“What? The disinterest?”
He nodded.
“As a child, sure. Now I have moved on. Grown up. I don’t like him,” she lowered her voice. “All I have is my duty to him as his child, most of which is towards reading his health reports, telling him my opinions and then leaving it at that.”
Nilay cupped her shoulder, running his hand up and down her bare arm. “Such is life.”
“Such is life,” she agreed, leaning into him.
They turned and gazed at the party together. 20-somethings dancing, teenagers drinking in a corner hidden from most eyes, 30-somethings in their own separate group talking kids and schools. They were away from all those timelines of life, and yet still, he knew in his bones that their story was just getting started. She was blissfully unaware of it, or chose to be. But he was going to make sure he kickstarted it. Starting with burning all the chains that held her back from staying in Mumbai.
————————————————————
“Fuck, I never thought I’d be sitting at the same bar as Nilay Patel and laughing about Bollywood gossip!” Cousin Number Three set his glass down. The bar was crowded with the men of Ritu’s family, spread out on barstools around him. Nilay smirked, sipping from his second glass of sparkling water. Nobody questioned him, because nobody thought anything was out of the ordinary when he did not touch alcohol. Ritu had given him a look when she had found a glass in his hand, and he had dutifully held it up and mouthed ‘water.’
“What gossip?” Jimmy Gandhi joined them, resting his elbow on the bar and holding up his finger for a drink.
“NiP was just telling us about the bankruptcy that’s rampant in Bollywood, behind the glitz and glamour.” Cousin Number Four explained. “Money, money, show, show, but no money for the real go.” He laughed, buzzed now. Everybody around him was buzzed. The party was in full swing behind them, the younger lot dancing harder, the women spread out, everybody in their own worlds. Nilay waited for moments like these at parties to get his work done.
“It’s like that for everything.” Nilay nodded. “What is apparent, is never true. And vice versa.”
“Everything? Like, even their marriages?” Somebody asked. “Dating lives?”
Nilay shrugged.
“Like your dating life too?” Cousin Number Six hiccupped. “Oops, sorry. You are here with Ritu. Can’t bring that up.”
“Bring what up?” Nilay feigned ignorance.
“No, nothing.”
“Go on.” He nodded, leaning back.
“Your…dualtastes. I’m not saying it! People say…”
Nilay moved his eyes across the court of men. Then smirked. His mysterious smirk that never answered questions. Only got work done. “People say a lot of things.”
“No smoke, no fire.”
“No, it’s ‘no fire no smoke,’” his tipsy brother pointed, leaning back on the bar, tipping his beer bottle up. “Wait, it’s first smoke then fire, right?” He jerked. “Right, guys?”
“Fuck you are smart when you are drunk.” Somebody laughed.
“First fire, then smoke,” Nilay nodded helpfully, bringing the topic back.
“Yes, yes! So…” he hiccuped again. “Smoke or fire? No, wait, my question was — is there fire?”
Nilay spread his hands out — “It’s an industry of smoke and mirrors.”
“Now you are confusing me.”
“Some say you lean towards one, some say towards the other, some believe both?” Cousin Number One, the least buzzed of all, asked.
“And a few think it changes every month,” Nilay completed.
“Everymonth?”
“This month’s Page 3 said older men,” Nilay shrugged. “But what do I know?” He raised his gaze at Jimmy standing outside the circle. The man froze with his tumbler to his lips. His mouth dropped open. Nilay held his gaze. Shock was now fear.
