Page 14 of You Had Me At Annyeong!
A man in his early thirties, with prominent tan lines and a head full of curls, hands her a bottle.
‘Sip on it slowly,’ he says. She has counted six men. All young-ish, lean and tan. None of them look like they’d own a UFO.
‘I’m sorry to have troubled you. I feel fine, really. Please don’t worry. You guys, please, be on your way. Don’t let me hold you back. This is really embarrassing,’ she blurts out, red in the face and wanting to run at the first opportunity.
‘Aw, nah, man. We should be apologizing. We went a little overboard with the frisbee.’Oh, so they do own the UFO! M for men, M for morons, she thinks to herself, before adding, ‘Oh, no, no. I should’ve been more careful and watched where I was going.’Who plays with a goddamned frisbee anymore? How old are these guys? Why do I meet all the clowns in the world? Must be because my life has turned into a circus!
Not wanting to waste any more time with the men-children, she announces, again, that she is feeling fine and is ready to leave, but suddenly remembers that she has no recollection of how she escaped unhurt. She looks at the curly-haired boywho had given her water, and assuming him to be her saviour, extends her arm towards him.
‘Thank you for catching hold of me. You must be stronger than you look, hehehe,’ she laughs nervously. ‘Wasn’t me,’ pat comes the reply, Shaggy-style. ‘The guy who saved you is out to get you first aid from the lifeguard.’First aid? Why? Am I hurt? But I don’t feel any pain.Good grief!‘He should be back soon, so you can thank him,’ he adds with an unnecessarily cheeky wink.
Is thisBaywatch? Why is itBaywatch? If it has to be a movie, since I’m in Bali, can it beEat, Pray, Love, please? Oooh, Italy … PIZZA! But, wait, that’s ‘Eat’. Fiiiine. ‘Love’ is fine, it’ll do. I’ll take Javier Bardem over pizza any given day.
Lost in her thoughts, twirling the baby hairs along her sideburns around her index fingers, she doesn’t even realize that her saviour is back.
‘Er, hello.’
A low-pitched but slightly raspy voice breaks her reverie. It sounds warm and oddly familiar. Curious, she expectantly turns to face the owner of the voice.
‘I love you. Will you marry me?’
Throaty laughter follows. All the men join in and the guffaws only get louder.
‘Will you marry me?’
‘Will you marry me?’
‘Will you marry me?’
The voice keeps repeating these words and starts to echo. The face keeps getting bigger. And bigger and bigger … Until there’s only silence.
Chapter Four
Bali, Indonesia
‘Timira! Timira! Tim! Can you hear me?’
‘Doctor, is she coming around?’
‘Tim!Abbe, kitna soyegi?’
She feels a familiar, cool touch on her forehead. A hand that smells of vanilla and shea butter. The voice sounds familiar, too. Loud, warm, like home. She takes her time to wake up, her eyes slowly adjusting to the surroundings. Pastel walls and cheery, chequered blue curtains. A giant flatscreen on which an old Arsenal–Chelsea game is on stares at her. She can now hear the faint beeping of the little boxes next to her—boxes that look like professional versions of children’s doctor play sets. Her eyes, having taken the surroundings in, now travel down her own self and register a needle. Almost simultaneously, as if on cue, a sharp pain stabs at her head. On trying to trace the trigger, she discovers a tiara-like bandage across her crown. Unable to hold it in any longer, she finally cries out in shock and agony.
‘AAAAAAAAAAAAA!’
She shrieks loud enough to disturb the nurses at their station engrossed in a dubbed rerun of Jang Hyuk’sYou Are My Destinyon the Biki app on their phone. One of them comes running and barges into the room.
‘Is everything okay? Doctor, can I help?’
The doctor—a man in his early fifties, balding, a million laughter lines around his eyes and mouth—laughs a little and tells the nurse not to worry and to get Timira something to eat.
‘Timmy, darling, does it hurt?’
Alice’s large, kind eyes are looking down at her. ‘Um, no. Not really,’ she lies.
I’m a strong girl. Nothing can hurt me.
Bhaskar walks closer to the bed and asks in a small voice, ‘Bro,tu theek hai na?’
