Page 135 of You Had Me At Annyeong!
‘Or maybe he cares too much. And the fact that he can’t be with you when you need him is eating him up. He’s too ashamed of himself to call you!’
‘I’m only a flight away. He could be here if he cared so much. Instead of feeling bad about not being here and then avoiding his guilt by avoiding me. Wow, such logic, much wow! Ma, I think the meds have done a number on your sanity.’
‘I’m old, I’m supposed to have lost a few marbles by now,’ she laughs. ‘But I’m sane enough to see through your nonsense and past your giant ego. Argh, you are your father’s child in every respect, so why my ego? Why did you have to inherit my absolute worst quality? Yes, he should’ve called by now. But if he hasn’t, I’m sure it’s because he has a good reason to not. You are not one to give up easily, so why now?’
‘Because I’m tired, mum. I don’t wish to beg people to stay in my life.’
‘Why do you assume they will leave you?’
‘Because they all do!’
‘Timira, if this is about the, er, footballer boy you did not tell me about, and I’m supposed to be clueless about, well, then let me tell you that you are mistaken. He did not leave you. The universe kicked him out of your life because you deserved better. Anybody could see that!’
‘Dang, Ma! You knew everything and kept mum all that time. Wow! How did you manage to keep your calm?’
‘By venting at your dad, how else?’
Timira laughs and smiles fondly, thinking of her puppy-like father dozing off in the living room with the television on.
‘Maybe I really am the jerk magnet my girlfriends think me to be!’
‘Since when do you listen to such insensitive, misogynistic drivel? Calling someone a jerk-magnet means the fault somehow is yours. For having attracted bad energy. C’mon, Timira. You know better than to feed such trolls. Who are these friends? They sound like toxic bullies!’
Oops, I shouldn’t badmouth my friends around Ma. She’ll only weaponize it and attack me later!
‘Ma, I’m okay, right? I’ve done all right, so far, haven’t I?’
Her mother smiles beatifically.
‘Jarhaesseo [Well done]!’
‘Wait, whaaaaaat? How are you speaking Korean?’
Timira is wide-eyed and gaping in astonishment. Her mother beams like an excited child. ‘We were planning to visit you for your birthday, so I asked Alice to teach me a few words.’
Liar! She told you about my Korean crush so you wanted to visit for an inspection. Oh, my cutie-patootie, Miss Marple mummy!
She snuggles up to her mum and wraps her small frame inside her long arms. Feeling safe and fuzzy, Timira burrows her face into her mother’s bosom and announces in a muffled voice, ‘I love you.’
‘And I you. Now tell me, what do you intend to do about this Korean boy you love?’
* * *
It’s Timira’s surprise birthday party. Well, surprise because Timira is in disbelief at having dragged herself out of her house. It’s the very first time she’s stepped out since coming back from Seoul. Every cell in her body revolted and expressed its reluctance to go out. And then Bhaskar and Alice had landed up at her place and threatened to reveal her real age to the young, sweet-as-a-punch bartender at CinCin whom they all suspect has a crush on her because she’s always giving her free shots.
‘Tim, I’ll tell her you are thirty-seven and not twenty-seven. No more free shots for AUNTY!’ Bhaskar had threatened.
Like every good middle-class Indian, Timira loves freebies, especially those containing alcohol. Bhaskar’s threat worked like a charm!
They are now at CinCin. Timira, Alice and Bhaskar—like in Bali. She’s alternating between watching the game, a massive one between Liverpool and Arsenal to decide who goes to the second spot on the league table, and dancing to a reggaeton playlist with Alice. All three are slowly getting drunk on Malibu shots and warm beer at their go-to local pub.
Two tables away, two men with pasty skin clad in Arsenal jerseys are abusing Darwin Nunez who has just pumped in a brace.
‘Exkaayuzz me, how dare you speak like that about Darwin? My Darwin! MY, mine. Who do you think you are?’
Feeling outraged on behalf of her Liverpool FC-loving BFF, Bhaskar, she feels it’s her duty to fight. Rolling up the sleeves of the boyfriend shirt she’s thrown over her sports bra, she prepares to get nasty. But before she can land a blow, she feelsherself getting lifted off the ground and her feet floating in the air as they drift away. Outside the pub, as her feet hit the ground, the bright lights hit her eyes and she winces, promptly shutting them. Eyes still shut, she goes around asking for a lighter in slightly slurred speech. She fails to spot a manhole and is about to slip right in when she feels a pair of strong arms preventing her from doing so.
‘Stop! Who are you? Where are you taking me? Why are you touching me? Don’t touch me!’
