The Secret wish List Page 17

  I wait and watch till the cab disappears round the bend. Then I come inside the house. I make sure that I double bolt the door. I turn up the music really loud. The song ‘Are We Human’ by Killers, streams across the room.

  ‘Close your eyes, hear your heart, Cut the cord.’ The words seem to be speaking to me.

  I dance and dance and dance. I dance like I have never danced before. It feels wonderful, exhilarating—to be doing something that gives me so much joy.

  Sandeep’s departure has made me feel as though a huge burden has been lifted off my chest. I am actually celebrating his leaving. I am happy to see him go.

  And, finally, when I have exhausted myself dancing, I take a quick shower and finish the day’s cooking.

  I want to tell Vibha all that has happened, but I am not ready to speak to her yet. So I sit at the computer and draft a long mail to her, updating her with all that has been happening so far, leaving out the part about my involvement with Ankit or even meeting him.

  Then I call up Gaurav and tell him I want to meet him.

  ‘Now?’ he asks

  ‘Yes, now, unless you have a class.’

  ‘I was in a class when you called.’

  ‘Oh, I am sorry. You shouldn’t have picked up my call then.’

  ‘How could I not? I finish in about twenty minutes. Where do you want to meet?’

  ‘At Ajanta, near Brunton Road, in about thirty minutes?

  ‘Sure. I will be there.’

  ‘And Gaurav—I am calling one of my close friends too. There is something I want to talk to you guys about. I hope you don’t mind.’

  ‘Of course not, Diksha. A friend of yours is a friend of mine,’ he says.

  Then I call up Tanu.

  ‘So all set, babes? Shall I come and pick you up? You have made arrangements for Abhay to get dropped off at your MIL’s place right?’ Tanu asks, as soon as she answers the phone.

  ‘Yeah, I have. Listen, Tanu, something happened last evening. I am really shaken. I need to talk to you. In fact I have called another friend too. I am meeting him at Ajanta, in about thirty minutes. Can you come?’ I ask.

  ‘Sure, babes. I will be there. Are you okay?’ she asks

  ‘Yeah, sort of. I guess. But I am terribly shaken,’ I reply.

  When I reach Ajanta, I find Tanu already waiting. I hug her and I cannot stop tears from rising to my eyes, clouding my vision.

  The waiters give us curious stares, but I am past caring. I explain to her all that happened last evening.

  Tanu is aghast. She is shocked and angry.

  ‘You must leave him, Diksha. What the hell are you doing sticking around in that marriage?’ she asks.

  ‘Look, it isn’t so easy for me,’ I reply.

  Before she can answer, I see Gaurav walking towards us.

  I can tell that, like most men, he is very impressed by Tanu. But then he conceals it quickly and recovers. I watch Tanu too and I know she likes his manner, his poise, his good looks and his stylish clothes.

  ‘Hey Gaurav, meet Tanu, my best pal. Tanu has just moved to Bangalore and heads the Bangalore division of Barclays. And Tanu, this is Gaurav, my salsa instructor,’ I say as they both shake hands and say their hellos.

  ‘Hey, I thought I was your good friend more than your salsa instructor! And you never told me you had such a great-looking friend,’ smiles Gaurav.

  ‘She did not tell me about you either,’ smiles Tanu and I know they already like each other.

  ‘Yeah, yeah, now you have both met, so you can’t complain,’ I say, secretly pleased that he asserted he was a good friend. Somehow it matters to me, these small things.

  We all order mini-idlis and filter coffee which is the speciality of this restaurant.

  My phone rings and it is Vibha. I cut her call and text her, telling her that I am out and will call her back later.

  As the waiter scuttles off to get us our order, Gaurav looks at me and raises his eyebrows, as though to ask whether Tanu knows what happened and what it was that I wanted to talk about.

  ‘I told Tanu about the incident at the salsa class and she was just telling me that I should leave him and, hey, I am really, really sorry that he hit you,’ I say, laying out the topic in the open.

  ‘Well, you don’t have to apologise for him. I was really shocked. This has never happened to me in class before and I was taken totally by surprise. And, ouch, it still hurts. From now on, I must make sure that the spouses sign a no-objections clause and a consent form before I let married people join a class,’ he says half-joking, rubbing his jaws and making an exaggerated comic face to show extreme pain.

  Tanu laughs.

  I am unable to.

  ‘Hey, Diksha, relax, It is really not your fault that you are married to an asshole who is stuck in the dark ages, pardon my language,’ says Gaurav.

  I tell them that I really want their advice. I explain that Sandeep is in Korea and will be there for the next few weeks. I truly do not want to stay in this marriage anymore.

  But the problem is I have no financial means to fall back on. I have never worked and have a nine-year-old son whom I dote on, to take care of. I am actually filling in the void for a father as well in his life as Sandeep is never there for him. I tell them how much it meant to Abhay to have his father at his science fair, but Sandeep couldn’t care less. I explain how difficult it is to walk away from a marriage when a child is involved.

  ‘Child or no child, ending it and going through a long-winded divorce is always messy, Diksha. Trust me, I speak from experience,’ says Gaurav.

  I reach out and squeeze his hand. I can feel the pain behind those words.

  ‘I agree. Not the divorce bit, but ending relationships,’ says Tanu.

  Our steaming-hot mini-idlis arrive and we eat in silence.

  ‘Hey guys, you both are truly the only real friends I have and I am so glad you are with me in this,’ I say.

  ‘Anytime. We are with you, Diksha. We will sort this out. There are no easy solutions, but that does not mean there are no solutions at all,’ says Gaurav.

  ‘Yes, I agree. You have time for now, Diksha. At least till he returns. We will figure out something,’ says Tanu.

  And sitting in that café with Gaurav and Tanu, I am really glad I have these two people in my life. I feel grateful to have someone I can speak openly to, without fear of judgement. Someone who understands the situation fully. Someone supportive and someone who genuinely cares for me. I feel good about my friendship with Gaurav and Tanu, who have unexpectedly come into my life and are now there when I need them most.

  But I still hide my involvement with Ankit from them.

  Somehow, even though I have shared so much, I am not ready to share that yet.

  My phone beeps and I smile when I see that it is a message from him. I quickly put it away, like saving a treasure for later, to be savoured in secrecy when I am by myself.

  No matter what has happened in my life, even the mere thought of him is enough to make me smile.

  ‘So what are you going to do now? Will you be coming for dance class or no? Personally, I think you have great potential and you should continue,’ says Gaurav.

  ‘I want to, Gaurav. But I do not feel like facing the others now. How can I after Sandeep behaved the way he did?’

  ‘Hey listen. Let us get one thing very clear, you are not responsible for his behaviour, okay?’

  ‘I agree,’ says Tanu. ‘You should continue your class, Diksha. It would truly be a pity if you stopped.’

  ‘And, you know what? She is really one of the best students I have had. She should, in fact, do the intermediate and advanced levels too. Salsa comes naturally to her. Do convince your friend,’ he tells Tanu.

  Tanu replies that she will do her best.

  Gaurav hugs me and tells me that I can call him anytime. He tells me to take care and assures me not to worry and that everything will be all right. We bid a bye to Gaurav, who has another class soon.
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br />   And then we go house-hunting.

  Tanu is very clear about what she wants. It has to be something modern, swanky and upmarket. She wants round-the-clock security and amenities such as a good gym (a must, she insists as she works out every single day) and a swimming pool.

  We are not happy with most of the properties that the agent shows us. Some have interiors that are too dark, some are too far away from her place of work, some are very poorly constructed and some just have terrible floor plans. We find one which seems okay, except the road that leads to it is terribly narrow.

  I tell her that there is a new construction, just a few metres away from my home, that she could check out. She is keen to do so.

  ‘Your home is really close to my office. So I am already inclined towards this place. Let’s go and see it,’ she says.

  We finally reach my lane and have a look at it. It is like a dream home.

  The project has eighteen exclusive penthouses, each with its own private terrace garden. Added to that, it is a space full of extraordinary amenities like a bowling alley, a putting green, a swimming pool. There is a round-the-clock power back-up. The whole area has wi-fi and, apart from all this, there is also an amphitheatre. The entrance to each home is through an electronic key and finger-print scanning. There is wooden flooring in the master bedroom and beautifully landscaped gardens surround the area. The balconies all have transparent fibre-glass. The whole effect is very urban, posh, classy, in short exactly what Tanu wants.

  ‘Wow, Tanu, this is awesome!’ I exclaim.

  ‘Yeah, isn’t it just?’ She is as delighted as me.

  ‘Why didn’t you mention this one before? We could have saved the whole morning.’

  ‘Aaah, then you wouldn’t have appreciated it so much. It is only when we go through bad experiences that we recognise the good ones,’ I say.

  ‘So right about that. But don’t tell me we went all over town even though you knew this one existed, just for the experience?’

  ‘No, Tanu. I knew this was there but I never expected it to be so good. I had only seen it from outside. I’ve never been inside this complex.’

  Tanu goes to the site office. Many of the homes are unoccupied as the project is just getting completed. There are plenty of options available for rent as many of the owners live abroad and have bought apartments here purely as investments or to move in at a later date.

  Tanu finalises a beautiful three-bedroom penthouse which overlooks the pool. Since it is going to be leased by her company, she passes on all the details to the property manager who manages all this stuff. I am very impressed.

  ‘One of the perks of being in this organisation, babes. We don’t have to worry about any of this. In fact, at very senior levels, they have these personal concierge services, where everything they want is taken care of. Can you believe one of the senior executives wanted some particular drink flown in from Australia and they arranged for it?’ she says.

  ‘Wow, what luxury,’ I exclaim.

  ‘I agree, but then they slog off their butts too. These are small ways in which they can retain people.’

  I think about how different Tanu’s world is from mine. I am happy about her success and how far she has come in life. But it once again painfully reminds me that the only thing I have really to show for my life, in these past years, is a well-raised child and perhaps a well-kept home. I am not even proud of my husband anymore.

  Tanu drops me off and tells me I will have to accompany her over the weekend to go furniture shopping. She intends to move in that weekend itself.

  ‘And the best part about this property is that it is just a stone’s throw away from your home. I feel so good, we are now so close to each other. Bring Abhay over anytime. He would love to use the pool and bowling alley,’ she says.

  I too am very happy to have her live so close by.

  Ankit calls almost as soon as I enter the house.

  ‘And, meine liebe, how are we this morning?’ he asks.

  ‘Not so good, really,’ I answer him honestly.

  ‘What happened?’ I ask.

  ‘Will fill you in, face to face, when you come here. When are you coming?’

  ‘Tomorrow. You know what? I am planning to start a business hotel there. I have a meeting with some people tomorrow. It will give me a legitimate reason to move base to Bangalore. I want to be closer to you.’

  I am stunned that he is actually contemplating moving base to Bangalore. I ask him about his current living arrangements and about his parents. I learn that they are divorced now. His mother lives in Mumbai and his father is still in Chennai.

  Ankit travels the world over and has no fixed place that he can call home. The business group that he has set up has service apartments, resorts and hotels in major cities in India, as well as a few locations abroad and, at all these places, he has an exclusive presidential suite just for himself, which is where he stays when he travels.

  ‘It is high time we had a presidential suite to ourselves in Bangalore too. I am kind of bored with Leela,’ he quips.

  I marvel at how easily Ankit deals with millions of rupees worth of business, as though it is child’s play. To me, it all seems extraordinary and amazing. For him, it is just business as usual. I have only read about such go-getting business tycoons in newspapers like The Economic Times and business magazines. I have never personally encountered anybody from that circle. And here is one, madly in love with me, an ordinary housewife.

  When I mention this to Ankit, he says, ‘You may call yourself ordinary, Diksha. But you fail to see your own qualities.’

  ‘And what qualities are those?’ I persist, hungry for his praise.

  ‘Beauty, intelligence, smartness, but, most importantly, empathy and a kind heart,’ he says.

  I know he genuinely means all of it and I glow in the warmth of his words.

  ‘For how long are you here?’ I ask.

  ‘Three days, maybe four. Depends on how the discussions go. I am looking at properties too,’ he says.

  ‘And in between all this, will you still have time for me?’

  ‘You forget that you are the reason I am doing this whole deal. I am doing it to have more time with you. That’s how much you mean to me, Diksha.’

  ‘We could meet at my place this time, Ankit. I want you to see my house and also meet Abhay.’

  ‘And what about your husband? How will you explain to him?’

  ‘He is out of town. He won’t be back for a week or maybe even a fortnight. There is a lot I have to tell you.’

  ‘Hmmm, okay. In that case, let me finish my morning meetings. I’ll be there by noon. Is that fine?’

  ‘Perfect. I can hardly wait.’

  ‘Me too, Diksha. You know, any moment that I am not working, I am thinking of you. You are a song playing inside my head continuously in auto-loop.’

  ‘I think about you all the time, Ankit, all the time. I myself wonder how it is even possible that the auto-loop is forever on, 24 X 7.’

  I feel that I have to ‘prepare my home’ for his visit. I want it to look really nice. I instruct the house-help to give all the bathrooms an extra scrubbing as I am having guests over. I tell her that everything should be spotless. I shift a few plants from the garden to the living room. It gives the room a cozy and welcoming look.

  I tell Abhay that an old schoolmate, called Ankit, is coming home for dinner and that he is a successful businessman who has a large chain of hotels and resorts.

  ‘Oh, does Tanu know him?’ he asks. Tanu has specified that Abhay call her by name and not ‘Tanu Aunty’ or ‘Aunty Tanu’ as is the norm.

  ‘“Tanu Aunty” makes me feels so old. I am not an aunty yet, am I?’ she had smiled.

  She and Abhay had got along really well. She had showed him a few tricks with his favourite video game, ‘Super Mario Bros’, when she had dropped in one evening and he had been thoroughly impressed with her ever since.

  ‘Ma! Tanu is so cool. She knows all the
video games. And she is your age. How come you do not know anything?’ he had asked.

  That is because I was busy raising you, feeding you, taking you to school, teaching you the alphabets, teaching you to ride a bike, and there was no time for video games in my life. She hasn’t had a child yet.

  ‘What to do? Your mummy is a buddhuram.’

  ‘No, that isn’t true. My mummy is very smart too, in a different way and I love her very much. She’s the BEST,’ he had said and given me an enormous hug. I had smiled broadly and hugged him back.

  And this is how Ankit and I meet at my home. He texts me as soon as he lands in Bangalore.

  ‘Landed. Meeting them in the morning. See you at twelve thirty?’

  ‘Can’t wait. Come soon!’ I text back

  ‘Do you want me to cancel the meetings?’

  ‘No way! You meet and finish your work. Work comes first, romance later.’

  ‘You’re a darling. Loads of love. Mmmmuah. See you soon.’

  It is funny how a few words typed in an electronic medium have the power to affect emotions this much. I truly feel on top of the world after I read his texts. It is like I am flying, like I am invincible. Love is a drug that gives a natural high. No wonder it has been an eternal subject of thousands of poets, artists, writers. I wonder if everyone in love feels the same way—that theirs is an exclusive emotion which nobody else can understand.

  I go about fluffing up the cushions in the living room as the radio plays on. All the mushy love songs on radio have taken on new depth now. I smile at my own silliness as I listen to the lyrics of the song that is now playing:

  When I look in your eyes

  You’re all I ever wanted,

  I always want you to be mine

  Let’s make a promise till the end of time ,

  We’ll always be together,

  And our love will never die.

  I would earlier not pay much attention to lyrics or even bother about music. But now I find myself looking up love songs, searching for their lyrics on the Internet so that I can send them to Ankit. It is as though no matter how much I express my love for him, it isn’t enough.

  And finally, Ankit lands up at my doorstep. I open the door and see his eyes light up and his whole face transform before my very eyes. He looks a carefree, happy and besotted man.