“Irrelevant.I am sure this Jimmy Shergill in your life is some great-great-grandson of Wilfred boss sent to take revenge for corrupting the ears of his stone-faced brothers and sisters on monuments across India.”
“Stop.For once, be serious.”I roll my eyes at Jatin, comparing my gym Jimmy with the Indian actor, Jimmy.
Oh dear, when did he become mine?Am I regressing at my age?Be mature and rational.Consider your greying stubble and receding hairline for once.I say the mantra in my mind, repeating the words for the hundredth time since returning from the gym.
“So, you like him.”
Uff.Why do I put up with Jatin?“Remind me why we are friends?”
“You are attracted to him.”His mind is hurtling down a one-track railroad.
“For heaven's sake!The guy is a six-foot gym instructor with vein-popping muscles.What's not to drool over?”Add a decent mug to the sculpted, toned body beneath the overstretched, deep-blue gym uniform.How does a gay man resist?I have spent the week since the run-in at the park fantasising.“But, he is a kid.Such thoughts about him are inappropriate.”
“The dude manages a gym.He must be over eighteen, and, as you said, he is gay.Addy dear, you can be his sugar daddy.”Jatin sing-songs.
“Shut up.Why would Jimmy want me?”
“Why not?You are decent-looking, though not as handsome as me.You are mature, caring, and established in your life.You, my dearest friend, are a catch.And, if you are not going to try now, how will you find someone?”Jatin pauses for a second.
“The only thing you need to find is if your Jimmy is a one-night stand kind of guy or a keeper.”He snorts on the phone.“If he is a handsome gym jock as you describe, even a one-nighter would do your grumpy ass some good.”
“Oh, please, for God’s sake, stop planting these seeds in my mind.”
In the past few days, the shovelling done by my imagination has made the ground fertile.The song from the Hindi movieJawaani Diwanistarts playing in my ears.Saamne yeh kaun aaya dil mein hui hulchul.These words are perfect for the commotion the sight of Jimmy causes in my chest.Before meeting him, the lyrics of Hindi movie love songs never made sense to me.I never had a reference point.But now, the heart wants to hum those melodies.
“J, I am scared.Why would a fine young man be interested in me at this age?”
Jatin takes a deep breath, “Addy, hiding will not help.You need people in your life.Jas and I worry about you.What if something were to happen?I am six hours away.Every relationship does not have to be about sex.Start as friends.”
“Yeah.I will.Try.To make friends.”I whisper into the phone.
“And Addy, spend more time with the living.”
“Hmm.Mmm.Sure.Thanks.I love you.”I plant a kiss on the screen.
“Yuck!Did you kiss the phone?”He gags in disgust, but the amused fondness in his voice turns into a chuckle.“Go shimmy with your Jimmy and keep me posted.Bye.”
He disconnects, leaving me staring out the window at the valley; the rare human link snapped.Jatin can only be there sometimes.
This is an unfamiliar predicament for me.A few months ago, every few hours of social interaction made me itchy.Post lectures, I used to run to lock myself in my room.Drinks and bars are not my thing.I am not a party animal.It was one of the many friction points between Shalini and me.She was the life of any social gathering, while I had a strange marital relationship with the idiot box, revelling in historical documentaries.
I craved solitude in Delhi, which I found in this secluded stone-walled cottage on a lonely hill.After visiting the gym at the local resort two days ago, the gaping void in my life is apparent.The flutter in my chest returns, but I have no right to indulge in these yearnings.Unless I clear the clutter of my past, I cannot create space for someone else.They would have to walk on the Lego bricks of my guilt of ruining Shalini’s life and stumble around the scattered boxes of my lies.
Alone in the cottage, these strings will choke me, so what do I do for the rest of my day?How much time can I spend listening to music or reading books?I pick up my binoculars and walk to the first floor; I might as well enjoy the views.Watching birds may take my mind off Jimmy.Moving objects are better.If they are stationary, I tattle with them.
The best are birds or butterflies.Perhaps spending some time finding them will help sort out the current state of my mental gymnastics.Amidst the thick forest, birds are challenging to find and follow; they fly along random paths, unlike buses, cars, or trucks on the road, which move in a monotonous linear motion.
Through the focused lens, my eyes scan the pine and deodar trees, but I have no luck at this time of the day.However, a motorcycle purring on the winding road catches my ear.I track its meandering movement on the tarred road coiled around the mountain until the hairpin turn.A loud screech of the brakes echoes through the valley.Oh, dear.A jaywalker.
The rider steps down, puts the motorcycle on the stand, and removes his helmet.He walks to the woman, gathering the scattered plums from the fallen basket.
I zoom in and watch the two collect the produce.The man, in a body-hugging yellow T-shirt and black pants, helps the lady pull the basket over her head.They exchange a few words the man turns back.His hand sweeps the hair from his forehead before he puts on the black goggles.
“Jimmy!”I panic at the recognition.My squeak sets off the birds in the nearby pine trees and the thundering in my heart.Oh, Sir Wilfred.What spell have you cast?
***
JIMMY
