One Indian Girl(94)

‘But,’ Debu said.

‘I am saying fuck off in the nicest way possible. Please do appreciate that. And do fuck off,’ I said.

Debu and Neel looked at each other. They looked at me once more and stood up to leave. In silence they walked out of the restaurant. Together. Out of my life.

Brijesh entered the coffee shop just as they left. He came up to me. He wore grey workout clothes. He noticed the used crockery and cutlery on the table.

‘Good morning, wife-to-be,’ he said. ‘These people? They came to see you?’

‘Good morning, Brijesh, come. We need to talk,’ I said. He saw my serious expression and sat opposite me looking a little baffled.

‘Yeah sure,’ he said. ‘By the way, white suits you.’

‘Thanks.’

Brijesh ordered a plain dosa and coffee.

‘Feeling better from last night?’ Brijesh said after the waiter left.

‘Sort of.’

‘We always feel more anxious at night,’ Brijesh said. ‘Don’t worry. Remember, whatever happens in life, eventually it is all going to be okay.’

‘You really believe that?’ I said.

‘Yes.’

‘Good. So Brijesh, I thought about it all night. This just doesn’t seem right. I can’t get married to you today.’

‘What?’ he said. ‘Are you serious? Some nervousness is understandable but. . .’

‘I am going to inform my parents now. After that I will talk to your parents.’

‘What?’

‘Unless you can talk to them first. I prefer that. Put the blame on me.’

‘Radhika!’

I ignored him and continued, ‘I will settle all bills. Nothing needs to be paid from your family’s side. I am so sorry for this and. . .’

Brijesh interrupted me.

‘Who the hell do you think you are?’ Brijesh said in an out-of-character high pitch.

I looked at him, surprised.

‘I am sorry. I can understand you are upset,’ I said after a pause.

‘You understand? That’s it? My entire extended family is here. They have celebrated with us for a week. The morning of the wedding what do I tell them? The bride says no? She has cold feet?’

‘It’s all my fault. I accept that.’

‘Everyone is here, Radhika. Everyone.’

‘I know.’

The waiter arrived with Brijesh’s dosa and coffee. Brijesh left them untouched.

‘Can I ask why?’ Brijesh said, his voice under control again.

Tears rolled down my cheeks in response.

‘Why, Radhika?’

‘Those guys who you saw leave. They are my past. My exes.’

He looked back at the restaurant exit.

‘It’s okay. They are gone,’ I said.

‘You invited them?’

I shook my head. In brief, I told him what had happened to me all of last week in Goa. He listened with full interest, and had a shocked expression at the end of it.

‘That is some story,’ he said as what I had told him sank in.

‘Yeah, that’s my week.’

‘What did you decide finally?’

‘I told them to leave. Get out. Out of Goa and my life, forever.’

‘Good. Then what’s the issue? Your past is gone.’

‘But I am not in the present either. I am nowhere, really. I need to find myself.’

‘Find yourself?’ he said, a bit of sarcasm in his voice. ‘You have told me you had two relationships. As long as they are in the past, I don’t care.’

‘No, Brijesh. This wedding stands cancelled. I am sorry,’ I said and stood up.

He looked at me. He could see from my expression that I offered no scope for negotiation. He remained silent. I turned around and left the coffee shop.





41


My room in Goa resembled a funeral scene. Despite the five-star luxury and the gold around my aunts’ necks, people had a sombre expression. I had communicated my decision. My mother had displayed her hysteria. Dad sat stone-faced, unable, as usual, to react to any conflict situation. My aunts had gathered around my mother, offering fake sympathy and condolences. I could sense their glee. I was providing family gossip for months.

Kamla bua had still not given up.

‘Brijesh said anything to you? Be honest,’ Kamla bua said.

‘I told you several times, he has nothing to do with it. He is quite sweet.’

‘So what is the problem, you mad girl?’ my mother screeched at the top of her voice.

She came and stood in front of me.

Slap! Before she could deliver another slap Kamla bua held her down. I didn’t react.

‘No, Aparna, no. Keep control. Sai Baba will make it all okay,’ Kamla bua said to my mother.

‘What will be okay? We are ruined. Look at her, still glaring at me.’

‘There’s no need to hit me, mom,’ I said, my face red as I fought back tears.

‘So what should I do to cure you of your madness? Look at Aditi. In third year of college she was engaged. Married after a simple graduation.’

‘I am not Aditi.’

‘This is what happens when you educate girls too much,’ Kamla bua said in a low, consoling voice.