Every now and then, I look around the airport to find Daksh.
‘His flight is to Hyderabad from where he will fly off to Dubai,’ says Gaurav, when he sees me crane my neck.
‘So?’
‘He’s on the other side of the security check.’
I get back to answering calls. We clear security after a while. The airport’s small but I still can’t spot Daksh anywhere near the boarding gates.
‘Probably at the lounge,’ says Gaurav, pointing to the business-class lounge.
‘Give me the game, I will go and give it to him.’
‘Absolutely not. I will give it to him when he boards the flight.’
‘It doesn’t look good, Gaurav. Just give—’
I try to take it from him, but he pulls it closer to himself. ‘You take it, and I will tell Maa about Vicky.’
It’s a threat he often gives me. He never means to do it.
‘You won’t,’ I say sternly. ‘One more game. I’m going to the washroom. Once I come back, you’re going to return the game.’
‘You’re going to see him,’ says Gaurav. ‘I knew you had a crush on him!’
‘Play your game, don’t be oversmart. One more game,’ I warn him.
I tell the man at the business-class counter that I need to see a friend. He thinks for a moment and lets me go when I tell him I just need to say goodbye.
The lounge is almost empty. I spot him immediately. Rabbani is watching a video on Daksh’s phone and he’s feeding her some kind of purée.
‘Hey.’
‘Oh, hi,’ he says, looking up.
Rabbani waves at me. I wave back. I don’t know what to say to Rabbani or what to do with her. I want to tell Daksh his sister’s cute because I know he would like hearing that, but it would be an outright lie.
‘I wanted to say bye,’ I tell him. ‘Gaurav told me your flight is to Hyderabad. It’s before our flight so . . .’
He smiles at me. It’s one of his fake smiles.
‘It was nice meeting you,’ he says, while putting another spoonful of bland-looking paste in Rabbani’s mouth. ‘If you ever come to Dubai, let me know. I will show you around.’
I know it’s just a thing to say. He obviously doesn’t expect me to come to Dubai. I return the formality.
‘And if you come to Delhi, I will show you around. You have a friend in Delhi.’
‘Are we friends now?’
‘You know what I mean,’ I say. ‘Daksh? Should we exchange numbers?’
‘Are you assuming I’m going to make international calls to you?’ He chuckles. ‘Give me your number.’ He gives me his phone.
I type my number in.
As he stops smiling and I stop smiling, the air shifts.
It happens in an instant.
