“I live beside SoHo House on Juhu Beach and plan to start your sentence this evening at 6.” He held her prescription up and turned around — leaving her office, and that invitation.
6. Kabhi Socha Hai Kya, Baarish Kyu Aaye
— RITU —
Ritu had told herself she wasn't going to go to Juhu Beach for an evening stroll. Carter Road was good enough. The sea was the same. And yet… she found herself paying the rickshawala and getting off at Beach No. 2. The roar of the sea and the squeals of children permeated the air with the strong salty breeze, lit up by the diffused orange rays of the setting sun. Palm and coconut trees swayed as teenagers rushed past her, bats and stumps in hands. Couples were walking towards the golden hour, hand in hand, carrying office bags and tiffins, strolling down to the magic of the sea before heading home to reality.
She paused at the mouth of the gully leading down to the beach. Mumbai, on a regular weekday, was a whirlwind of life around her. A sudden pang of homesickness hit her. She missed Mumbai. Standing here, in one of the most beautiful spots of this city, with the most beautiful part of it scintillating in the setting sun, Ritu realised that she would not get more than a few peeps of this. Her Green Card was in. She was now a US citizen. And she did not plan to come to Mumbai much. There was nothing left on this side. Not even periodical visa formalities. Maya, MM and Gautam were here. Maybe she would compel herself to come back once every year. But it would always be a week or two of vacation. Not coming back home.
A gust of hard wind made her break out of that thought. She had been whiling away the good moments, the pretty sunset, thinking about a time when she would not be able to see this sunset. Ritu shook her head, dislodging the locks of her bangs from the loose ponytail that she had tied while zooming in the open rickshaw. She tucked the locks behind her ears, not caring about her appearance. In her trusty, stretchy black leggings and her favourite loose Harvard Boyfriend T-shirt that hung to her thighs, she had borrowed Maya’s rattiest flip-flops. They were bubblegum pink and not her at all.
But they were about to get sandy, and she did not care.
Ritu pushed her tiny sling bag to the back of her hip and marched on. The roar of the sea rose, making goosebumps rise on her arms. She had lived in front of the sea ever since she had returned this time. And yet there was something about the beach. The salt in the air, the shimmer of the waves, the golden sand winking like it hid troves of treasures. Ritu ran down the three carved stone steps and felt sand invade her flip-flops and grate against her feet. Her sole slid out to rub against the chafing gold. Heaven.
She untangled her toes from the footwear and placed her foot in the warm sand. It sunk. She let her weight fall on that foot and felt Mumbai absorb her into it again. The scenery welcomed her, the sun looking like the strangest half-round orb diffusing light the colour of those childhood Pepsi Colas that Maya and she would sneak into her house because they came for 50 paise and were apparently made of ‘sewage water.’ Bright, brilliant orange that left their tongues red. But what taste!
A shell pressed into her sole, and she giggled, using her toe to play with it.
“Doctor.”
Her giggle fell off her mouth at the sound of that deep voice. She raised her face in time for him to round her and block the sun. His chest was broad, broader than she had perceived it in his fancy dress shirts. It was now encased in a black workout T-shirt, the material slinky enough to stick to his muscles. Ritu quickly raised her gaze to his, but not before noticing that he was wearing matching gym shorts that fell loosely to his muscular quads, just before his toned knees and calves ended in a pair of black chunky sneakers.
Since when had she started noticing parts of a man?
His eyes were bored again, squinty. But his mouth was curled.
“You are twenty minutes late,” he held his Apple Watch up.
“You seem to be doing fine without me.” She turned towards Beach No.1, away from the main beach where the evening crowd was getting loud.
“I tried sitting on the sand,” he caught up with her, striding. She slowed down.
“How did that go?”
When he didn’t say anything, she looked at him, and at the face that he made. Ritu couldn't help the snort that bubbled out of her. His face quickly retracted into neutral territory.
“Did you walk barefoot on sand?” She glanced pointedly down at his sneakers.
“Sitting on the sand got me bored. This noise is not helping either. I was about to go back home when I saw you.”
“Hmm,” she pulled her feet out of her flip-flops one by one and even without her asking, his hand came to catch hers. Ritu glanced down at it, and he immediately let go — “For balance. Sorry.”
“Take off your sneakers,” she ordered.
“I don’t have a good feeling about this… maybe I’ll join power yoga or meditation…”
“Just take them off.”
His mouth thinned. Then he reached down, unlaced them, and pushed out of jet black shoes that looked like they belonged in a museum. They looked like diamonds next to Maya’s tattered flip-flops. He got rid of his socks and made a face again as his bare feet set into the sand.
“Come on,” she reached down to hook her fingers into her shoes, making him do the same to his. “Straight to the sea and that sunset.”
“You want to race me?”
“No!” She exclaimed, whipping her face to get rid of the lock of her bangs stuck to her nose. “Walk. Slow and steady. Just walk.”
He huffed.
