Then we head towards my home.

  Eighteen

  SANDEEP IS OUTSIDE THE HOUSE PACING UP AND down, when Tanu and I arrive in the hired hotel car. One look at him and I know he is murderously angry. The wine has really gone to my head now and I try hard to suppress my giggles. I find his angry, balding face apt to be caricatured.

  He looks puzzled when the car stops and Tanu emerges. I continue sitting in the car.

  ‘Hi, I am Tanu, Diksha’s friend,’ says Tanu as she extends her hand. Tanu is sober and can obviously hold her drink, unlike me, the novice.

  Sandeep’s jaw almost drops to the floor. He is clearly flabbergasted by how gorgeous she is.

  ‘Uh—oh. I am Sandeep, her husband,’ he says and his astonished look sends me into a fresh paroxysm of giggles that I quickly suppress.

  ‘Where is Diksha?’ asks Sandeep.

  Both of them look towards the car and I realise they cannot see me because of the tinted windows. I am forced to open the door and climb out.

  ‘Here I am. Ta-da,’ I say and chuckle.

  Tanu smiles and Sandeep cannot, for the life of him, figure out what has come over me.

  ‘We just had some wine to drink and Diksha isn’t used to it. She will be fine, won’t you, babes?’ asks Tanu as she takes my arm and we march inside, leaving a gaping Sandeep behind to follow suit.

  Sandeep scuttles around asking Tanu if she is comfortable and if he can fetch her something to drink. I am seeing this avatar of my husband—the cordial host—for the first time and I am stunned at how he is meting out the royal treatment to Tanu. I have never seen him behave like this.

  ‘Yes please, what do you have? I wouldn’t mind another glass of wine, really,’ she says with a straight face and watches Sandeep squirm in embarrassment.

  ‘Uh, sorry. I don’t have wine,’ he says.

  ‘Oh, then it’s fine. Whatever you have, really. Vodka, whiskey, anything is okay,’ she says and winks at me.

  Sandeep doesn’t know what to say.

  ‘Sorry, I don’t drink. We do not have hard drinks in the house, actually,’ he fumbles.

  ‘Oh is it? Such a shame,’ she says, narrowing her eyes and looking flirtatiously at him, as though making a pass.

  He is clearly very uncomfortable. She is thoroughly enjoying herself and I am too.

  He begins to perspire now and takes out his handkerchief to dab his forehead. He looks totally lost.

  ‘Hey, relax. I was just kidding. I have to leave now, in any case. I just came to drop off Diksha. Bye, babes, and we will catch up soon? I need you to help me choose all my furniture. I will call and pick you up, okay?’ she says and with that she is gone.

  Sandeep stares after her as though she is an apparition. He does not know what has just happened. He looks dazed.

  Then he catches me looking at him and quickly composes himself.

  ‘What the hell, Diksha? Are you drunk?’ he says

  ‘Just a little wine, darling,’ I say and laugh uncontrollably. I have never used words like ‘darling’ with him before. I cannot stop myself.

  Sandeep is too taken aback to react. That amuses me no end. It is the first time in all the years of marriage that I have seen him like this.

  ‘You look like a goldfish, opening and closing your mouth like that. It doesn’t suit you, you know,’ I say.

  Then I feel something rising in my mouth. I run to the loo downstairs and throw up violently. I shudder at the bitter taste. I rise, rinse my mouth and gargle, but the horrid taste still lingers.

  ‘See, this is what happens when you indulge in such nonsense. Drinking is nothing to be proud of,’ says Sandeep angrily.

  I have nothing to say. I wash my face and plonk myself on the sofa.

  ‘What? It is your own stupid fault. Who told you to drink? You think it is so very cool, don’t you?’ he follows me and continues watching me.

  It is not because I think it is cool, it is only because I have never done it and I want to know what it feels like. It is because I became a mother at an age most people go out pubbing and drinking and I had to change diapers and sing lullabies. I had a drink with a friend. Is that so wrong? Is it such a crime?

  ‘And let me tell you, all this drinking and everything, it leads to no good. And by the way, what are we having for dinner tonight?’ He continues in a smug superior, preachy tone.

  ‘Shut the fuck up. Is dinner all you can think of?’ I want to scream. I can always blame it on the wine later, I think. But somehow I don’t.

  Sometimes in a marriage, it is easier to just buy peace and pay the price of swallowing your ego and keeping quiet.

  The next day, long after Sandeep leaves for work, I get a text from Gaurav:

  ‘Want to join me for lunch? I will pick you up and drop you back.’ It reads.

  I am too overwhelmed by my little drinking adventure and don’t feel like seeing him today.

  ‘Not today. Can I take a rain check?’ I text back.

  ‘Anytime! Whenever you feel like, just text. See you in class on Friday.’ His text comes promptly making me smile.

  ‘Do you always chase all your women students like this?’ I text back smiling.

  ‘Only the married ones☺!!!’ His reply makes me smile even wider.

  I call up Vibha and update her on all the happenings and the adventures that I have had since we last spoke. Vibha chuckles to hear how astonished Sandeep was to see Tanu, and to hear about his behaviour around her, and how she was teasing him. I tell her that I had my first glass of wine and got drunk.

  ‘Oh my God, Diksha! You managed to tick off one more item on your wish list!’ she says.

  ‘What?’ I ask puzzled, as I try to remember what it could possibly be. Then it strikes me that one of the things that I had written (of course, purely on a whim) was ‘getting drunk’, and I had managed to do that last evening.

  ‘Oh yes, I had almost forgotten. How did you remember?’ I smile.

  ‘How can you forget your wish list?! I remember everything you wrote. I had told you I will push you to achieve it. And I will do just that. You wait and see. And by the way, what is Ankit doing? Where is he based now? Did you both talk about him?’

  ‘You know, Vibha, I am going to call Tanu right now and ask her. We talked about everything under the sun and somehow we did not speak about Ankit at all. I just have to know now. I can’t wait any longer,’ I say.

  I call Tanu and she says she will forward me a few mails that she and Ankit exchanged. She adds that she had meant to do it much earlier, but wanted to meet me first before forwarding anything.

  ‘Why? Why did you want to meet me first?’ I ask.

  ‘Somehow, that seemed the right thing to do. Read the mails and you will understand why,’ she says.

  I rush to the computer and wait impatiently for Tanu’s mail.

  I keep hitting the refresh button and finally, on the third try, there it is. The string of messages that Tanu has exchanged with Ankit. My heart beats increase rapidly and I scroll down to the bottom of the messages and begin to read.

  From: Ankit Uttam ([email protected])

  To: Tanushree Dev ([email protected])

  Subject: Reaching out

  Hi there,

  Is this the same Tanushree, better known as Tanu, who once wrote a rather bold note in a senior’s book? ☺

  Of course, the details of your batch year seem to match, and, as far as I can remember, there was just one Tanu in the whole school.

  But, in case I have made a mistake, please ignore this mail. I have been trying hard to get in touch with someone who was in school with me, and when Blast from the Past threw up your contact, it was hard to pass up.☺

  Ankit

  From: Tanushree Dev ([email protected])

  To: Ankit Uttam ([email protected])

  Subject: Reaching out

  Ankit!!

  You devil!

  Yes, it is me.

  It is Diksha you are tryin
g so desperately to get in touch with, isn’t it? Say!

  Where are you based now? What do you do? Give me ALL details please. Where did you go after school?

  I did my graduation from Delhi and then my MBA from Australia. I am based in Gurgaon right now with an international bank, but will be moving soon to Bangalore.

  Your phone number(s) please!

  Tanu

  From: Ankit Uttam ([email protected])

  To: Tanushree Dev ([email protected])

  Subject: Reaching out

  Tanu!

  Hey!

  I knew it was you. I was 99.9% sure. But left that .01% to chance and hence wrote a ‘disclaimer’ line.

  Yes, I have been trying hard to locate Diksha all these years. There seems to be no trace of her or Rohan (not that he will want to speak to me). I did get in touch with a few of my batch mates but they had no idea either.

  I truly cannot get over what happened to her and how she was pulled out of school. I felt guilty for years. I guess I still do.

  And even you stopped talking to me after that incident. And then I finished my twelfth, and we were scattered all over.

  My parents sent me to Canada for an engineering degree.

  Got into Wharton for my MBA. Did a dual-degree programme there (and so I have an MA in International Studies as well). Joined my dad’s business. But got bored.

  Diversified and started my own chain of resorts, which I now manage and head and, at the risk of sounding boastful, I must tell you, we have branches all over the world now. ☺

  If you, by any chance, are in touch with Diksha, do pass me her contact details.

  Ankit

  From: Tanushree Dev ([email protected])

  To: Ankit Uttam ([email protected])

  Subject: Reaching out

  Are you sure you looked properly in the site for Diksha? ☺

  Look again.

  I am mailing her straight away.

  And you never gave me your number.

  Tanu

  From: Ankit Uttam (ankit2112@ uttamhospitality.com)

  To: Tanushree Dev ([email protected])

  OMG! You are right!

  How could I miss it? I swear, I looked for months and never saw her name.

  In fact, even when I saw yours, hers wasn’t there.

  Is it the same Diksha?

  Please check and tell. I don’t want to mail her just yet.

  A

  From: Tanushree Dev ([email protected])

  To: Ankit Uttam (ankit2112@ uttamhospitality.com)

  Subject: Reaching out

  I just mailed her. I too had searched many times earlier, but she wasn’t there. She must have registered recently. Will let you know when she replies.

  And I am not going to ask for your number again.

  Mine are here in this mail.

  Tanu

  The mails ended here.

  I read them again and again. It really is Ankit. My Ankit.

  And he has been desperate to get in touch with me.

  Why hasn’t he got in touch with me, then?

  I want to know and I want to know right now. So I call up Tanu.

  When she answers, I ask if it’s okay for her to talk now.

  ‘Of course, babes. Anytime. Never too busy for you,’ she says

  ‘Tanu, I read the mails. Why hasn’t Ankit got in touch with me? Why do the mails end abruptly?’

  ‘That is because he called me after the last mail, silly.’

  ‘Oh! You never said a thing!’

  ‘You never asked,’ she says and I can almost feel her smile.

  ‘I wanted to but…’ I trail off.

  ‘I know. See, the thing is, I wanted to see you first. I wanted to see if you were happy in your marriage. To know if you really want Ankit back in your life, at this point.’

  ‘What? You wanted to see? How can you take a call on that? How can you decide my life for me? What if I was perfectly content in my marriage? What would you have done then?’

  ‘I would have told Ankit that this is not our Diksha, it is someone else and the email ID is fake.’

  I know she is only teasing. I hound her to tell me all about her conversation with Ankit. I want to know all the details. How he sounds, does he still speak the same way, what did they talk about.

  Tanu says that Ankit and she had talked for a long time immediately after that mail. She wanted to tell me about it when we first met, but somehow the time didn’t seem right. She said that Ankit had mentioned that even though he really wants to get in touch with me, he wants to be certain that I do too.

  Then after Tanu had met and talked to me, she had once again contacted Ankit and confirmed that it was indeed me and that I was now married and based in Bangalore and had a child too. She said that Ankit was quiet for a long time. She had asked him if he was okay and he had replied that he was as okay as he could ever be.

  Tanu wasn’t sure how to tell me all this, which was one of the reasons why she kept stalling it.

  But now that I had brought it up, she had no choice but to tell me in detail.

  My head is reeling with this entire information-overload about Ankit.

  I do not know what to say or do. I tell Tanu that there is someone at the door and I have to hang up.

  ‘Okay. Call me right back after you attend to whoever it is,’ she says and hangs up.

  I lie on the bed and I think about all of this. It is obvious that Ankit does want to contact me, but maybe he is not making the first move as he knows I am married and a mother now. I am in a dilemma.

  The easiest thing for me would be to not get in touch with Ankit. Treat all of it like it never happened. After all, Ankit hasn’t reached out.

  But how can I not reach out to him, now that I know this much has happened? The meeting with Tanu has brought back all the memories of Ankit and all the time we spent together.

  He seems to have taken a permanent place in my head these days. I just cannot stop thinking of him.

  There is only one way to deal with ghosts of the past. To lay them to rest, I have to face them. And in order to do that, I have to speak to Ankit.

  There is no doubt at all in my mind now.

  I call Tanu right back.

  ‘Hey, babes,’ I say. ‘Please pass me Ankit’s number. I want to talk to him.’

  Nineteen

  IT ISN’T OFTEN THAT THE PAST COMES CALLING. And sometimes when it does, you have no choice but to answer.

  Ankit—a name that has haunted me and changed the entire course of my life—a name which still has the power to give me goose bumps all over my skin and a tightness in my throat. Mostly, when memories of him had come to mind, I had not allowed myself to luxuriate in them, instead I had pushed them aside forcibly, rudely, and had continued with my mundane chores. I had convinced myself that the domesticity I had settled for was bliss. But over the years, the veil has worn thin and I know now that delusion can work only up to a point and no further.

  Now, I know, more than ever before, I just have to speak to Ankit.

  And even though I am alone in the house, I lock myself in my bedroom to make the call. The guilt is that deeply ingrained. I guess, things that happen to you when you are sixteen seep into your blood and grow with you.

  When he answers, it feels as though a million butterflies have been let loose inside the hollow of my stomach. His voice is deeper, more suave, and polished now. Yet he sounds the same as he did all those years ago. I pause just for a few seconds to absorb the impact of the moment—the fact that at the other end of the line is someone who has cast his presence over my entire life, without even being there.

  ‘Hello?’ he says again.

  ‘Ankit, it is me,’ I say and am quiet.

  There is silence for a few seconds.

  And then he says, ‘Oh my God. Is this real? Give me a minute.’

  I hear him ask someone to excuse him as he needs to take this call. I hear a shuffling of the chair and guess that whoeve
r he was with has left the room.

  ‘Hey, Diksha,’ he says. His voice is almost a whisper.

  ‘Yes,’ I say and then I am unable to say anything more even though there are a million things I want to say.

  The silence between us speaks a thousand words. We sit, submerged in the quietness, holding on to our receivers listening to each other breathe. A sudden waft of breeze rattles my window panes ever so slightly. There is complete silence from his end.

  I guess he is in office which is probably soundproof.

  ‘You have no idea how much I have tried to track you down,’ he finally says, breaking the silence which was screaming in our ears.

  ‘So now that you have found me, what are you going to do?’ I smile.

  ‘I will fly soon to Bangalore,’ he replies.

  ‘You aren’t serious?’

  ‘Never been more serious in my life. I am not kidding. I want to meet you. Real bad. ’

  I don’t know what to say, really. I too want to meet him, but I am drowning in a flood of emotions. There is exhilaration on one side, and trepidation and nervousness on the other.

  ‘So where are you right now?’ I ask

  ‘Doha. I’ll fly back to India tonight,’ he says.

  ‘To which place?’

  ‘Mumbai. And then I will take a flight to Bangalore.’

  ‘Wow,’ I say and stop at that.

  ‘You will meet me, won’t you?’

  ‘Have I ever said no to you, Ankit?’

  ‘God, Diksha, I do want to tell you how very sorry I am. Back then, I was helpless, but now I am not, and you have no idea how happy I feel right now, speaking to you. ’

  ‘Me too, Ankit. Me too.’

  And with that our tryst is sealed. Laced in secrecy. Shrouded in guilt.

  The unfinished business between us that changed both our lives forever, has come cruising back into our lives and is begging to reach completion.

  It has been eighteen long years and it is time to make amends.

  And so I hear myself asking him his flight details, where he will stay? (At The Leela, no less, I note), for how many days will he be here? I hear him reply that he is flying down just to meet me and will leave the same day. I inhale sharply at that.