One Indian Girl(9)

‘You are not annoying,’ he said.

‘Clearly you don’t know me yet.’

‘I wanted to see you before we left. My gang wanted to see all the dressed-up Mehta girls.’

‘Your gang is not laying an eye on my innocent cousins.’

I ended the call and turned to Aditi didi, who continued to adjust her dress in front of the mirror. ‘Didi, you do realize it is my bachelorette?’



‘There it is,’ said Jyoti, my second cousin, pointing at a huge flaming-yellow lit-up sign for Love Passion Karma or LPK. The club, half an hour from the hotel, was located at the waterfront of Nerul River and decorated in an over-the-top Paleolithic era theme, with stone caves and giant stone statues of the early man on the lawn. We were a group of fifteen girls. Suraj had also arranged two bouncers for us. We had a table in a semi-private area, with balloons and champagne bottles.

Nice job, Suraj, I thought.

‘Some of the girls seem too young, madam,’ the club owner told Aditi didi.

‘Everyone is above eighteen,’ didi said firmly.

‘Some people in your group do look underage, ma’am,’ he said.

‘It’s okay. Give them soft drinks. But get my sister drunk tonight.’

‘No, didi,’ I said in vain as the owner brought a round of tequila shots. I had to take two. Jyoti asked for another round. Rajni, our neighbour’s daughter, wanted the music louder. Shruti, my childhood friend from school, wanted Honey Singh songs. Saloni, Aditi didi’s best friend, felt we should play drinking games until someone puked. There is nothing as crazy as fifteen Punjabi girls determined to go out of control. I took out my phone. I had a message from Brijesh.

‘Club Cubana is nice. Thanks.’

‘You are welcome. How is it going?’ I said.

‘Three drinks down. And you?’

‘Was made to consume tequila shots.’

‘Wow. Wait, the boys are teasing me for chatting with you.’

‘Ha ha, go have fun.’ I kept my phone aside.

Aditi didi wanted to raise a toast. Two waiters arrived and poured champagne for everyone.

‘For my only darling sweetest sister. Someone who only studied and worked hard. She did nothing naughty in life. Nothing bad ever.’

Yeah right, I thought but simply smiled as Aditi didi continued, ‘Oh yes, she’s the good girl. If I barely passed, she topped. If I became a housewife, she became a hi-fi banker. If I had the boobs, she had the brains.’

All the girls laughed. The muscular bouncers blushed. My phone buzzed. Must be Brijesh, I thought. He’s sweet. He’s trying to make a connection.

‘Hey, am at JFK airport. Figuring out last-minute tickets,’ Debu had messaged instead.

‘What?’ I typed back.

‘Fifteen hours to Mumbai. Then a quick connection to Goa.’

‘Debu, are you serious? Stop it, will you?’

Aditi didi caught me staring at my phone.

‘Look at my baby, chatting with her husband-to-be. At least leave him on your girls’ night out,’ she said. Everyone laughed. Aditi didi took a big gulp of the champagne. I gulped at what I saw next.

Debu had sent me a picture of the Air India counter at JFK. He followed it up with a smiley.

‘Take another shot,’ one of my cousins egged me.

Yeah, just shoot me instead.

‘Miss you,’ said another message.

‘Will you shut the fuck up and go home?’ I typed in response. Damn, I almost pressed send before I realized the last ‘miss you’ message had come from Brijesh.

I deleted what I had written and retyped, ‘Aww, sweet,’ adding a few smileys. I couldn’t think of anything more imaginative. With care I switched chats from Brijesh to Debu.

‘Please don’t bother me. Go home,’ I said.

‘Girls,’ my sister made an announcement, ‘what say we take away the bride’s phone for the evening?’

‘Huh? No, didi, no,’ I said in vain as Aditi didi snatched my phone from my hands and placed it in her handbag.

‘It’s your last night out as a bachelorette. You better do crazy things and not waste it on the phone,’ Aditi didi said.

I wanted to tell her I had enough craziness happening on the phone.

‘Okay,’ Aditi didi announced. ‘Let’s play “challenge the bride”. Everyone will give the bride a dare. And Radhika has to do it.’

I looked around. Our table was in one corner of the restaurant. In the middle, several people sat on bar stools. Half the customers were Indians who had come to Goa for the Christmas holidays. Others were mostly European and American tourists.

Jyoti gave me the first task.

‘See that bald white guy over there.’ She pointed at a forty-something man sitting at the bar. ‘Find out his name and the country he comes from.’

‘That’s too easy,’ didi said.

‘Get his name, country and slap, no wait, kiss his forehead,’ said Shruti.

Everyone laughed and cheered at the suggestion.

‘No way,’ I said.

‘Yes way. Here take this. Bottoms up.’ Saloni gave me a half-filled champagne glass. I gulped it in one go. My head felt light.

‘Go!’ Aditi didi clapped her hands.

I walked up to the bar.