One Indian Girl(43)

Lost in these thoughts, I boarded the Cathay Pacific plane with its dark-green interiors. I sat in the plush business-class seat, courtesy of my bank, the only one in the world that seemed to care about me.

A pretty Chinese girl in a fitted red cheongsam dress came up to me. She offered me a glass of champagne. I declined. I had no reason to celebrate. I looked out the window as the plane started to taxi for its long sixteen-hour flight. My eyes filled with tears. I felt lost in my luxurious surroundings. Too sad to stay. Too sad to leave. Perhaps this is how it will be from now, I thought. I will remain sad forever. The plane took off. I continued to cry as New York became smaller and smaller in my window.

The flight attendant noticed my tears. After the seatbelt signs went off, she came up to me with a hot towel and tissues. I used the hot towel to wipe my face. The heat felt nice on my skin.

‘Thank you,’ I said.

‘Would you like to eat something, ma’am?’ she said.

I shook my head.

‘Maybe just the starter? We also have a lovely carrot-and-ginger soup.’

I nodded. She pulled out my tray table and placed a white cloth on it. She took another cloth napkin and placed it on my lap. She brought me a tray of food. It contained fresh salad, soup and brown bread. I had not eaten all day. I finished everything on my tray.

Later, she offered a raspberry pudding for dessert. After I ate it all up she brought me hot peppermint tea. I enjoyed her full attention.

Is this the kind of wife men want?

‘Ready for bed?’ she said.

I nodded. She adjusted my seat and converted it into a flat bed. She placed a white sheet and pillow on it. As I lay down, she draped a quilt over me. I realized something. Debu wasn’t the only one. I also wanted someone like this lady to take care of me. Why can’t women get a wife?





18


I wiped a tear from the corner of my right eye. A bit of kajal came away on my finger. I sat down on the leg raise machine. Debu continued to look at me with an apologetic expression.

‘I have not forgotten anything, Debu. But I don’t need to be reminded of it either.’

‘I am sorry, baby,’ he said and touched my elbow. I pushed his hand away. I stood up to leave.

‘I need to go. And you have to stop calling me baby.’

I tried to walk past him. He blocked me.

‘What?’ I said.

‘Please. Stay. Listen to me. Please.’

‘What’s the point? I have literally a hundred people waiting upstairs.’

My phone rang.

‘See, it is my sister,’ I said.

‘Tell her you need ten more minutes.’

‘What for?’ I placed a finger on my lips to signal Debu to be quiet and answered the call.

‘Yeah, didi. I went to the washroom. . .no, not in the room. . .I am coming. Give me five minutes. . .no need to come fetch me. . .I will come on my own.’

I hung up. I saw Debu. His eyes, his dreamy puppy-dog eyes, continued to look at me.

‘What?’ I said.

‘I made the biggest mistake of my life,’ Debu said.

‘It doesn’t matter,’ I said. Even though I said it didn’t matter, I did feel good inside. At least he finally felt some regret.

‘You were the best thing that happened to me. Seriously,’ Debu said.

‘Why? That white chick didn’t work out?’

‘Who?’

‘That girl. Who was with you when I. . .’

‘No. We tried. There was no intellectual match.’

‘Oh, you care about a girl’s intellect too now?’

‘Of course I do. I always did. That is why I liked you.’

‘That is also why you dumped me.’

‘I told you. I made a mistake. A big mistake. Monumental mistake.’

‘You said my job would harden me. What else did you say? You had a vision for the mother of your kids. You wanted me to quit working.’

‘I am sorry. I became a little insecure.’

‘Oh, really? Now you realize it! You weren’t a little insecure. You were monumentally insecure.’

I realized my volume had increased. A body-builder-type white guy stared at us through his bicep curls.

‘Do you have any idea how much I loved you?’ I said.

He kept quiet, his head down. I noticed the thick curls on his head. I continued, ‘I was ready to quit my job. Just to make you happy. I came to Brooklyn to tell you I would resign. I wanted to propose to you that night. You wanted a simple family. I was game. I even bought a ring.’

‘You did?’ he said, looking up, his eyes wide.

I shook my head.

‘All pointless, Debu. My family is upstairs. Can I go now? And I suggest you leave Goa soon too.’

He grabbed my hand. I extracted it, almost in reflex.

‘What are you doing, Debu? My would-be in-laws are in this hotel.’

‘I know. I just. . .’ And then he did something I have never seen him do. He started to cry. Puzzled gym trainers must have been wondering why a grown-up man was crying in their gym even before he had begun to exercise.

‘Don’t make a scene, Debu,’ I said. I tried to remain unaffected, but to see him cry like this choked me. He knelt on the floor.

‘Please, baby. Please, I beg you,’ Debu said. ‘I have come all the way from New York.’