“Are you fooling around here with Ritu ben?!” One of the fools slurred, stepping up to him.
“Easy,” Nilay held the angry one back by his chest. He patted it. “Drink some coffee.”
“Hey, Anish, sit down. We are all joking here.” His cousin caught him and took him to a cabana. Nilay picked up his glass. He took a sip of his sparkling water. The bubbles had all burst. And so had his patience with this lot.
“So, you are not about to tell us if it’s true or not?” The sober one asked. Nilay kept drinking, eyes pinned on the old man vibrating in panic behind the group. Nilay observed as he set his glass down and left the bar, going around the counter and towards the restrooms.Perfect.
He couldn’t leave the court wondering about his tastes, though. For the first time in years, it wasn't just about him but about Ritu.
“All jokes aside,” Nilay stepped down from the barstool, solemn. “I am here as Ritu’s date. My private life is nobody’s business. You had a good laugh, discussed the gossip around it. But I will not tolerate any disrespect towards Ritu or gossip directed at her. She is all I see. And that’s enough for you lot to know.”
Nilay stepped out of the circle and walked down the party, towards the restrooms. He entered the Men’s, and counted one other head aside from Jimmy Gandhi’s. The man hadn’t seen him yet, busy washing his only good hand, running some water on the back of his neck. Nilay opened the door for the young man exiting, smiling. The moment he was out, Nilay quietly pressed the door shut and locked it with an audible click.
Jimmy Gandhi startled up. He was already stepping back, away, towards the wall of glass behind him.
“Whaa… open the door.”
Nilay began to walk towards him.
“You… why did you lock it…? Are you mad? What are you do…”
Nilay scratched the tip of his chin, advancing.
“I… this is… I am not interested. Please…” his voice turned shrill. “I’ll go… just open the door! I will scream! This is not right…”
Nilay kept advancing.
“You can’t do this! This is a crime!” He bumped into the wall behind him and shrank into himself. He began to reach for his mobile — “I will call the police now!”
Nilay reached him and his mobile clattered to the floor. He was trembling. His face was white. Tears burst out of his eyes. He started to run from the opening and Nilay just turned and blocked it, opening the tap of the closest sink and washing his hands. He tried to run from behind him and Nilay stepped back, flinging the water off and reaching for the handkerchief in his pocket to dry his hands.
“Just let me leave, please, please, I am begging you…” He burst into tears. “Please I am not interested. Please let me go, please…”
Nilay creased the folds of his handkerchief slowly and slipped it inside his pocket. He pulled the cuffs from under his suit hems, one by one, and looked at himself in the mirror.
“Please, please…” Jimmy fuva was sobbing, about to fall to his knees in the corner.
“So if somebody wants to learn all that you know about archeology, what are they supposed to do, Jimmy fuva?”
His eyes widened. And he fell to the floor howling — ‘I am sorry, I am sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean to…”
“How does it feel?”
He kept crying.
“Five minutes of fear.” Nilay crouched down to his eye level.
He pushed himself farther into the corner, curling into a ball, broken hand clutched to his chest.
“When you do it to girls, the trip is nice, isn’t it?” Nilay smiled at him. “But, it doesn’t last for just five minutes for them, does it?”
He wouldn’t look him in the eye.
“How many?”
“Leave me, let me go.”
“How many?”
