Page 180 of 12 Years
‘Sure. I’ll send you the location pin for the temple. See you later.’
I stood outside the pristine white Hindu Temple in Jebel Ali, waiting for Payal to arrive. The main temple room, with its intricately designed central dome, housed several beautiful idols of Hindu gods and goddesses. The impeccably clean temple had a serene and peaceful vibe, and it was popular amongst the large expat Hindu population living in Dubai.
My phone buzzed—it was Tania.
‘Hey, baby,’ I said, picking up the call.
‘All set, sweetie? We’re meeting at Ling Ling at nine, okay?’
Damn.Ling Ling.I’d made plans with Tania and some of her friends to bring in her birthday at midnight. How could I forget about it?
‘Oh,’ I said, ‘is that right?’
‘What? You know what’s tonight, right?’ Tania said.
‘Yes, it’s my baby’s birthday,’ I said.
‘Yeah, Ling Ling. In the new Atlantis. Near your place, in the Palm itself.’
‘I’m not in the Palm right now though.’
‘Oh, where are you?’
‘Jebel Ali. Came to the temple here. It’s Navratri.’
‘Navi what?’
‘It’s a special religious day for us. I can’t drink or eat much. But I’ll come. I don’t have my car today, so I’ll take a cab.’
‘What happened to Riyaz?’
‘Riyaz is fine. The car’s gone for servicing.’
‘Oh, I can pick you up, baby. I have a car today.’
‘You do?’
‘Well, my friend Sofia does. Her boyfriend gave her a Porsche, you know.’
‘Wow.’
‘Hint, hint. Birthday-gift ideas,’ Tania said, giggling.
I remained quiet.
‘I’m kidding,’ Tania said. ‘You give me lot. Anyway, Sofia is letting me drive her Porsche since it’s my birthday tomorrow. Let me come pick you up.’
‘No, Tania, it’s okay. I can easily take a cab.’
‘Why? I want to come pick you up. Gives me an excuse to drive.’
‘Fine,’ I said and checked the time. It was 8 p.m. ‘Come by 8.45 p.m.,’ I said. ‘I’ll send you the location pin. Bye.’
A little distance away, I saw Payal get off from a taxi. She wore a white salwar kameez with a red border, along with a matching dupatta. As she walked closer towards me, I also noticed the tiny red bindi and the dangly gold earrings she was wearing. A mere change of outfit had transformed her from a feisty capitalist banker to a traditional and demure-looking Indian girl. She had showered, and her hair was still wet. I couldn’t take my eyes off her.
I have two stunning Ukrainian models in my life. Why am I looking at Payal like this then?
‘Hi,’ Payal said. ‘Am I late? Sorry, took a while to finish up at work and then get ready.’
