‘It’s okay. It’s not as bad as it looks,’ I say, summoning a smile I didn’t know existed in my reserves. ‘Great work!’ I add, looking at the field.
A section of the crowd are out of their seats and almost on the field, celebrating the victorious Royals. Gauri Elena is also on her feet; so are Amma and Alia. I climb out of my chair hurriedly and start clapping (because everyone else is).
The winning team ride their ponies together, doing a slow victory pass, with Vedveer, their captain, leading the way.
‘There is going to be a prize distribution ceremony,’ Gauri Elena leans into me and says while looking adoringly at her son. ‘I will be handing the Rathore Challenge Cup to Vedveer again. The Royals haven’t lost since Vedveer started playing for them when he was just eighteen.’
Gauri Elena’s cheeks are blush pink. ‘You have to join me now,’ she says. ‘We’ll walk to the middle. Next year, you can do the honours.’
I exhale. Next year I won’t be anywhere near here.
I follow Gauri Elena to the dais for the presentation ceremony. I hear wild cheering from one end of the ground, shouts, screams and a lot of noise, but I don’t lift my head. My eyes are on the turf I cover step by dainty step. The last thing I need is to go headlong and embrace the grass.
Vedveer walks towards the dais as the announcements are being made.
‘Mother,’ he says as he leans over and places a kiss on her cheek. She reaches up and presses her lips on his forehead and hands him the trophy.
Vedveer steps aside and faces me; our eyes lock for a moment before he lowers himself and brushes a kiss on my cheek. I hold myself still, inhaling his scent. He smells of energy.
‘Thank you, everyone, for joining us today,’ Vedveer says, pointing the trophy at the spectators, who are still cheeringlustily. ‘Rest, you absolute legends, you pushed us to bring our best game. Great show, guys! Royals, I wasn’t sure how today would go, but you rose to the occasion and made this victory possible. Let’s celebrate before we remember how sore we are going to be tomorrow,’ he finishes with a laugh.
There’s a general rush of activity soon after the prize distribution. The crowd begins to move in, looking to be a part of the celebration, while the staff swiftly clears the ground. A teammate relieves Vedveer of the trophy, and Gauri Elena drifts towards the society folk.
Vedveer reaches out for me, his hand finding my elbow, motioning me to walk with him.
‘You look lovely,’ Vedveer says. I feel his breath on my neck and the flutter of butterflies in my stomach.
‘Aren’t you wet?’ I shout out above the noise.What am I saying? What am I saying?
Vedveer lets out a chuckle.
‘I mean, aren’t you sweating? You are definitely sweating.’ I’m out of control.
Vedveer smiles. ‘The sun is out. I was playing. It happens.’
I nod, letting the rush of words that escaped my mouth settle on the grass around us.
You are hot, and no, the weather has nothing to do with it,I think as we stand facing each other. His arms are folded across his chest, legs parted in an easy, open stance. The red tee, sweat-stained and heavy, hangs on him, while the breeches cling low at his waist, drawing the eye. The riding boots pull it all together.
Vedveer’s gaze travels slowly over me before settling on my eyes. We snap out of the moment when his palm cups my elbow, coaxing me away from the others.
‘Thank you for coming,’ Vedveer says. ‘I’m not sure if sport or polo is your thing, and I hope you weren’t bored!’
‘You are welcome,’ I grin, my eyes meeting his, ‘but don’texpect me to start wearing your jersey!’
‘Fair enough, for the moment! But someday? Is that too much to hope?’
‘Don’t push your luck, Captain!’
Vedveer feigns dismay, his lips dipping in a pout.
‘The mint with a hole is suing, copyright infringement and all,’ I say.
Vedveer’s head tips back, laughter bursting from him. A little behind, Jaipur’s late afternoon sun hangs.
Hmm… God must look like this.
‘We’ll have our legal team look into it,’ he says.
