Page 18 of 12 Years
‘We’ve already established that wine is Jain-friendly.’
‘It’s still alcohol though. My parents don’t drink. Like, at all.’
‘Who else is there at home?’
‘I have an elder brother. He works in the family business, supposedly. Dad still does most of the work.’
‘What business?’
‘We manufacture electrical cables. There’s a factory we have in Thane. Basically, boring stuff. Nothing like the exciting work you do.’
‘Bet cables make a lot more money than comedy does.’
‘Bet comedy is a lot more fun than making cables though.’
Both of us smiled.
‘Money can be fun too,’ I said. ‘For now, though, I have these staff vouchers for fun. More drinks? Or I could get us some food.’
‘No more drinks. But, yes, I’m starving,’ Payal said.
‘Jain-friendly food, right? Will nachos and French fries do?’
Payal told me that French fries could be considered non-Jain if one applied the more orthodox Jain rules, which meant no root vegetables. However, she and her family ate potatoes, so I could order the French fries and the nachos, without onion and garlic, of course.
When the food arrived, I took a single French fry and nibbled on it.
‘You don’t eat French fries?’ Payal said.
‘I do,’ I said. ‘But I’m on this high-protein diet right now. Boring bodybuilder gym stuff.’
‘Bodybuilding is your religion then? I don’t eat some things because I’m Jain. You don’t eat some things because you’re a bodybuilder.’
‘Sort of. There’s a lot of meat in my diet though. Jains go to heaven. Bodybuilders probably won’t.’
‘But like you said, all the fun people will be in hell. Who wants to hang out in heaven all day with Mother Teresa and Anna Hazare?’
‘Oh, you remember,’ I said. Both of us laughed.
Just then, she received a notification on her phone. ‘Sorry, I need to reply to this. It’s a work thing,’ she said.
‘Sure, go ahead,’ I said.
She furiously typed an email on her phone, silently mouthing the words as she hit the keys, unaware of the tenderness welling up inside me. How were her fingers so delicate? With nails of pale rose. Her floral-print yellow chiffon top billowed like cotton candy. Gold dolphins danced down her ears. Her hair, tied in a long ponytail, made her look younger than her age.
She looked up at me and softly mouthed ‘sorry’ for taking too much time. I smiled and gestured that it was okay.
Should I ask her out?But then what about my no-more-women-in-my-life rule? And what about her no-boyfriends-allowed rule? And what about the age-difference rule, if there was indeed such a rule?
The problem is that when you actually like someone, all the rules go for a toss.
‘Sorry, I had to respond to this,’ Payal said, finishing her email. ‘They obviously don’t care that it’s a Saturday night.’ She kept her phone aside.
‘How is work anyway?’ I said.
‘Busy. I’m stuck on this one particular problem while valuing a company. But I’m afraid that if I ask my seniors, they’ll think I’m a total idiot, which I am.’
‘No, you are not. What are you stuck on?’ I asked.
