I Meet a Guy
“Don’t be sceptical about
this,” Mandakini kept warning. ‘If you go in with your usual cynicism it’s not
likely to go well. Give him a chance: he might turn out to be nice.”
“He has to be a loser if
he’s meeting women for an arranged marriage,” countered Miki.
“You’re going to meet him,”
Mandakini pointed out.
“Yeah, well, I guess I’m a
loser too,” said Miki dolefully. “That doesn’t mean I would like to marry one.”
So I wasn’t really
expecting much from the meeting. Would it have changed how things went if I
had?
“What about the lavender
sweater?” Miki suggested once.
“No, I’ll look shabby in
that!” Mandakini answered. “It’s almost frayed… What about the black one?”
“That needs washing.” I
looked over at the heap of clothes in the laundry bag in the corner. “A pity: that
would have worked well.”
I finally decided on a
dark blue silk top and my work jacket on top of it. “I just hope it’s not too
cold,” Miki said worriedly. The work jacket looked better, but wasn’t nearly as
effective as the bulgy beige one I wore on weekends. And it was a gloomy, windy
day, with the sun refusing to take a peek out.
“You can deal with a bit
of cold,” said Mandakini dismissively. “It’s important to look good.”
I dressed and looked at
myself in the mirror. The clothes did help me look nearly as confident as I
wanted to feel.
“What will I talk about?”
said Mandakini.
“Let’s think about that on
the way there,” said Miki. “It’s already two.”
I rushed into the café, a
little breathless, because it was a few minutes past three. I looked around.
There was no guy waiting alone: there were one or two cosy couples, a few
groups of young people… I walked to a table in the corner and sat down before
digging my phone out of my pocket.
“Hi, Miki!” said Kaushik.
“Oh, you’ve reached? I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
“Sure. I’m at the table at
the corner, on the right from the door.” I settled down and tried to press my
hair back down to my head. A waiter came over, and I asked for a latte. I was
shivering after my long windswept bus and auto rides. Because I was running
late, I had taken an auto down from the bus stop instead of walking the nearly
two kilometres, as I had been tempted to do, to take some of the cold out of my
bones.
My coffee came before
Kaushik did. I looked up as he walked through the door, a stocky young man,
with black hair that stuck straight up from his head. He had lovely almond
shaped eyes – so dark they were almost blue. He was fair, and what looked like
a two-day old stubble covered the lower part of his face. He looked around the
café and then came towards me with his hand outstretched, and I fumbled to get
up and shake it.
“Ma had said he was tall,”
observed Mandakini, when I got up and realised that he was only a couple of
inches taller than me.
“Well, Ma’s shorter than
me. He’s tall enough for an Assamese guy.”
“So, Miki,” he said in his
booming voice when we had both settled down again, “tell me about yourself.”
“What does he think this
is, a job interview?” whispered Miki furiously.
“Lower your eyebrows,”
said Mandakini frantically, “and smile!”
I smiled. “What do you
want to know?”
"What are your
hobbies, for instance?”
“My hobbies!” My lips curled into a sneer
before I hastily pulled them back into a smile.
“No one’s asked me that
since I was in school!” chortled Miki.
“Answer the question!”
Mandakini cried.
“Well, I like reading,” I
said aloud.
“Oh, that’s good. I read a
lot of business and management books, too.”
I smiled politely while
Kaushik told me about some management book he was reading. The waiter came
over.
“I’ll have a chicken puff
and a café frappe,” said Kaushik. “What about you, Miki?”
“Nothing more, thank you,”
I pointed at my almost finished cup of coffee.
“Oh, but you must take
something,” said Kaushik ingratiatingly. “To keep me company.”
It seemed easier to give
in than to argue. “I’ll have a vegetable sandwich, please,” I said to the
waiter. “And an Irish coffee.”
“Why veg? Are you
vegetarian?” Kaushik asked as soon as the waiter left.
“Not exactly. I do eat
non-vegetarian food, but I usually prefer vegetarian.”
“Why?” asked Kaushik
again, looking determined to get to the bottom of the mystery.
“I don’t much like the
taste of non-vegetarian food,” I confessed.
“What? Really?” He seemed
incredulous.
“Why, is that so hard to
believe?” I smiled.
“Yeah, you’re the first
person I’ve ever heard say that. I, on the other hand, am a hardcore
non-vegetarian. I can’t do without non-vegetarian food at any meal. Here in
Delhi, of course, it’s mostly chicken or mutton… I so miss the fish curry my
mom makes… Maybe I can come over to your house for lunch sometime.”
My attention, which had
begun to drift, came back to earth with a thud. “You want me to cook fish curry
for you?” I said slowly.
“Yeah, won’t you? Just as
a friend, of course.” He simpered.
“Why don’t you cook it
yourself? I’m sure you’d know better how your mom makes it.”
“Me, cook?” He laughed as
if at a particularly funny joke. “That’ll be the day! Mind it, I can make a
mean omelette now – all these years of living alone has taught me…”
“Do you live alone?”
“Yeah, oh, of course I
have roommates… There are four of us – it’s a nice large house. And over
weekends sometimes, Ray – he’s a Naga guy – he cooks chicken for us. Of course
he wants to cook pork too, but we don’t let him…”
“Why not?” I asked
politely.
“Oh, that’s not exactly
clean, is it? The rest of us are Hindu…”
“You have a problem with
others eating pork?”
“No, of course not. It’s
just that I wouldn’t want it in my house… I’m sure you’ve never tasted any,
have you?”
“Why would you think so?”
I had stopped battling with my eyebrows now: they seemed to be in a permanent
state of levitation.
“Oh, you have?”
“Indeed, I do. Not often –
as I explained, I don’t like meat much, but I have no qualms about eating beef
or pork…”
Kaushik’s eyebrows were
now rivalling mine.
“Really? And I thought you
were a nice Assamese girl…” He gave a little snigger.
“And nice Assamese girls
don’t eat pork?” I smiled up at him sweetly.
“Well, most Assamese girls
don’t, do they?”
“You must know very different
ones from me, then,” I said politely.
The waiter arrived with
our food, giving us a welcome break.
“Don’t be rude,” Mandakini
was advising frantically. “Give him a chance.”
“I think I’ve given him
enough chances already,” said Miki coldly. “But I won’t be rude, unless I can
help it.”
“So,” said Kaushik,
through a mouthful of puff, “do you like partying?”
I took a sip of my coffee
before answering, “I suppose I would like it if I did any.”
“Oh, why don’t you? Don’t
tell me you’re too busy. I work such long hours, but I make up for it by
partying on weekends.”
“No, I don’t think I’m too
busy at all. I used to go out a bit when I was in college in Delhi, but well,
we were students then, so none of us had much cash… Since then… I guess I don’t
have the right company.”
“But Gurgaon is the best
place to party! I go there almost every weekend! You know what, I’ll give you a
call next time we’re going to a nightclub there, and you can come along.”
“Sure,” I said politely,
unable to think of an excuse right away.
There was an awkward
silence as we both looked around the room.
“So, Kaushik,” I said,
imitating him, before he could think of another question for me, “what are you
looking for in a wife?”
“Oh, I’m not hard to
please or anything. I want a nice, simple woman. Preferably good-looking, who
doesn’t want that? But someone who’ll make my house into a home, you know. I
have lived on my own for so many years… it gets to you. I want to settle down
now, have a family. Of course, she can work – I’d totally support her career –
but I want someone who’ll take care of the house, take care of me…”
“Cook you nice Assamese
food,” I supplied.
“Yeah. Not every day, of
course. But I want a woman who can, you know, hold a family together. A nice Assamese girl. That’s why—even though
I’ve lived in Delhi so many years – I wouldn’t want to marry… you know, someone
who’s not Assamese. I don’t feel she would actually understand me.”
“Indeed.”
“What about you, what are
you looking for in a life-partner?”
“Much the same,” I said
promptly.
“Uh… wha…?”
“Well, not the Assamese
part, of course. I don’t have any restrictions about a particular state or
community. But I too would like someone who would make my house a home, who it
would be nice to come home to at night…”
Kaushik laughed nervously,
clearly unsure whether I was joking or not.
I waited until the waiter
cleared our dishes, and then I looked at my watch.
“It’s already past four!”
I exclaimed. “I have to leave.”
“So soon?” he said
tenderly, leaning forward. His hand crept up the table. I hastily sat back and
pulled both my hands off the table.
“I’m afraid so,” I said
firmly. I pulled my wallet out of my jacket pocket.
“Oh no no no, I’ll pay.”
“Let’s go dutch.”
“No no, I’ll take this.”
But I’d already put a couple of notes on the table.
“You don’t give in easily,
do you?” he smiled.
I grinned back and shook
my head.
“Come, I’ll drop you
home.”
I stopped in surprise.
“No, that isn’t necessary,” I said. I didn’t want to inflict more pain on my
cheeks, which already ached with all the smiling.
“Oh, it’s no problem. Come
on.”
“Let’s compromise,” I
said, hanging back. “Why don’t you drop me off at the bus stop?”
He made more protests, but
I was firm.
“So, what do you think?”
he said when we got into the car. “Should we see each other again?”
“Well, let’s face it,” I
said frankly. “I don’t think I’m the right woman for you. You want someone
more… more of the domestic goddess, shall we say?”
He laughed nervously
again, but didn’t contradict me.
“Let’s not get our hopes
up unnecessarily,” I said kindly.
“We can still meet as
friends, can’t we?” he said as he stopped the car near the bus stop. “I’ll call
you when I next come to Gurgaon.”
“Sure,” I said, in an
unconvincing voice.
12 comments:
wow, a nice one. But then arranged marriages are a gamble. Not that love marriages are not. But i too went through this, ages back, but i just met one girl, did not ask any question, nothing, mostly silence and we married. I hated this, and wanted to get through this, and a gamble it was ... You made me remember that day .. lol
I like the way you've described Kaushik's character through the way he eats, his words. I could almost hear his voice. A little loud, I thought, it was likely to be.
Wishing youd post more often... really enjoying the series
AS: Thanks.
Batul: A little loud is exactly what I'd think to. Your comment's so gratifying.
H: Only a few weeks more to go: I hope you keep enjoying them.
Ahem. "Too", not "to", in my comment to Batul.
Oh Thank God (errr Unmana!) she didnt like him..Raghav it is for her :)
Only a few more weeks to go? Thought u mentioned carrying on for a year, you're just halfway thru.
- Hah! To make the house a home...I loved the way Miki got back ;b
- a few more weeks??? That's all...:(
- Raghav it is :D
This Kaushik guy seems just like a jerk whom I met many eons ago. Same kind of expectations, thank god I did not marry him.
Have been following the story (commented occasionally as well)
This episode was almost predictable ... It sounded as if you had already decided Kaushik was not going to work even before you met him. It was almost like a validation of your thoughts ....
Kaushik presented as an interesting guy would add more spice to Miki's life ... no ? Or you think she is already confused !
Obelix: I don't remember mentioning a time-frame, but sorry to disappoint you. I have been thinking about a sequel, but no promises.
Chickoo: We've all known people like him, haven't we?
CA: Of course, I remember you! I think you're conflating me and Miki a bit: "you had already decided Kaushik was not going to work even before you met him."
That being said, a friend who'd read the story earlier had similar feedback. I thought of revising the chapter, but finally decided to leave it as it was. This was how I'd envisaged Kaushik: I couldn't see him as anyone different.
Besides, he's not really a very unlikely character: Chickoo points out above that she's known someone like him, and so have I.
Poor Kaushik! Seemed to set himself up for instant rejection:(
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