‘Just give her the helmet.’
9.
Aanchal Madan
We sit at the plastic table outside Haldiram’s on unbalanced chairs that threaten to topple with our weight and order two plates of spicy papdi chaat. The flavours melt in my mouth, and I tell Daksh that people have tried and failed to recreate this in New York. He calls me bougie and I remind him that he’s the OG bougie, the guy whose parents had spent lakhs on a holiday package to the Andamans. For a moment we both fall silent. I wonder if he, too, is reminiscing about that time, and of course, he is. It feels like it was a dream, a distorted memory, a movie. It feels like it wasn’t us, it was someone else.
Then, my mind wanders from that time to Mumbai, to Vicky, to our mezzanine floor rendezvous, which I remember like yesterday. My skin still feels like it’s on fire every time I think about our first kiss.
‘Vicky has a boyfriend,’ I reveal to Daksh and wait for his expression.
As I had expected, his mouth falls open, like mine had the first time I heard it.
‘You can’t be serious.’
‘I mean... I’m not sure, but it sure looks like it. He’s not married though I know his parents would have pressured him, so that’s a giveaway. And he’s with a guy who some of my classmates think is his boyfriend. They post a lot of pictures together, kind of obvious—’
I search for Vicky on Instagram and show it to Daksh.
‘Singapore?’ he asks me.
‘He works with Goldman Sachs,’ I explain. ‘Everyone from my class in school is doing okay. SRCC, no SRCC, doesn’t matter. Seems almost unreal that I used to panic so intensely those days.’
‘When you’re hungry, the fight is all you see,’ he says.
‘But when do you stop?’
He shakes his head. ‘By the way, you’re not doing “okay” like the rest of your classmates. You’re the senior management type. You’re going to have million-dollar bonuses in your forties.’
‘You haven’t done badly yourself.’
He wolfs down a big piece of papdi. ‘Thanks to your brother. I am a parasite who leeched on him. That’s what you used to say, right?’
‘He became what he was because of you. I didn’t want to admit it back then, but it’s true.’
‘Without Gaurav, there’s no way I would have made as much money as I did in such a short time. It’s my fuck-you money.’
‘What’s fuck-you money?’
‘I can go on this Europe trip without thinking about anything. Even if I don’t work for the next four years, I will be fine. If I live like I am right now, spending very little, maybe even six.’
‘Who are you saying fuck-you to, actually?’
‘The set notions of how life must be lived,’ he says. ‘Are you going to start looking for a job here?’
‘I have a few offers.’
‘Of course you do,’ he says. ‘Anything that you particularly like?’
‘Haven’t done a deep dive yet. I haven’t even unpacked yet. Let’s see.’
He nods slowly and then meets my eyes. He keeps staring at me for a long time, his gaze weighed by what’s on his mind and if he should say it. My heart beats in anticipation.
He finally speaks, ‘I think about us every now and then.’
‘What about us?’
‘Everything,’ he answers.
