I had welcomed everyone with juices and Coke but Rishab had ignored the light drinks as he went ahead to open the refrigerator.
‘Stellas!’ he exclaimed and pulled out a can for himself.
‘Take out some more for those who want to have beer!’ I shouted.
Sanchit left the glass of juice on the dining table as he heard the word ‘Stellas’ and went to check the refrigerator.
‘Oh boy! A dozen cans? But you don’t prefer alcohol, right?’ he asked, taking out one for himself.
‘I got it this morning for you guys. Won’t mind having one today,’ I chuckled.
‘Ice cream!’ one of the ladies screamed as she eyed a bucket in my open fridge.
All of a sudden, I felt that everything at home had become vulnerable to inspection by the guests. Anyone could open and check out anything. My house was under everyone’s control and my bathroom was under the control of the little kid who had soiled his diaper with some artistic colourings and made his mother’s life more difficult.
There was absolute craziness.
Then suddenly someone screamed, ‘Let’s cut the cake! Hey birthday boy, come here!’
I went to the kitchen to get a knife, when Sanchit came and whispered, ‘Hey, didn’t you invite her?’
Busy finding the knife, I answered, ‘I did. But Saturday is not off for her. She had her finance class late this evening.’
A few weeks back I got to know that Sanchit knew Simar. In fact, even before I’d told him about Simar, he had met her a couple of times at the same sandwich diner before I landed in Belgium. And in the past few days, the three of us often had our lunch together on the bench outside the diner.
Sanchit kept looking at me for a while and spoke again, ‘Shall I ask you something?’
Having some idea of what he was about to ask, I laughed a bit and said, ‘Dude, enjoy the drink and give me one.’
I continued hunting for the knife. Sanchit’s eyes were still on me.
Trying to steer Sanchit away from the topic that was on his mind, I spoke again. ‘Thanks! In case you are the one who got the cake.’
‘Do you like her?’ he asked with a big gulp of beer. He was looking intently at me.
‘Are you crazy? There is no such thing!’ I exclaimed as I found the knife under the gas stove. ‘Oh, here it is. Come, let’s go cut the cake.’
‘Why are you avoiding my question?’ Sanchit persisted.
The voices from the living room had suddenly become louder. Rishab had cracked some joke and everyone was laughing at it.
‘Come on, Sanchit, we are just friends,’ I said, facing the kitchen door. Sanchit was behind me.
‘You like her or not?’ he repeated.
I turned towards him and took a deep breath. ‘You know my past very well, Sanchit …’ I was going to continue but Sanchit cut me mid-speech.
‘Yes, and because you wanted to come out of it, you left India and came here.’ Sanchit’s voice was louder this time.
I wasn’t left with much to say. I stood still, vaguely looking at the knife which I was holding in my hand.
‘Ravin, it’s been a long time now. Think about your future, think about your family back home. Get yourself a life.’ Sanchit gesticulated with his hands, spreading his arms wide open in the air, as he made an attempt to convince me.
Sanchit knew everything about me. He was like a brother to me. He had groomed me in the initial days of my job, and now he was supporting me quite a bit in settling in Belgium, especially in getting started at the on-site office.
I know he was absolutely justified in saying these things to me. Everyone close to me had said the same—my mom, my dad, the rest of my family and my friends. I knew they were all right. But I wasn’t wrong either. I knew I wanted a change and I left India for the same, but getting another girl wasn’t the change I left India for. I wanted to experience a change in terms of my daily life, my surroundings, the culture and people I interacted with. Of course I found Simar to be a nice girl, but only to interact with. It was exciting for me to see her but I never imagined myself falling in love with her.
For me love was just meant to happen once and it was forever.
How do I fill the same heart with love for someone else? Not that I never thought that way, but whenever I thought of it, I couldn’t give myself an honest answer. And in the absence of any legitimate answer, I would tell myself to simply leave it all up to destiny.
‘I am not saying that you should go and find happiness. All I am saying is that if happiness comes knocking at your door, then don’t deny it,’ he said, gently putting his raised hand on my shoulder.
His words didn’t register in my mind. I stood quietly to let him finish speaking what his heart felt. Alcohol makes people speak from their hearts. Sanchit was now speaking from his.
I was yet to have my share of alcohol. I was yet to speak from my heart.
‘What’s cooking between you guys?’ Sanchit’s wife came looking for us.
‘Darling! We are wondering what to cook?’ Sanchit immediately responded with a smile.
‘Oh, don’t worry, guys. Together we will cook with whatever is available here and if there is nothing, we will order something from outside. Come on, now! Let’s cut the cake!’ She held my hand and took me out.
Soon everyone sang loudly in unison ‘Happy Birthday to you … Happy Birthday to you …’
This was followed by a lot of clapping. The cake was cut, smeared and thrown around.
A little later we all cooked together, spoiled my kitchen together and then ate together. There was an air of warmth and fun all around. At about 8.30 p.m. I bid goodbye to everyone and was left in a messy house. It was quite early for a party to be over, but many of my guests were living in Brussels and the journey back home would take them at least an hour.
I kept staring at my messed-up house and the dirty cutlery and crockery under the kitchen sink. Cleaning up would be a huge task so I changed my clothes into a comfortable vest and shorts before I was ready to dirty my hands.
It took me close to twenty minutes to reset my living room. I was cleaning the utensils in the kitchen when my doorbell rang. I wondered if someone had returned to collect something they might have left behind. I went out to check who it was and looked through the peephole of my door.
‘Shit!’ I murmured.
It was Simar, with some girl.
My heartbeat had accelerated all of a sudden. Instead of opening the door I ran in. I looked at the kitchen’s condition. I looked at my own condition. Then I quickly looked for my T-shirt and jeans and got back into them again. I closed the kitchen door to hide the mess in there. Only then did I unlock the main door.
‘Hello,’ I said, panting.
‘Happy Birthday!’ Simar sang, her head tilted to one side as usual.
I smiled.
‘Happy Birthday!’ wished the other girl and then shook my hand.
‘Thank you,’ I responded.
‘She is Tanu, my batchmate; and Tanu, he is Ravin,’ said Simar, beginning the introductions. ‘He works with Pitney Bowes—you know, that blue–white coloured building, na? The one at the first right turn on the road outside our hostel?’
‘Yes, yes!’ Tanu acknowledged, but I could clearly see that this wasn’t the first time she was getting to know this from Simar.
I welcomed them into my house. They had barely sat down when Tanu’s cellphone rang. She went out to take the call. I offered her my balcony for privacy but she pointed outside, indicating that she would prefer to go out. I didn’t stop her.
‘I will be back in twenty minutes!’ she said to Simar as she walked out.
Simar gave her a sad look. They also exchanged some strange glances and some girlish talk in sign language. I didn’t understand what they were conveying to each other. It was a little uncomfortable for me to be a part of that silent conversation. Hence I took the opportunity to go to the kitchen and grab some lemonade.
By the time I
returned Tanu was gone.
‘What’s going on?’ I asked Simar, offering her lemonade but looking at the main door.
‘Her boyfriend!’ Simar answered. None of us felt the need to ask more or explain more.
‘Sorry for this mess. My friends were here,’ I mentioned.
‘It’s okay. Chill!’ she said, squeezing her eyes shut as she pronounced chill.
I wondered if it was the tangy lemonade which had made her squeeze her eyes shut like that.
As we sat next to each other, I noticed that she was looking visibly uncomfortable. I assumed it had to do with the closed door and the conscious realization that it was just the two of us inside my home. I could see the discomfort on her face, in her body language, in her exaggerated smile, and even in her gestures as she repeatedly smoothened her hair.
But before she could have felt more uncomfortable, I jumped in to change the strained atmosphere. I got up from my couch and began telling her about the birthday celebrations that had taken place at home a short while back. Simultaneously, I started cleaning up the party mess.
‘How come you turned up this late?’ I finally asked her the question that I had wanted to ask her sometime back.
She relaxed a little. ‘Arrey, I had that finance class, na. I wouldn’t have been able to come at all, but the class got over half an hour early. And when I mentioned to Tanu that it’s your birthday, she got all excited about eating the cake. So …’ She left the sentence incomplete but raised her shoulders as if the rest was self-explanatory.
‘Oh, so it’s because of your friend Tanu that you are here. I thought you came to wish me,’ I said as I walked by her, carrying a stack of dirty dishes. I hadn’t missed the opportunity to tease her.
‘No. No. It’s not like that!’
‘Then what is it like?’ I smiled back, knowing the advantage I had.
‘It’s difficult to come out alone, na. So I wanted Tanu to accompany …’
I didn’t pester her further because I was trying to comfort her. I also kept cleaning the mess. She was way more comfortable now and got up from the couch to check my collection of music CDs and a few books I had on my shelf.
Eventually, we just talked as we did our own thing, our voices rising and dropping depending on where we were. Gradually, she seemed to be feeling less nervous and was laughing every now and then. She appeared comfortable talking about various things. Later, she even helped me in doing the dishes. I too wasn’t embarrassed any more at the prospect of exposing my messy kitchen to her. I was enjoying her presence. I don’t know why but I felt different. It all felt nice. Maybe because it had been so long since I had been with a girl in the privacy of my house at this late hour. Perhaps that’s why the air around us felt so stimulating—as if it was charged with some sort of mysterious, invigorating vibes. We kept talking, after which we made some coffee and, along with the leftover cake, shifted to the balcony.
It was pleasant being there with Simar in that dimly lit balcony and witnessing that beautiful night full of stars. I wasn’t able to see her attractive face clearly but the lack of light actually made it more interesting for both of us to be out there. I don’t know what exactly the darkness had to do with this, but it certainly added an overwhelming feeling to it all. Maybe it simply takes away the distance between two people who are talking and lets them be themselves. When you are not able to look into the eyes of the other person and read her thoughts, you don’t tend to verify what she is saying. You simply take her as being true to her words. And you love to do so more if she is a gorgeous girl.
It was refreshing out there and the gentle air around me was filled with a wonderful blend of various scents—at times I smelled the steam of coffee, at other times I smelled the fragrance of Simar.
We sat there for a long time.
Almost an hour had passed when the bell rang again.
‘It must be Tanu …I will be back in 20 minutes!’ Simar said mimicking Tanu.
She was about to get up but instead I jumped out of my bean bag to answer the doorbell. It wasn’t locked, though, to keep Simar comfortable. I welcomed Tanu back into my house. ‘Sorry, I am late,’ she apologized and walked ahead of me to look for her friend.
‘Out there in the balcony,’ I told her and then added, ‘Watch your step!’
‘What are you guys doing?’ Tanu casually asked when she was able to trace Simar in the barely lit balcony.
‘Ah … nothing much,’ Simar said. I don’t know, but for some reason Simar didn’t have any answer to her friend’s question.
‘Truth or Dare,’ popped out of my mouth. ‘We were playing Truth or Dare.’ I don’t know why I said that. But I said it.
‘Oh, who won?’ she asked inquisitively.
Simar started giggling when she heard me cooking up this fake story for no reason.
I responded, ‘No one yet, but there are strong chances that I may win.’ And then I tried to change the subject. ‘Sit!’ I said, pushing a chair towards Tanu.
‘Oh no, no. We are already late. We actually need to rush,’ Tanu said instead.
‘It will take me half an hour to cook. We can have dinner together,’ I said. I really didn’t want them to leave.
‘You cook?’ Tanu asked, putting her hands on her hips and giving me a surprised look.
‘Yes.’
‘You know how to cook?’ Simar rose from her chair and joined Tanu.
I was enjoying their shock and answered as I had answered before, ‘Yes,’ and had the last sip of my coffee.
They were quiet for a moment.
‘Why? What happened?’ I asked as I got up and put the cup and cutlery in the tray, ready to take them back to the kitchen.
‘Let me help you.’ Simar sportingly took half of the stuff from my hands and followed me to the kitchen.
‘Because we don’t know how to cook! How come being a guy you know how to cook?’ Tanu exclaimed from the balcony.
‘There is nothing like guys can’t cook and all. It is up to your need and interest. I live alone and I prefer eating Indian food and hence I cook it,’ I answered. Then I asked them, ‘How do you manage your meals then?’
By now Tanu too was at the kitchen door.
Simar replied, ‘We eat in our mess.’
‘Else we have stored surplus Maggi that we get from that Pakistani shop near the Mechelen railway station,’ added Tanu.
‘Oh yes, even I get Indian pulses and vegetables from that shop only,’ I added.
‘Simar, look at the time!’ Tanu pleaded.
‘Oh shit!’
‘Ravin, we need to go now. We are very late.’
‘Yes. And for sure we would love to eat some nice Indian food when we show up the next time!’ Tanu chuckled. Simar gave her an annoyed look.
‘Sure, anytime,’ I responded. I knew that I wouldn’t mind cooking for any of them.
At the door Tanu left first and Simar stood for a last-minute chat.
‘Ah … thanks for coming, Simar. I really had a great time with you,’ I said, before she could say anything.
‘You are welcome and I must say it was a pleasant evening for me. Sorry for being late, though. Chalo, you take care now and I will leave. Happy Birthday once again!’
I smiled and waved my hand. She left. I closed my door and walked back, feeling blissful.
I felt the need to have a drink and to enjoy the last few hours of my birthday. I consumed two cans of Stellas. I emptied the second one listening to some music in my bedroom. For some unknown reason I loved boozing. Hours later my cellphone beeped. I had long been asleep then but the loud beep and vibration of the phone on my bedside woke me up. Half asleep, I read the SMS. It was her—Simar. I was drunk but tried to read the message. There were three words on the screen: ‘Truth or Dare?’
It is early morning. I haven’t been able to sleep much. I am out of my bed way ahead of my usual routine time. I prepare some tea for myself. Standing in the refreshing air of my cold balcony and sipping
the tea from my cup, I am lost in my thoughts.
I am shuttling back and forth between my past and my present. I am trying to knit each and every vital happening from my recent life with what I have already been through in the past and am trying to infer some meaning out of it. I am not even sure if it does have any meaning.
Everything that has happened so far—my coming to Belgium, Simar’s studying next to my office, our frequent interactions … was this all coincidence? Who was driving all this? God?
Why am I thinking about her? After all, who is she? Simply an Indian girl in Belgium, just like hundreds more. But then why am I getting so deeply attracted to her?
Wait. Am I? No, this isn’t true. There is nothing of this sort. How can it be? I have already lived this phase of my life. It can’t happen again.
But then there is something which is bothering me. What is it? I can lie to Sanchit but how do I lie to myself?
All of a sudden the alarm of my watch, back in my bedroom, rings at its routine time and interrupts my thoughts. I realize that I have long drunk my tea. I walk back to my room to get ready.
Eleven
That night had another surprise for me. It was long past midnight and I was wondering whether to reply to her SMS or not. The very idea of learning about each other at that hour of the night through a naughty game was really exciting me—I was on the verge of becoming crazy. I was not sure how she was feeling but the complication was also that I was high and extremely conscious of this fact. Besides, I was struggling with two types of fears at that moment—the fear of getting carried away and becoming the kind of human being I had long left behind and the fear of denying myself a chance to restart a whole new life.
Both were contradictory fears. Now that I had had my share of alcohol, the things that Sanchit had told me earlier appeared to make sense. I’d left India because I wanted a change in my life. I was in Belgium which was offering me a change. I was delighted. But I was confused too. I floated in an oblivious sea of two simple questions—should I or should I not?