Falling into Place Page 11

  Tara watched her mother and Sameen engaged in an animated conversation as they set the table in the dining area. She felt a sudden hollowness.

  What if she didn’t have to keep holding back all the time?

  The thought jerked her back to reality. Wow, where did that come from?

  Sameen looked at the phone on her lap for the umpteenth time, making sure the people sitting around the table hadn’t noticed. This had to be the longest lunch of her life. Rohan’s parents had invited her to a fancy restaurant that served the best Italian cuisine in the city, but the conversation had been mind-numbing.

  Five minutes after arriving at the restaurant, she had realized she didn’t have anything to contribute to the discussion that Rohan’s parents were steering. It was all about money, business, property, the stock market, and more money. She had tuned out ages ago, and hoped she was smiling and nodding in all the right places.

  “What do you think, Sameen?”

  She was startled out of her languor to find three sets of eyes looking at her expectantly.

  “Um…” she said, having no clue who had asked the question and, worse, what that question was. She slowly picked up the glass of water in front of her and took a sip to buy herself some time when her phone rang. Relief washed over her, which was immediately replaced with joy as Tara’s face lit up her phone.

  “Excuse me, I have to take this,” she said as she got up from her chair and headed towards the door.

  “Your timing is impeccable,” Sameen said when she stepped out of the restaurant.

  “I take it lunch is not going well?” Tara asked.

  “I think I would have more fun dead.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Yeah. You have no idea how happy I am to hear your voice. You just saved me from the most embarrassing moment of my life.”

  “Always glad to be of service.”

  Sameen smiled. Tara had been her saviour once again. She was losing count of the number of times her friend had bailed her out. She always knew when Sameen needed her most and exactly what that need was. Sameen had never shared such a deep connection with any of her friends, and she knew now what a big void Tara’s presence filled in her life.

  “I was calling to ask if you’d like to go out tomorrow evening,” Tara continued. “You know they are shutting down Regal in a few months, right?”

  “Ah yes, the oldest and famous-est movie theatre in the city that all you Delhi-ites are so proud of?”

  “Yes. That theatre was such a big part of my childhood. My parents and I watched many movies there. They’re having a Raj Kapoor retrospective at the moment. I wondered if you’d like to come and see Mera Naam Joker with me tomorrow.”

  “Of course I’ll come with you,” Sameen said. The thought of an outing with Tara filled her with happiness.

  “Great. Thanks,” Tara said. “I’ll let you get back to your lunch.”

  “Ugh. I’ll see you at home if I survive.”

  Chapter 18

  The entrance to Regal Cinema was packed. People jostled each other in long queues at the ticket counter, trying to figure out if they could still buy tickets, the prominently displayed board that had “House Full” painted on it in bold letters notwithstanding. The white walls of the building were decorated with colourful posters from Raj Kapoor’s films, in front of which many people were taking selfies and videos.

  Tara stood still, studying the crowd as she mentally mapped a route through it towards the lobby. Just then she heard Sameen’s voice in her ear.

  “Wow. I’m so glad you bought the tickets in advance. We would’ve never got any here.”

  “I owe a lot of people a lot of favours,” Tara said. “Come on.”

  Without another thought, she grabbed Sameen’s hand and led them towards the lobby, following the mental map she’d just made. She only became aware of what she’d done when the warmth and softness of Sameen’s hand in hers sent waves of pleasure through her arm. Conflicting feelings warred within her—should she hold on or let go? Before she could find a solution, they had entered the calmer and quieter lobby, and Tara dropped her hand like it was a bomb.

  “Um, do you want popcorn or something?” Tara asked, fidgeting with the strap of her handbag.

  “Of course. But let me take care of that. You go grab our seats and I’ll meet you inside.”

  “Okay,” she said, handing Sameen her ticket.

  Tara found her seat and plonked herself in it, taking a few deep breaths. How could such an innocent contact take her breath away like this?

  Enough, she told herself.

  The seats she had managed to get were in the first row in the balcony, from where the entire layout of the theatre was visible. She put her arms on the balustrade and peered at the lower stall. It looked quite run-down. The front stall seats, which were all bent at odd angles, had nails and screws poking out from various joints. The blue-and-white paint on the walls was chipping and there was a big patch of water seepage in one corner. The floor also needed repairing. The only things that had retained their charm were the colonial-style arches spread all along the left and right of the hall. Perhaps it wasn’t such a bad thing that the place was being renovated.

  “Feeling nostalgic about your childhood?” Sameen asked as she handed Tara a Coke and settled into the seat on her right.

  “Not really. This place can definitely do with a bit of serious sprucing up,” Tara said as she straightened in her seat.

  “Ah, they’re dimming the lights,” Sameen said, turning towards the screen. “You know, I’ve never seen this film before. It’s such a classic; I don’t know how I’ve missed watching it.”

  Tara looked at Sameen. She was transfixed by the way the light from the screen made Sameen’s face glimmer. Her nerve endings felt like they were on high alert. She was hyperaware of Sameen’s every movement, the smell of her perfume, the rise and fall of her chest.

  Tara was struggling to bring her focus back to the movie when Sameen gently touched her arm as she whispered, “That’s Rishi Kapoor, isn’t it? He must have barely been sixteen when he acted in this.”

  The warmth of Sameen’s hand on her arm and her breath caressing Tara’s ear caused shivers to run down Tara’s body, to places she didn’t even know existed. She had no idea what was going on in the film, even though she’d seen it a few times before. She was even struggling to remember what Sameen had said.

  “Huh? Um…yeah…it is…” Tara cleared her throat. “It was his…er…first film,” she somehow managed to get out.

  Sameen moved her hand away, and Tara breathed a sigh of relief.

  This was not good.

  “Home!” cried Sameen, letting her suitcase go, which fell over with a thump on the floor. She flopped on the sofa, spreading her arms and legs wide to take up the entire space. “Oh, I missed you so much.”

  “I missed you too,” Rohan said, trying to squeeze in beside her.

  “I don’t mean you, silly. I was talking to the sofa.”

  “You know what, I don’t even care right now. I love my parents, but I’m so happy to get my home back.” Rohan let his head fall back against the sofa. “Oh, I feel ten kilos lighter.”

  “Was it really awful, having your parents here?” Sameen asked.

  “Well, it was weird. They sort of took over—my mum cooked and managed the house, my dad got provisions and stuff. It was like I was a little boy again. They paid for everything. They didn’t seem to get the fact that I’ve been living on my own for years now and I can look after myself.”

  “Yeah, well, parents. They can be clueless like that.” Sameen leaned on Rohan’s shoulder. “I’m happy to be back too.”

  “Was it really terrible at Tara’s, then? Did she give you only dry bread and water?”

  “Oh, it was just ghastly,” Sameen said. “I slept in a cupboard und
er the stairs.”

  “Guess what, you can have your very own bed now.”

  “My very own? But where will you sleep?”

  “Hmm…bathroom mat?”

  “Okay, sounds fair.”

  They sat lazily in silence for a while. Sameen looked around the room. It was good to be home, but truth be told, she would miss Tara quite a bit. She would miss their late-night chats and their marathon TV series sessions. Not to mention getting up late the next day, bleary-eyed and rushing about to make it to work on time. She would even miss dividing up the daily chores—at least till Chhaya had come back and been appalled that Tara had been making her work. Her heart sank at thinking there would be no more midnight hot chocolates or stretching out on the carpet under blankets in front of the TV.

  Rohan broke the silence. “What are you thinking?”

  “Nothing,” Sameen said, feeling a little guilty. “Just that I had fun staying with Tara.”

  “But I’m your favourite roomie, no?” he said, putting his arm around her.

  “Yup,” Sameen replied automatically. “Of course.”

  Rohan moved closer and Sameen closed her eyes as their lips touched. She allowed the kiss to deepen, realizing it had been quite a while and she’d missed this too.

  “Hey, Sameen, you forgot—”

  They sprang apart. Sameen turned towards the door and froze. Tara was standing there with a small bag in her hand.

  “Oh, sorry. I-I just…” Tara began, looking around everywhere but at them. “I’ll see you later.” She dumped the bag on the floor and turned.

  “Tara, don’t go.” Rohan jumped up from the sofa and walked towards her. “Come on in. I was just going to open some wine. Will you join us?”

  “I-I don’t want to disturb you. Also, I have some work to take care of.”

  “You’re not disturbing us. Stay for one drink. I haven’t had the chance to properly thank you for taking such good care of my girlfriend. Sameen, you ask her. She’ll stay if you ask.”

  Sameen blinked at Rohan. She was still on the sofa, not trusting her legs to hold her if she stood, though she wasn’t sure why. She was also having a tough time looking at Tara, but she knew both of them were waiting for her to say something. She looked away from Rohan and forced herself to meet Tara’s eyes.

  “Stay,” she said softly.

  Tara looked at her, an unfamiliar expression on her face.

  “Please,” Sameen said, no longer able to hold Tara’s gaze. From the corner of her vision, she saw Tara nod.

  “Okay.”

  “Great.” Rohan grinned and went into the kitchen.

  An awkward silence descended on the room.

  “Um, sit,” Sameen said, looking at Tara’s shoulder.

  “Huh? Oh yeah,” replied Tara and came over and sat on the chair next to the sofa. The silence between them was unbearable. Sameen desperately looked for something to say, but words were completely failing her.

  “So the house is yours again? You must be so glad to be back home,” Tara said to the coffee table.

  “Y-yeah.”

  “So when are your parents coming over?”

  “Not anytime soon. I’ll be visiting them early next year. My cousin’s getting married.”

  “Oh, nice.”

  Rohan returned with three glasses and a bottle of wine, and placed them on the table. He filled the glasses and handed them out to Tara and Sameen simultaneously.

  “Here you are, ladies.” He sat down and put his free arm around Sameen, and raising his glass. “Let’s drink to parent-free homes.”

  “To parent-free homes,” the women repeated, and sipped from their glasses.

  “We should do something to reclaim our house. What do you think?” Rohan looked from Sameen to Tara.

  Rohan’s arm felt like a log on Sameen’s shoulders.

  Tara seemed to be studying the row of cookbooks on the shelf.

  Still focused on figuring out what she was feeling, Sameen only half heard Rohan’s question. “Hmm?”

  “I know.” Rohan clapped his hands, making Sameen jump. He swivelled to face her with a wide grin. “We should have a celebration. A biiig party!”

  “A New Year’s party?” ventured Tara.

  “Yes.” Rohan rubbed his hands together. “A theme party. Ooh, I know, Sameen and I saw this in a movie—let’s have a celebrity fancy-dress party.”

  Rohan chattered on happily, clearly oblivious of the awkwardness in the room. Sameen sneaked a glance at Tara, who was giving her wine undue attention. She couldn’t understand it. Why had things suddenly become uncomfortable with Tara? Was it because she’d walked in when she and Rohan were kissing? But this wasn’t the first time they’d kissed in front of friends. Sameen had never felt so self-conscious about it earlier. So what was different this time?

  What is happening to me?

  Chapter 19

  “What’s that?” Sameen pointed to a giant pair of red lips on a stick.

  “What?” asked Barkha with an innocent air. She was wearing a stunning silver off-the-shoulder gown, intricately embroidered all over, with a lacy band joining the bodice and the skirt, which showed off her midriff. Her hair had been carefully sculpted to fall over one bare shoulder. Her shoulders and neck were also speckled with glitter. She looked lovely and seemed completely oblivious to the cold—but that didn’t explain her peculiar prop.

  “Oh these? They are my lips,” she said.

  “Pardon?”

  “I’m Priyanka Chopra,” Barkha replied with a grin. She gave the lips a waggle. “Get it?”

  Sameen laughed, shaking her head. “Very clever.” She led Barkha away from the landing, towards the front door of her flat. “Hi,” she said to Kunal, who was trailing Barkha.

  He gave her a sheepish grin. He had on a (definitely designer) suit, a navy-blue silk tie, and white shirt. He’d done something odd to his hair.

  “And you are?” Sameen asked.

  He pointed to his head. “Don’t recognize the bird’s nest?”

  “Right, hello, Mr Trump.”

  Kunal narrowed his eyes and took in Sameen’s outfit. “And who are you supposed to be?”

  Sameen had dyed her hair deep red and let it fall around her face in her natural frizzy curls. She had on a black dress, black stockings, knee-length leather boots, and a chunky black-and-blue-beaded necklace. Rectangular black-framed glasses completed her look.

  Milind came up the stairs and grinned at Sameen. “Is that what she looks like, then, this Mona Eltahawy?”

  “Who?” asked Kunal.

  “A famous African journalist and author that Sameen has a crush on,” Milind told him.

  “Hey!” Sameen shook a finger in warning at Milind. “Behave. She is my new favourite author. And who are you, Random Bow-Tie Man?”

  Milind patted his bow tie and straightened his jacket. “I like my martinis shaken, not stirred.”

  Sameen put her hands on her hips. “I said the theme was celebrities.”

  “He is a celebrity,” insisted Milind.

  “There’s a, um, Harry Potter coming up the stairs,” Kunal pointed out diffidently.

  “That’s Ashish, my partner.”

  “Don’t you two make the perfect couple,” Sameen said. “Kunal, this is my misguided friend, Milind. Milind, Kunal—husband of Priyanka Chopra over there by the drinks table.”

  “Hi, Kunal.” Milind shook his hand. “Come, let’s get this party started.”

  Kunal followed him and Ashish inside, looking somewhat wary. Sameen didn’t blame him. This was so different from the kind of parties he threw. Nearly thirty people must have been squeezed into the living room of the flat. Rohan and Sameen had moved the furniture against the wall, and some tables had been set up outside on the balcony for the drinks. Sameen wondered
why Tara wasn’t here yet. She couldn’t wait to see which celebrity she’d chosen. Sameen hadn’t seen her since the day Tara had walked in on Rohan and Sameen kissing. They had had different schedules at work and hadn’t managed to catch each other since, though they had talked briefly on the phone a couple of times.

  “Sameen, where are the rest of the glasses?” someone called out.

  “I think they’re in the kitchen,” Sameen said. “Hang on, I’ll get them.”

  She squeezed past the gaggle of guests and went into the kitchen, but Rohan was already taking care of the glasses.

  “Everything under control?” she asked.

  “Yup.”

  Sameen slipped into the bedroom to run a brush through her hair. When she came back out to her party, Milind pounced on her.

  “There you are. Come see if you can guess who Tara is.”

  Sameen caught sight of Tara in that instant, talking to Barkha on the balcony. And that one glimpse was enough to take her breath away.

  Tara had on a royal blue kanjeevaram silk sari with a double weave that gave it a maroon shimmer when she moved. It was dotted with tiny floral motifs and had a dark maroon-and-gold border. The blouse was a dull gold, and backless, the golden cord that tied at the back standing out against her skin. She wore a large blue bindi, and her hair fell in loose waves around her face.

  As if by a secret signal, Tara turned around and looked straight at Sameen. For a couple of seconds, the air stilled around them. Then Tara smiled.

  Sameen swallowed and forced herself to smile back. She went closer.

  “Hey,” she said, her mouth dry.

  “Hey yourself,” Tara replied.

  “You came as Loveleen Bing?”

  “I thought you’d find it funny.”

  “You look…breathtaking.”

  “She does, doesn’t she?” Barkha put in.

  Sameen jumped. She’d forgotten the others were there. She looked at Milind, who raised his eyebrows at her.