‘I’m staying,’ I inform Gaurav as I turn away from the window inhis room.
‘Are you serious, Bhaiya? Are you sure you’re going to be able to handle it?’
I glare at him.
‘Fine, fine, it’s just that it’s already a stressful environment with Vanita getting married and then my best friend and my sister—’
‘I’m not your best friend, Gaurav.’
‘C’mon! Jagath and Zeenath?’ he argues. ‘You can’t be friends with married people! They keep telling you the same stories. They are boring as fuck.’
‘Take that kurta off, I’m wearing that to thesangeet. You’re wearing something else.’
He grumbles but I stare him down and he behaves like I expect him to. Every time I browbeat him into behaving, he fires me as the team manager and then immediately apologizes and rehires me. I’m glad this time we wasted no time doing that. Though I know sooner or later, I would have to fire myself and convince Gaurav that it needs to stay that way. The gaming and social media space overhauls every couple of years and soon enough he will need someone savvier, smarter, with the time to devote themselves completely to Gaurav. Gaurav needs micromanaging and it’s going to be tough to find someone who fits the bill.
We take showers, blast hot air into our hair, pat it down with wax, shave and are ready in fifteen. Gaurav’s pleading all this while to drink.
‘Only three drinks,’ I allow him, just to make him shut up.
At his third Absolut-Red Bull, he gets chatty, irritating, and I’m already regretting my decision to allow him to drink.
‘Why are you staying?’
I don’t answer him. Partly because I don’t know why I am staying. And partly because I don’t want to run from Aanchal.She made a mistake, not me. Why should I be in hiding? I have moved on, I have built a new life. She needs to see that. Eventually, everyone will find someone to love and she will end up alone, clutching the husk of the dreams she had and realizing they weren’t worth much. I am not going to tell Gaurav that I heard the desperation in his sister’s voice, a need to make things okay between us, and when I disparaged her, I noticed anger and discomfort. I liked that. Maybe she’s right. I’m not a nice person. I couldn’t enjoy our love, but I could enjoy the little revenges instead.
‘What’s the real reason to stay?’ he asks with a stupid smile that I want to smack off his face.
Just then, the bell rings.
Aditya and his guy friends come streaming in, drunk, loud and full of hugs and energy. I realize I’m not drunk enough for this. For this wedding, for this happiness, for facing Aanchal. Big fans, they tell Gaurav effusively. Gaurav, who’s now happy-tipsy, hugs them warmly and accepts their invitation to play FIFA after the sangeet ends.
Then one guy asks, ‘Hey? Do you want to join in the dance performance?’
Gaurav turns to me to ask. ‘Should we?’
‘Is her friend dancing?’
They all look at each other, confused.
I add, ‘The one from Delhi, the good-looking one?’
‘Aanchal!’ two of them squeal immediately. ‘She is!’
I see that she still has the same effect on men as she used to.
‘Then we’ve got to beat them, don’t we?’
They all nod.
‘Do we have enough alcohol?’
An hour later, we are in their room practising the dance moves. The more drunk they get, the better they move. I have tweaked their choreography a little, borrowing from the danceroutine from Jagath and Zeenath’s performance last year. I concoct a lethal shot of a third Jägermeister, a third Chivas and a third tequila and pass it around. I can see their eyes cloud over in real time. Two of the boys have named me their new best friend, ‘bhai for life’, and have added me to their close friends on Instagram. One of them has vomited, has had a fresh lime soda and is drinking again. Empty bottles of Black Label, Absolut and beer litter the tables. Everyone’s remembering the girls who have broken their hearts.
‘And to think of it, you weren’t even coming!’ says Aditya, who’s on the cusp of getting too drunk for his own function.
I warn him that he has had the last drink of the evening. After one final shot of Jägermeister for everyone else but him and Gaurav, we make our way to the venue.
I don’t know if it’s the alcohol in my system or if it’s genuine, but I’m startled by how beautiful the venue is. But then again, Vanita’s taste has always been impeccable. The sangeet venue—dressed in black and gold like all of us, lit up in glittering fairy lights—is small, but its elegance is beyond question. My eyes inadvertently flit around, trying to spot Aanchal. I relished the frustration on her face when I’d met her earlier. In that, I’d found relief. I want a bit of it again.
