and maybe we can have dinner here or something if you like?’

Suddenly, I felt that maybe he had got the wrong idea. Maybe he felt that I was an escort service instead of a tour guide. So I tried explaining, ‘Aaron, I’m here to take you to places that you would generally not see on a bus. I’m not the type of person who has dinners and … does …’

‘Oh no!’ he was immediately apologetic. ‘I didn’t imply that. I was saying since I’m not up for a whole lot of adventure right now, if you want, you can fill me in on the stuff you’ve planned over dinner. Otherwise, come tomorrow for breakfast or coffee at whatever time and we can figure out a plan. Okay?’ With that, he tapped my arm and left.

‘I’m glad I made that clear,’ I muttered under my breath and left for home. But once I got home I started thinking. Maybe I shouldn’t have been so stand-offish. Maybe I was too conscious about the impression I made on people. I had always been guarded, because I never knew what to say. But I was more sure now. I knew how to conduct myself and I had met many tourists who loved my company. So maybe I should not have been so curt. And he hadn’t even said anything. I had just jumped to conclusions. I needed to ease off instead of reading into every tiny little sentence a man says. That’s what Arjun had left in me. A sense of doubt, suspicion and weariness. I needed to change that so I could be open, friendly, and less suspicious, even with single men.

I went for dinner with Aaron and we discussed the plans I had. He was extremely cool and didn’t come on to me at all. Over the next few days, we saw all the tourist spots of Mumbai: Gateway of India, Chor Bazaar, Haji Ali, Marine Drive. I went with him since he didn’t understand Hindi at all. And we ate at the local places and he thoroughly enjoyed the food. He relished the ragda pattice at Churchgate and the bhelpuri at Elco Arcade and the pao bhaji at Juhu beach. It was such a wonderful experience talking to him about culture, values, families, etc. It felt like I was a teacher, for he would sit and listen to me for hours. I would ramble on trying to educate this foreigner about his own land and he would ask significant questions that would make me proud.

‘Why is corruption so big here?’ he asked, when we were sitting one day for lunch at a small Lonavala restaurant. We had driven down so he could see some green hills and another part of Maharashtra. Even though I had come with Arjun to Lonavala a few times, being with Aaron had made me feel completely at ease. Arjun came to my mind a few times on the drive to Lonavala. But the scintillating conversations I had with Aaron about India drove his thoughts away. Aaron’s companionship, his viewpoint, my opinions and a general sense of camaraderie made me feel enriched.

‘Well,’ I thought out loud, ‘there are a lot of people who feel they are not getting what they deserve. Be it economically, emotionally, or morally. And if they’ve felt that for a long time from their family, friends, at school, and then see other people being corrupt, they think that it is the only way to feel better about themselves. Money makes them feel they have compensated for their deficiencies in other areas.’

The food came and we continued our discussion. He pointed out the flaws in my argument and I tried to justify them. We ended up talking about families.

‘Arjun, why … I’m sorry, Aaron, what made you come to India all of a sudden?’ I thought I had covered the slip of tongue well. But he caught on though he didn’t mention it.

‘I was cleaning out my garage and I found an album of photos, my dad had taken on our first, and last trip, to India. The three of us had come together and we had explored Bombay and some other places.’ He was pensive while talking and I didn’t disrupt his thoughts till he continued again. ‘I was seven then. Dad died of cancer two years later. He didn’t have his parents or close family in India. When Mom remarried, she encouraged me to be Indian. But I couldn’t. I was so angry with my dad for leaving me that I wanted to kill everything Indian about me. I know, I know, it wasn’t his fault. But somehow I felt he had abandoned me when I needed him and hadn’t fought the cancer hard enough.’ Aaron looked vulnerable.

I had never seen a man cry and this was a new experience for me. But I let him continue.

‘But all my life, I felt that there was something inside me that was so strong that I couldn’t suppress it any longer … and I didn’t know what it was. I could not put a finger to it. When I found this album, I felt that maybe Dad was telling me to explore my Indian roots to find out what that thing was.’