A Sojourn
As he reached his modest quarters from The
Club, Amit’s mind was in a complete state of mess. The last two days had been
like a whirlwind in which he was caught. He very badly needed
relaxation—somewhere he could think quietly. He kept remembering, what
Vakilkaka had said, that the law stops
at the bedroom door. There was also Nita’s promise made during their first
meeting. Yet that naughty smile on her
face? What would it mean?
At that moment he remembered 'Wai- his home place'. He must
go and spend some time with his mother and with "Suhas", one of his childhood
friends, he thought.
He quickly packed a few clothes, told his
neighbors that he was going to 'Wai'. He took a bus to Mumbai Central station
and found a Mumbai–Wai–Mahabaleshwar semi-luxury bus standing there. He
occupied an empty seat, bought a ticket, and was soon speeding towards Pune.
Then he suddenly remembered Nita. If he
just disappeared like this, she certainly would go mad. She might even come to
Wai and ruin everything.
He thought for a moment and then sent her a
message. Within seconds there were ten messages from Nita. Instead of replying,
he just called her on her personal number. He spent almost the next hour
explaining to her that something important has come up and he has to go. He
would be back early morning, the day after tomorrow.
Nita was almost on the point of crying at
the idea of spending the next day alone. He cajoled and comforted her. Finally,
she accepted his absence.
It was almost 11 pm when he reached Wai.
Anticipating this delay, he had telephoned Sudha, a girl who stayed next door,
to convey a message to his mother. His mother would always get panicky whenever
any sudden, unanticipated visits happened.
The neighborhood in 'Wai' was quiet. But as
expected, his mother was waiting.
They had a quiet dinner. As usual, Amit’s
mother had cooked just one or two of his favorites. He thoroughly enjoyed
them, and later, after some small talk, he went to sleep.
When he woke up, the sun was already up.
Mother also was up and had finished most
of her morning rituals. As he was sipping his tea, he heard a girl’s voice.
Someone was calling, “Kaku! Kaku!”
“Who is that?” Amit’s mother enquired, and
then said, “Must be Sudha, the neighbor’s daughter.”
“Come in, you don’t need permission,”
Amit’s mother replied.
Sudha came in. Amit was surprised to see
how much she had changed. Gone was the girlish look. Standing in front of him
was a healthy, shapely, saree-clad woman.
“I brought some “Thalipeeth” (a specialty
Maharashtra dish ) for Amitdada,” she said.
“Did you prepare it yourself?”
In reply she giggled and laughed, said she
must be going. She made a sharp about-turn and disappeared, her saree drapes
and pallu making delicious circles in the air.
Amit kept looking at her, fascinated.
Amit’s mother had been suggesting to Amit that he should marry her—she being a
well-educated, nice girl who cooks well. Amit had to tell her that firstly, she
was much younger than him, and though he likes her, he does not fancy her as
his wife. But it is so difficult to convince one’s mother, he thought.
Amit took a refreshing cold-water bath,
pulling out fresh water from the well in the backyard, in the open. He
remembered Nita and wondered how shocked she would be to see him bathing like
this, and laughed to himself.
As he finished breakfast, Suhas—his best
friend—called. They told his mother and went out. First to Wai’s famous 'MahaGanesha' temple, and then they roamed around the town as they used to in the past.
Suhas was still looking for a job. He
wanted to come to Mumbai, but was getting an offer in Pune. Amit told him to
grab the Pune job first, move there, and search later.
In the afternoon, Sudha’s father made a
call. He only enquired about Amit, yet his intent was so obvious that if there
had been the slightest encouragement from Amit’s mother, he would have talked
about Sudha’s proposal for him.
In the evening, Suhas came again and they
went to the river. As the sun was setting, they sat cross-legged on the ghats
near the river and enjoyed the beautiful weather. They returned only when it
was dark.
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On the way back, Amit made a reservation
for the early morning 5 o’clock bus to Mumbai. It was so satisfying for him to
see that all was well in Wai. He felt like telling his mother to wait for six
months—the house would be ours again. He didn’t say anything though.
The clock read 11 a.m. when his bus rolled
into Mumbai Central. Nita will be in office, Amit thought. He typed out a single
line — “Reached Mumbai” — and pushed through the crowd for the bus home. He
didn’t check his phone again until he’d unlocked his flat. Three emojis blinked
back at him: 👍 📞 🍛
He laughed out loud. Classic Nita. No time
to type, but the message was clear — got it, I’ll call, when I eat.
If he was moving to a service apartment,
he’d have to travel light. There was no
choice really, as he had no big suitcases, so it would take two or three trips
he thought to ferry everything. He stuffed a shoulder bag with essentials, then
called his bai. “Tai, stop the dinner tiffin from today. I’m going out of
station for a few days.” Done.
Her call came at two pm, breathless between
meetings.
“I’m slammed,” she said. “Client calls all
day. I’ll pick you up at seven from the club gate, okay? I’ve booked the
apartment.”
“Okay,” he said. That was Nita — never a
wasted word in office hours.
He was there at 6:55. At 7:10, still no
Polo. At 7:15, it finally swung in — fifteen minutes late. For Nita, that was
practically a scandal.
She was still in her navy-blue office dress,
hair pinned up. “Sorry, sorry,” she said
as he slid in. “What a circus. I came here in the office Innova, then sent the
driver home to fetch the Polo to the club. He’s just dropped the Innova back at
the company lot.”
She glanced at the single bag on his lap.
“That’s it? Is that all you’re bringing?”
“I’ll come back for the rest myself,” Amit
said.
She nodded, eyes on the traffic. “Okay.”
The service apartment lobby was all glass
and cold AC. Nita took the key card from the counter, walked him through the
kitchenette, the Wi-Fi code, the laundry chute — efficient as ever.
Upstairs, she closed the door softly. They
didn’t sit on the bed or the chairs. They sat on sofa with Amit sitting in
corner nearer to bed and Nita very close to him almost knee to knee.
Then, without warning, she grabbed his
forearm.
She didn’t sob loudly. Her shoulders just
caved, and she pressed her forehead into his shoulder.
“Amit,” she whispered, “these two days…
I’ve been so low. I couldn’t see you, couldn’t even hear your voice on the
phone. Don’t do that to me again. Please don’t just disappear.”
He didn’t have an answer. He just lifted
his hand and patted her head, the way you would a child who’d had a nightmare.
He let her breathe.
Ten minutes, maybe fifteen, passed with
only the hum of the AC.
Finally she sat up, wiped her eyes with the
back of her hand, and took a deep breath. “Okay,” she said, her voice steadier
now. “Let me talk.”
Nita
wiped her eyes, sat up straighter, and finally looked at him.
“Amit,
tomorrow is the day we meet Aaji and Aajoba. Everything depends on this visit.
If you can make them happy, we’re done.”
She
paused, took a deep breath.
“Aaji
just wants me to be happy. She’d do anything for me.”
She
leaned forward.
“The
most important thing — do not lie to Aaji. You don’t have to tell her
everything, but whatever you say must be true. Tell her about your house in
Wai, about your mother, your father, your happy life as a boy. But nothing
about the debt. If she hears that, she’ll think you’re marrying me for money.”
“Aajoba
is different,” she went on. He also has a soft corner for things- done traditionally.
“The one thing he hates is cheating. Falsehood. That’s why —”.
She
stopped mid-sentence.
Amit
pretended he hadn’t noticed the slip. He just nodded.
“They
both come from very ordinary middle-class families,” Nita continued, recovering
quickly. “And they still cherish those values. If you have old photos, take
them. Show them.”
She was
back in planning mode now.
“I’ll
leave office early tomorrow. I’ll pick you up here around five. We have to
finish by six-thirty — they eat at seven and they’re in bed by eight-thirty
sharp.”
She
smiled, a little softer. “We’ll have our private time later.”
Then
her voice dropped. “And the day after — Vakilkaka will pick me up from office
at eleven. Everyone will think it’s for legal advice. I’ve already told Legal,
I’ll give them a cover story later.”
“We’ll
pick you up from here and go straight to the marriage registrar to give notice.
After that, Vakilkaka will drop me back to office, and you can come back here
on your own. Will that be okay?”
“Of
course,” Amit said. “Don’t worry.”
Her
shoulders dropped. The MD was gone; the hungry girl was back.
“I’m
starving,” Nita said. “Let’s eat. What do you want?”
She
didn’t wait for his answer. “Pizza and Coke? Or do you want something else?”
They
debated for a minute like an old couple.
In the
end they settled — a margherita for Amit, mushroom and chicken for her.
The pizza arrived in about forty minutes.
They opened the boxes together and the smell of fresh-baked crust filled the
small room, making them both hungrier.
The pizzas were already sliced. Amit picked
up a slice of his margherita and took a bite. Nita did the same with her
mushroom-chicken.
Then she stopped. She was looking at his
slice.
“Hey,” she said, pointing. “That looks
better. Let me try yours.”
Amit laughed. “Take a fresh slice, na.”
“Why?” she said.
“I’ve already bitten into this one. It’s…
you know, jhoota. Ushta.”
“So what?” Nita said, and before he could
answer, she leaned over and took the exact bite-marked piece right out of his
hand. “I want to eat this portion only.”
She didn’t stop there. She finished his
entire margherita, bite by bite, and pushed her untouched mushroom-chicken
pizza toward him.
By now Amit had learned about this wild
streak in her. He didn’t argue. He just started on the mushroom-chicken and
quietly decided on a new strategy for next time — order what he wanted for her,
and what she wanted for himself — and he chuckled to himself.
Nita frowned. “Why are you laughing, Amit?”
“For a moment,” he said, “I thought I was
talking to a three-year-old girl.”
Nita had actually loved the whole episode,
but she didn’t show it. She just sat quietly for a few minutes, playing
serious.
“Are you angry, Boss?” Amit asked. She
didn’t answer.
He slid the last of the Coke from his glass
toward her.
Nita’s face lit up. She grabbed his arm and
squeezed it hard, like she’d been waiting for exactly that.
“You’re so considerate,” she said softly.
“That’s why —” And again, she left the sentence halfway.
“That
is why —” what?” Amit said, teasing her.
“Nothing,”
Nita shot back. “I really want to beat you with a stick.”
Amit
couldn’t control his laughter. It was so infectious that Nita started giggling
too, and then suddenly gave him that naughty look of hers.
By now
Amit had learned to just ride it out. He let it pass and steered her back.
“Tell
me something more about your Aaji,” he asked.
Nita’s
face changed instantly. The mischief vanished.
She
became very emotional.
“Aaji is everything for me,” Nita said
quietly. “She’s raised me ever since I was three.”
Amit wanted to ask why, but he swallowed
the word. He just gave her a sympathetic nod. “Okay.”
“She’s a very orthodox lady — but with a
modern outlook. And she raised me like that,” Nita went on. “She’s imbibed all
the Maharashtrian values in me. Don’t be fooled by my external looks. That’s
just my convent education and living in Mumbai.” She touched her chest. “In my
heart, I’m different.”
Amit had realized that much in the last few
days anyway.
Nita glanced at her watch and stood up
abruptly. “I must go. It’s getting late.”
Amit nodded.
As she headed for the door, he slipped into
his chappals.
“Where are you going now?” Nita asked, her
tone suddenly authoritative.
“With you. Downstairs,” Amit said.
“Why?”
“Just to see you off.”
They went down together. Somewhere inside,
she felt quietly happy about it.
At the car, as Nita was getting into the
driver’s seat, Amit opened the other door and slipped in beside her.
“I’m going home,” Nita told him, surprised.
“Where do you want to go?”
“Nowhere. Just drop me at the entrance of
your lane.”
Nita was taken aback. She hadn’t expected
this at all. She didn’t say anything, just started the car and drove off.
As they entered her lane, Amit said, “Stop
here.”
He got down, leaned in at the window. “Good
night. Send me a thumbs-up when you’re inside the house.”
“How will you go home?” Nita asked.
Amit just smiled.
Nita’s house was, in fact, quite close to
the service apartment. He just started walking. There were still quite a few
people on the road. It’s true, he thought, Mumbai never sleeps.
Within a minute, her thumbs-up appeared on
his screen. He kept walking.
For Nita, this was a totally new experience
— someone caring for her like this. There had been no one except Aaji and
Aajoba, who had done that before. Tears came to her eyes as she unlocked her
front door. She just sighed.