My mind takes me back to those calls Vanita would make, raw with grief, in the months following her mother’s passing. She warned me against coming to India. But she also warned me against missing her calls. We sit in shared silence. As the announcement for our flight boarding breaks the moment, my mind says, screw it, tell her.
‘Now I want what you do,’ I say.
People have flocked to the boarding gate now.
‘I feel there should be more,’ I confess. ‘More than the ease of getting a business class ticket.’
Vanita looks into my eyes and seems to understand all that I’ve been hiding from her, reading the entire story behind the few sentences I have spoken.
‘Because you’re greedy, Aanchal, you have always been,’ she says with a chuckle. ‘You want everything. And there’s nothing wrong in wanting everything.’
‘I had been wrong about—’
She cuts me with a shake of her head. ‘We all make trade-offs. You have made yours. I have made mine. And there’s a high chance that you would have been unhappy with Daksh. And I’m not saying that because you suddenly want, I’m guessing, a partner. Had you taken that decision all those years ago, against your will, you would have lived your life in resentment.’
I frown at her. ‘This is not about Daksh, though. It’s a general statement. It’s not regret. It’s just what I want now. I have changed. That’s what I want to say.’
‘Oh.’
She’s not convinced so I put it in clearer terms.
‘I’m over him.’
‘Wait, so you’re saying you’re just looking for someone right now? Like to seriously date?’
‘I got on a few matrimony websites.’
‘What?! What?! Why didn’t you tell me! Also, that’s awesome! That’s so awesome!’ squeals Vanita. ‘I didn’t know you were ready. I mean, to be honest, I thought you were still hung up on him. And maybe you were regretting having lost him.’
I take a deep breath and say, ‘No, I don’t regret it.’
My mind throws an image of Daksh and Amruta in the hospital room, promising each other a forever.
‘He looks really happy with Amruta, though,’ I say.
‘Does he?’
‘Oh c’mon. Don’t pretend. Of course, you listen to their podcast.’
Vanita smiles. ‘They are very informative. But I hate Amruta if that’s what you wanted to ask.’
‘I don’t hate Amruta. And neither should you,’ I say. ‘As I said, he’s ancient history. It’s been five years.’
We pass on our boarding cards to the flight crew who guide us to our seats. We trudge along to 17 A and 17 B. At the seat, I hoist her cabin bag into the hat rack.
‘It’s been five years?!’
‘Okay, fifteen. Ten years since I first met him. Five years since that short-lived fling with him.’
‘It was not a fling, Aanchal, but... whatever! This is so cool! Which means I get to log in to your profile and find you a nice guy. This is so exciting!’
‘You’re absolutely NOT doing that.’
‘I’m so going to do that. The second you sleep now, I’m going to steal your phone,’ she says.
The flight crew asks us to put our seats upright and concentrate on the safety demonstration. Vanita looks up at the flight attendant who’s waving an oxygen mask in front of her face and telling us how to breathe in case of an emergency. And just then, I see Vanita’s face lose all colour.
‘What happened?’
