We know we are close when the sounds of nightlife begin to seep through the air—a mix of thumping bass, periodic whoo-hoos and lively chatter.
I park the bike in a designated area already teeming with an array of scooters and motorcycles.
‘Why are you looking at the bike like that? It’s not yours,’ says Amruta.
‘It’s a mixed feeling of exhilaration and disgust. I can’t get over that I like to ride a bike. So basic, yaar.’
‘Next thing I know you will be ripping off exhaust pipes and changing your DP to Virat Kohli’s.’
‘I can almost hear Jagath and Zeenath snigger.’
‘Wait a couple of years and you will like running too,’ says Amruta.
She reaches out for my hand, and I wrap my fingers around hers. Just as we enter the street, a mix of aromas hits me—grilled seafood, frying garlic and some smells of lightly fried sea creatures I recognize from their squishy parts. We walk some more, and the environment transforms dramatically. Neon lights blaze against the night. Signs and screens vie for attention with bright, bold letters. The street teems with tourists like us. Music spills out from the clubs and bars, and people stumble out in different states of drunkenness.
Amruta tugs my hand, pulling us towards a street vendor where skewers of meat and seafood are being grilled to perfection. We hedge our bets and opt for a mix.
‘Will you get irritated if I ask you if it was fun to catch up with her?’ asks Amruta, out of the blue.
I shrug. ‘It was normal.’
‘Are you sure?’
I can sense the insecurity in her voice. It splinters my heart a little because I have never seen her like this. ‘It felt like nothing.’
‘I’m not a child, I can take it.’
Little sentences can lodge in one’s mind and slowly corrode it. I weigh my words carefully. I can’t be cavalier about this. I rehearse the words in my head.
‘Not nothing,’ I correct myself. ‘There’s a feeling of loss when I look at her. Of what could have been.’
We pay the vendor and slowly walk to a nearby makeshift bar where buckets of cocktails are the main attraction. We pick a bucket filled with Thai rum and passionfruit juice.
She responds as carefully as I had. ‘Why can’t that future be built now? Why not give her another chance?’
There’s no envy in her voice, just curiosity.
‘I have changed, she has changed,’ I say. ‘We are now like the Ship of Theseus. Little by little, I have become a different person. So has she. She’s not the person I had dated, and I’m not the person she had. Everything about us is different.’
‘And you think the new person she has become, you won’t like it?’
‘I have no interest in knowing her any more,’ I say. ‘I think I’m done. And you and I both know that to build a future together, you need a lot more than like.’
The words come with a ferocity I hadn’t expected. I really feel done.
I continued, ‘Had you asked me the same question in the minivan, I would have lied. Probably. But I’m not lying now. I’m happy for her. That guy, Saket, seems to be a good fit for her. And she seems motivated to make it work. That’s all you need. Love’s enthusiasm, but being in love, it’s a skill. You have to get up and be intentional. You have to decide to be in love every day.’
‘Do you think we are skilful?’
‘Absolutely. There’s no one better than us.’
She nods and stares at her drink. She looks up and asks, ‘Then why are we not getting married?’
I look at her, trying to see if this was an accusation.
Before I can answer, she says, ‘Of course, I’m not putting this on you. This is a question for us.’
‘This morning, I had taken the motorcycle out before you woke up. To get some clarity—’
