Page 133 of You Had Me At Annyeong!
This morning, like every morning, Timira is sitting by herself, sipping her morning cuppa and glancing at her phone every couple of minutes. Something her mother has noticed. The corner of the window alcove where Timira sits to drink her morning coffee is visible from her mother’s bedroom.
‘I see you stare at the phone whenever you get the chance. Since when have you turned into the kind that waits? Just pick up the phone and call him!’ She speaks a little loudly so Timira can hear.
Oh, Alice. I wonder what all she has told Ma!
Alice has filled in Timira’s mother on what had transpired in Seoul. Feeling rather guilty about the possibility of her medical emergency having interrupted her childlike child’s shot at happiness, she attempts to make an intervention.
‘Why are you shouting? It’s not good for you! Just call me if it’s urgent!’ Waving her phone, she admonishes her as she walks into her room.
Her mother holds her ears like Timira would in junior school every single day, and apologizes.
‘Sorry sorry! Won’t happen again. But, just call no!’
‘Don’t worry about it, Ma. I have it all under control.’
‘But how can you,shona? When it is to do with love, nothing is supposed to be under control. Look at Alice and Bhaskar. You think they have everything under control?’
Timira recalls a memory of them bickering, running around the house, picking up whatever they could find—from unwashed veggies to laundry—and throwing it at each other while letting out the choicest epithets. She sniggers.
‘There isn’t anything much I can do about it, so I’ve decided to let it be. In any case, don’t work yourself up over it. You need to rest.’
Timira walks off on the pretext of doing the laundry.
The washing machine is whirring noisily when someone rings their doorbell.
‘Apa, can you get that?’
‘It’s Alice, Tim! Come say hi!’ Her father has to yell in order for his voice to be audible.
‘Ally! Baby, gimme a sec?’ Timira yells back.
She turns the machine off, and, wiping her damp hands on her cotton skirt, runs to the living room and dives into Alice’s arms.
‘Whoa!’ Alice exclaims, a little surprised but not entirely taken aback by Timira’s display of affection.
‘There, there,’ she pats her on the back and runs her fingers through Timira’s hair as the latter breaks into sobs.
They are tackling the rest of the laundry together after lunch comprising of curd rice, chicken stew and appams that Bhaskar and his mother—who is visiting them currently—had cooked and Alice had brought with her.
‘I must be making my heartbreak really obvious.’
Duh… Alice sympathetically looks at her nutty friend’s scraggly hair, unwashed clothes and patchy skin, but doesn’t say anything.
‘Why do you say so?’
‘Ma brought it up earlier. I mean, not exactly, but sort of.’
‘What did you tell her?’
‘Nothing! I told her nothing. I’m sure you’ve brought her up to speed, in any case.’ The last sentence is loaded with sarcasm and she makes a face at Alice. ‘What was I supposed to tell her anyway? You know I’ve never really discussed my love life with her.’
‘Maybe you should! She is cool, you know.’
‘Haan, bey. My mother’sminion!’
‘I’m your minion, too! But that isn’t the point here. The point is that you should talk to aunty.’
‘Despite the fact that she has been dismissive of all the boys in my life?’
