Aanchal gives her phone to Gaurav. ‘Five minutes,’ she warns him. ‘And don’t hold the phone too close to your eyes. And not 100 per cent brightness, okay?’
He takes the phone, walks gleefully to the nearest sunbed and sits down. I hear the faint sounds ofCall of Duty: Mobile.
‘You’re right about the young people . . . everyone’s old,’ says Aanchal.
‘Your brother’s cute in that annoying way that boys are. Never wanted a brother, though,’ I lie.
Her brother’s not cute. He’s skinny and shrieky and nervous-y, and the way he leapt at the phone reminded me of Gollum. But the newCall of Dutyhas been making boys of all ages behave that way.
I continue, ‘To be honest, I never wanted a sister too. But it’s cool now. So, you like it here?’
‘I’ve never been to a place like this,’ she remarks. ‘When I read about the Cellular Jail, I never thought one day I would get to see it. All this is new . . . exciting. And I have definitely not met anyone who lives in Dubai.’
‘Do you want to have coconut water? They have the ones with malai in it.’
‘No.’
I stop the coconut water cart and order two coconuts. When I tell her it’s free, she gets one for herself and one for her brother.
‘That’s the thing about places like these. Now that you have been here once, you will feel significantly less excited the next time. All resorts look the same.’
‘I don’t think I will ever have a free coconut and say, no, this doesn’t make me happy,’ she says. ‘What happened with you and your girlfriend?’
‘You know, teething issues. We had just started dating,’ I explain to Aanchal. ‘You know how the beginnings of early relationships are, right? Like a minefield. Every text, every touch, every phone call, everything we say or don’t say has the potential to ruin everything. I’m just wondering what I did wrong. But I don’t want to text her and come across like . . . desperate.’
She frowns. ‘Love is not a game. You should text your girlfriend what you honestly feel. You should be able to say what you feel like.’
‘If that’s the case, honestly, I feel like asking her why she’s being an asshole when we are so perfect together. She just went off to her Nani’s house in Hyderabad for the holidays without even telling me. Went off the radar just like that. Kept me on seen, no replies, nothing. Anyway, I don’t know why I started moaning about her. So, you’re from Delhi, right? I was in Delhi till about thirteen, then we moved to Dubai. Where in Delhi are you from?’
We finish our coconuts and dump them in the dustbin.
‘Paschim Vihar. I just gave the board exams,’ she says.
‘Oh, nice. When are the results out?’
‘Next week. I’m aiming to go to SRCC.’
‘SRCC?! Doesn’t SRCC require like a 100 per cent best of four? That’s impossible.’
She shrugs. ‘Not impossible for everyone who gets into SRCC every year. Anyway, I have to do it. They have the best placements at Delhi University.’
‘Yeah, I have heard. But tell me something. A 100 per cent best of four means you can’t get even one question wrong in all four subjects combined, right?’
She nods. ‘I’m only nervous about English. Math, accountancy and business I will score 100. The results are the only thing that’s like . . . not ideal in this holiday. Which college are you from?’
‘Way worse, way worse, it will make me sound like a loser,’ I tell her with a laugh. ‘BITS, Pilani, First year, environmental engineering, Dubai campus.’
‘But then you’re rich. You don’t have to be great in studies.’
‘Umm . . . okay. But, you know, college is not just a placement agency. You make friends, network, there are extra-curriculars, festivals and all of that. Like I manage my college magazine and that’s a lot of fun. I like reading so I thought that would be a fun thing to do.’
She doesn’t look convinced. ‘If you’re good at English, you should give GMAT or CAT a try.’
‘You just reduced an entire history of thousands of years of writing and reading to a tool to crack MBA entrance examinations.’
‘So, you don’t want to do an MBA?’
‘It’s far too early for me to decide,’ I answer. ‘You know what it feels like? Like I’m the frog pinned to a table and you’re a high-school student dissecting my choices. But now it’s my turn—you’re dating someone called Vicky? Is it like his real name?’
