The Secret wish List Page 12

  ‘Hmm, sure, let me confirm to you later. A meeting will be possible, but I think lunch may not be,’ I say.

  How can I explain to her that after marriage, I have never gone out with my women friends, leaving my husband and child at home. It would probably sound archaic to her. How can I explain to her that I still take Sandeep’s ‘permission’ to travel anywhere? Even to my own ears, it sounds like an eighteenth-century tradition. Yet that is how it has been for me. I wonder how marriage has changed me such a lot.

  As soon as Tanu hangs up, I get a call from Vibha.

  ‘So my lady, how did your secret date with the salsa man go? And why didn’t you call me yesterday? I waited and waited. Don’t tell me you got so carried away that you forgot all about me,’ she says.

  ‘Hey! Give me a chance to speak at least, before you go on like a bullet train!’ I exclaim.

  I tell her about my mother-in-law’s fall. I tell her how Sandeep left for office, leaving me alone with her in the hospital. I tell her how she overheard me speaking to Gaurav and how I opened up to her.

  ‘Oh my God, Diksha! You are really something!’ she exclaims.

  ‘Why?’ I ask, a bit puzzled about her reaction. Is she praising me? Does she find it odd? Or does she appreciate the fact?

  ‘Whoever heard of a daughter-in-law making friends with her mother-in-law!’ she says.

  ‘Come on, Vibha. How can you, of all the people, say that? Don’t your in-laws live with you and help you look after Monu? Haven’t they been supportive?’

  ‘Yeah, but it isn’t like I pour out my heart to my mom-in-law.’

  ‘I agree, it may not be conventional, Vibha, but honestly, yesterday for the first time, I saw her as Mrs Pandit, the woman and not just my mother-in-law. And I can’t tell you what a huge difference it has made to my perspective. She is really understanding, Vibha. In fact, she asked me to go ahead with my salsa. How many mothers-in law do you know who will actually say that?’ I ask

  ‘Yes, you are right of course. It is indeed a good thing you have bonded with her. So did you tell her about your wish list too?’

  ‘I knew that was coming,’ I smile. ‘No, for the record, I haven’t told her about the wish list. Happy?’ I ask.

  ‘I will be happy when all the items, except Number 6, are ticked off,’ she replies.

  The conversation with Tanu has reminded me, with startling intensity, of the person I used to be—a person with hopes, ambitions and a desire to live life to the brim. I was just like Tanu—bubbly, enthusiastic and positive.

  I think about Ankit. I think about that kiss. I have replayed everything that happened on that day at least a million times in my mind through all these years. I loved him with all the purity and innocence of a sixteen-year- old heart. I was certain at that time that he loved me too. I wonder how he looks now. I wonder what I will feel if I were to ever meet him again.

  It is ironic how the years change you and yet you remain the same. Even if you are married, become a parent, deep down you are still the person you were before you became all of that.

  Later, as I cook the afternoon meal, Ankit dances around in my head. He refuses to go away when I serve my mother- in-law her meal and make inane conversation with her. He is still with me when I greet Abhay, back from school, and remains there when I help him with homework. And, later that night, when my husband, after his usual round of television viewing, comes to bed and squeezes my breasts and has sex with me, he is still there.

  I lie awake a long time that night, the darkness of my bedroom punctuated by Sandeep’s rhythmic post-coital snoring.

  I realise with a jolt that Ankit had never really left. He has been in my head all along.

  And now that the possibility of reconnecting with him has been presented to me on a platter, it makes me intensely restless. It is as though someone has poured a can of gasoline to the already blazing fire and turmoil within my heart.

  Somewhere at the back of my mind, warning bells are clanging, but their sounds are very feeble, almost muffled.

  The voice of my heart is too darn loud.

  When you cannot get someone out of your head for eighteen years, it has to be true love.

  Sixteen

  IT IS ALMOST AS IF I CANNOT WAIT FOR TANU TO arrive and for me to meet her. A part of me knows that it is also because I am eager to know about Ankit. But there is still a whole week left and all I can do is go about my daily tasks and duties like everything is the same as before. Inside my head, it feels like clouds are brewing for a thunderstorm of mammoth proportions. After all, this is the guy because of whom my life took a sharp ninety-degree turn. This is the guy I failed to resist.

  Who knows what he has made of himself in these eighteen years. Perhaps he is balding, fat and potbellied? Perhaps he is married with a nagging wife and two children, or worse with a gorgeous, slim wife who looks like a model and has two wonderful children as well. Thoughts about Ankit are distracting me such a lot that I am unable to think of anything else. I just have to know.

  So I call up Tanu again. But she cuts my call and a moment later I get a text which says, ‘In a meeting. Will call back.’ There is nothing I can do except wait and continue with my usual chores, pretending all is well, when in reality it feels as though there are a million questions inside me threatening to explode.

  The only way I can distract myself is to focus on the salsa class which is this evening. That is when I remember that I have agreed to meet Gaurav after class today.

  My mother-in-law is much better now. She says that by the end of the week she would like to shift back to her own apartment. She has a set of friends who have been calling her every single day to check on her. One couple, Mrs and Mr Prabhu even visited, bringing flowers and fruits. How lucky she is to have friends like that. I think that if I fell ill or injured myself, I would have nobody perhaps other than Vibha and now Tanu, who would bother to check on me or find out how I was.

  At the bus stop that morning, with the children interacting with each other in the background, it seems as though Jyoti and Rachna seem to have made it their life’s mission to tease and hound me.

  ‘Today also you are glowing, Diksha! Do tell us the chakkar,’ says Rachna, the chakkar woman.

  ‘You guys just love teasing me!’ I say with a smile.‘Believe me, there is no chakkar. I have joined salsa and a have class this evening,’ I say.

  ‘Ooooh! Salsa! Where? At Dancing Shoes?’ asks Jyoti.

  ‘Yeah, how did you guess?’ I ask

  ‘That is the one closest, so it is only logical. Gaurav is an awesome teacher. My husband and I had done the basic course last summer. In fact, we have already signed up for the intermediate course which starts next month,’ she says.

  ‘Oh!’ I reply.

  I am surprised that all these days, ever since the academic year started, I have been meeting these two women at the bus stop and we have never talked about this before. Our conversations have mostly centred around movies and other inane stuff like school policies. Neither Rachna nor Jyoti read, so I cannot discuss my love for books or what I am currently reading, with them. I get my books through an online library which delivers and collects books from home. Neither Jyoti nor Rachna are tech savvy and hardly go on the Internet, except for emails and so we always have a limited repertory of things to talk about. Therefore, I am pleasantly surprised to discover Jyoti’s interest in salsa.

  Jyoti says that Dancing Shoes is really good as it organises stage performances for its students, as well as gets them invited to salsa parties regularly. That is news to me. I had no idea they did all that. I make a mental note to check with Gaurav after class today.

  My second salsa class goes off even better than the first. It is almost as if wearing those smart western clothes I bought on my last shopping spree, transforms me into a different person, much like Cinderella going to the ball. I feel happy and light-headed as I join my salsa-mates, Janie, Nitya, Gagan and others in the class. Lorraine is there along w
ith the other instructors, but Gaurav is nowhere to be seen.

  Gagan asks about him and Lorraine says that he will join us soon. My eyes keep looking for him even as I continue to do the steps that Lorraine and the other instructor demonstrate. This time, just like the last class, we have to dance with partners, using the simple steps that we have learnt. They get us to form a circle, with the women in the inner circle and the guys in the outer circle facing the women. The women and men have to face each other and mirror each other’s movement. When the beat stops, the guys have to walk to the next partner and perform the same step with her.

  ‘This way all the women in the room get to dance with all the guys and vice versa. That is the best way, else you will get too used to a single partner. The idea here is that you should be able to do the salsa with anyone,’ explains Lorraine.

  We start dancing and I can see that Gaurav’s words have had an effect on the guys. Almost all of them, including Gagan, have made a special effort with their appearance today. His palms are thankfully no longer sweaty. We are shown how the guys have to grip the lady’s hand and how the hold should not be too tight or too loose. We are also taught that the man should hold the woman under the shoulder blades gently without hurting her or feeling up her bra-strap. Lorraine says all of this without blushing, though I sense a slight awkwardness among the guys at her words, even as they try to act nonchalant. Lorraine sums up her talk by adding that we should not be shy and strained while dancing.

  ‘The salsa is an intimate dance, but remember, it is also a very elegant dance—a gentleman’s dance. Please treat your lady-partner with dignity. Do not pull her arm out of the socket when you twirl her. Be gentle. Make her feel at ease. Do not try and show off. Even if you do a few basic steps, it is fine. It is better than trying some stunning moves and leaving her feeling inadequate. There is a lot of non-verbal communication that happens in dance, so always have a smile on your face, no matter how nervous you are,’ says Lorraine.

  The guys exchange nervous glances, while the women grin at each other. I am thoroughly enjoying this. I love the candid manner in which Lorraine reels out the instructions and gives us a lesson in etiquette. I enjoy the atmosphere here—it is so liberating. It is like nothing I have experienced before and I absolutely revel in every moment of it.

  ‘Come on now, let’s start,’ says Lorraine. ‘You will soon get the groove of it, ‘she reassures. ‘One two three...’ and the music starts again. Lorraine keeps up the count and, in no time, we are dancing in full swing. Then the beat stops and we exchange partners. I keep a watch out for Gaurav from the corner of my eye and see him entering a while later. He waves out to Lorraine who gestures for him to join in.

  Gaurav does that and, in the very next round, he is my partner. It feels phenomenal to be dancing with someone who is obviously an expert. He is so smooth with his moves that he makes me feel on top of the world. He guides me with the practised ease of a brilliant dancer. We make a great pair and do not miss a single beat. I am surprised to discover just how valuable the expertise of your partner is in salsa. When the beat ends, we are supposed to stop and rotate partners again, but Gaurav doesn’t stop. He continues and I pick up his cue and we dance in perfect synchronicity. He makes me feel at ease as I follow his lead. His eyes do not leave mine for a second, and, as he dances, he smiles at me. I am completely mesmerised, as though in a trance. It is the first time in my life I am dancing like this with a good-looking man who, with his moves, makes me feel like a princess in a fairy tale. Who makes me believe that I am a superb dancer. When we finally stop, the whole class which has paused to watch us, breaks into spontaneous applause.

  ‘Well done, Diksha, you are a natural,’ says Lorraine and I beam. ‘And now, Gaurav, I think the other ladies deserve the same treatment too. Janie and Nitya, you can both take a turn with Gaurav and each of the guys can dance with me. You see how important it is that partners are in perfect sync?’ she says.

  I feel a stab of jealousy as Gaurav dances with Nitya and then with Janie.

  This is crazy. I tell myself. Get a grip. He is not your boyfriend. You are a married woman and he is just doing his job as an instructor.

  Yet, childish as it is, I am a little pacified to see that he does not achieve the same level of dancing with either Janie or Nitya that he did with me. I also feel smugly satisfied that it is me he has asked out for coffee and not them, despite knowing that I am a mother, though it makes me wonder why. But there is no time to dwell on it as Lorraine keeps us on our toes till the session ends. After class, I bid others a bye and Gaurav and I walk towards the café where we met the last time.

  ‘Sorry I was late for class today. I give private lessons too, you know, and the couple I was teaching wanted to practise a bit more. Their wedding is in four days and they wanted their moves to be perfect,’ he says.

  ‘That is fine,’ I smile. I am ridiculously happy as I walk beside him. I have never gone out anywhere on my own, except on family outings with Sandeep and Abhay. This little ‘thing’ with Gaurav is making me feel good.

  ‘You are great at salsa, Diksha. A natural. Very few are gifted like that,’ he says.

  I remind him it is only because he guided me so well and that is different when I dance with the other guys.

  ‘They are only learning. They are still not used to the concept of “guiding” and “leading” the lady. Give them a few more sessions and you will see the difference,’ he says confidently.

  We reach the café and Gaurav pulls out a chair for me and asks me what I will have. I settle for a iced mint tea and he says will have a burger as he did not get time to eat earlier. Would I like to eat something? he enquires politely.

  When the formalities of ordering are done and the waiter vanishes, I catch Gaurav looking at me and smiling.

  ‘What?’ I ask.

  ‘You aren’t used to this, are you?’ he continues smiling and looking into my eyes. Gazing actually.

  His manner is making me slightly uncomfortable, but I am hugely flattered too.

  ‘Used to what? Ordering stuff at cafés?’ I tease him, even though I know he is referring to going out on dates.

  ‘Ha ha, yeah. That is exactly what I meant,’ he retorts laughing. I join in.

  With that, the ice is completely broken and I instantly feel at ease.

  ‘So why did you ask me out? Me, of all the people. There must be so many women in your classes, right?’ I ask.

  ‘Yeah, but the married ones always come with their husbands. You are the first, and a mother at that, to have come without her partner.’

  ‘So of all the things, it is my motherhood that you found date-worthy?’ I laugh

  ‘Of course! Do you have any idea how hot that makes you?’ he says with a straight face, his voice dipping low.

  I really don’t know whether he is joking, but I can tell he is definitely flirting. I am totally new to these dating games which single women probably play and are experts at.

  I do not know what to say and, before I can respond, my phone rings. It is Tanu. Instantly my mind races to Ankit. Even with the charming Gaurav in front of me, I am obsessed with knowing about Ankit.

  ‘Excuse me, I have to take this call,’ I say.

  I rise to take my call at a discreet distance, but Gaurav gestures me to sit and leaves the table.

  ‘Hey babes, I am with someone, but I just had to take your call. Tell me about Ankit! I am dying to know,’ I say in a low voice.

  ‘Ha, ha, ha! So that could not wait! You still have the hots for him, don’t you?’ she teases.

  ‘Shut up, Tanu! What nonsense you talk.’

  ‘Of course, it is deeper than merely ‘having the hots’. Look how impatient you are,’ she continues teasing.

  I realise that I will not easily be able to inveigle any information about Ankit out of her in a short phone call. Besides, I can see Gaurav hanging about waiting for me to finish the call.

  ‘Okay. Have it your way. I have to go
now as I am outside with someone. Mail me, okay?’ I say.

  ‘Done. Will mail you soon,’ she says and we hang up. I gesture for Gaurav to join me.

  ‘Hey, there was no need for you to leave the table, but it was rather sweet of you,’ I say.

  He smiles.

  He asks me what attracted me to salsa.

  I tell him that it is a long story.

  ‘I have all the time in the world. Do tell, I want to know,’ he says.

  I do not know if it is the sincerity in his eyes that convinces me or whether it is the high I am feeling after a superb salsa session, or perhaps it is the whole intimacy of the café, but I am deeply flattered by his obvious interest in me.

  ‘Are you sure you really want to know? Or are you just making conversation?’ I ask.

  ‘Of course, I do. Do you think I am asking just for the heck of it? Or do you not trust me enough to share?’ he looks hurt.

  ‘No, it’s not like that at all,’ I reply.

  ‘Then tell,’ he says.

  So I tell him about Vibha. I tell him about Mohan’s sudden death. I tell him about how I got married at nineteen. I leave out the part about how insensitive Sandeep is or how discontented I feel in the marriage.

  I talk about the jolt Mohan’s passing gave us all and how Vibha goaded me into making a wish list. And that learning salsa was one of the things on the list.

  Gaurav is all ears and listens with rapt attention, without interrupting even once. He is genuinely interested in everything I am saying.

  And finally when I am done, he is silent for a few seconds.

  Then he says, ‘Oh my God. That is really amazing, Diksha. Most of us just talk about what we want to do. And here you are, you have actually made a list and, even more impressive, are actually carrying it out. How wonderful is that?!’

  I shrug.

  ‘You are amazing. And, trust me, I don’t say this to everyone I meet, and I meet a lot of women. You are really something else, Diksha,’ he says.

  He asks me if I will share my wish list with him. I tell him that I will consider it. All of a sudden, I feel a bit shy at having told him so much about my life.