‘Technically, he will be putting something of his into a basket of my eggs.’
‘. . .’
‘My uterus, my eggs, he will be putting—’
‘I got what you’re saying!’
‘I’m in love, Aanchal. You wouldn’t know.’
I let out an exasperated sigh, my eyes rolling so far back that my pupils seem to penetrate my cerebrum. ‘Been there, absolutely not recommended. Love is a trap.’
‘Keep believing that and one day you will end up alone and lonely.’
‘People can be in marriages, in relationships, and still be lonely. At least I will only blame myself. Anyway, I would have my best friend with me,’ I say and put my arm around her. ‘Who will be so sick and tired of her husband and spoilt kids, she would spend all her time with me. But...’
‘But?’
‘You will have to get a US visa for it.’
‘What?’
‘It’s true,’ I say. ‘Just got the employment letter last week.’
‘Don’t tell me!’ Vanita clasps her hands around her mouth. Then throws her arms around me. ‘Bottoms up for that! Wow! I love you! I’m so happy for you!’
4.
Aanchal Madan
Vanita drives into the porch of the ridiculously huge and needlessly opulent Atlantis, Dubai. The ocean-themed resort—made in the colours of sand and perched right on the beach—is teeming with people prancing around in all states of dress and undress. The last I checked online, all of the resort’s 1544 rooms were booked. Which corroborated my point about Vanita’s peak-season destination wedding.
Such a waste.
Aditya’s waiting for us, a bright smile playing on his lips. Aditya oozes warmth and charisma, that much is clear. He whisks my suitcase away from me. He informs me that when Maa–Papa come, they will be given the room next to me, and that he’s eager to introduce me to his gang.
‘We are all waiting for your brother too,’ Aditya says excitedly. ‘We have a PlayStation hooked up in one of the rooms. We are hoping he will teach us some of his tricks in FIFA.’
‘No one cares about my wedding apparently,’ complains Vanita.
I have always felt strange about people coming to me with requests to meet Gaurav. His fan meets and greets are bonkers. Hundreds of people mob him. He ends up signing everything from gaming controllers to T-shirts to people’s arms.
‘I can never get used to people thinking that Gaurav’s anything but a bumbling idiot,’ I tell Aditya.
Aditya brushes me away as if he knows my brother better than I do. ‘He’s a star!’ Aditya insists. ‘His gameplay is incredible.’
‘If you ask your fiancée, she will tell you that Gaurav has absolutely no game.’
Vanita chuckles.
‘If I were Vanita,’ muses Aditya. ‘I would get married to Gaurav a hundred times over instead. Can you imagine being married to someone who games for a living?’
‘You can still do that,’ butts in Vanita. ‘He’s coming, shoot your shot.’
Aditya is relentless in his fanboying. ‘But it’s not just his gameplay, which is legit out of this world. He’s a funny guy. Quite sharp.’
He looks towards us and waits for us to agree. When we don’t react, he continues, ‘Reddit threads are alight about what he says during the game streams. Absolute top stuff.’
The comment section says the same thing about Gaurav Madan in different words: you play well, but we like who you are more. He’s the only gamer from the community who’s followed widely by people who aren’t into games. Girls who don’t game call him sensitive and bright. Guys call him aspirational, crafty and an alpha. Anyone who spends some time on Gaurav Madan’s online profiles comes to the same realization: that he’s not the usual charmless gamer with the half-developed personality of a frog in a well. Instead, he’s witty, whip-smart, sensitive, aware of the world, eloquent enough to have an informed and balanced opinion on seemingly everything. On his game streams, he talks about the developing political situation in the Eastern bloc, Kashmir and Latin America with the same competence he brings to the discussion about the graphics of the newWarcraftgame.
