Page 192 of 12 Years
‘Like yellow dal?’
‘Whichever dal you want.’
‘With pickle and curd?’
‘We should have that at home, yes.’
‘With papad and ghee?’
‘Yes,’ I said, smiling. ‘I’m sure all that can be arranged as well.’
‘Done,’ Payal said excitedly. ‘Let’s go to your place then. I’ll get to see your home as well.’
I looked at Payal. ‘You sure?’ I said.
‘Yes.’
I turned to my driver. ‘We’ll go home instead, Riyaz,’ I said.
‘This is where you live?’ Payal stood in my living room, staring at its double-height ceiling.
‘This is home, yes,’ I said.
Shaking her head, Payal walked to one of the sofas and sank in. I went to the kitchen and asked Shanti didi to make some dal chawal for us and serve it with all the accompaniments Payal had asked for. Then I returned to the living room.
‘It’ll take about an hour to prepare the meal,’ I told Payal. ‘Do you want to sit outside in the garden?’
‘Sure,’ Payal said.
The manicured garden outside had an adjoining beach with a view of the waterfront and the villas on the next frond.
‘Wow,’ Payal said. ‘I knew you lived in a villa on the Palm, but this is just beautiful. And massive.’
‘Yes, a bit roomier than the Bandra place no?’ I said.
‘A bit?’ She laughed. ‘This is, what, ten times larger?’
‘More like twenty,’ I said.
‘I loved that Bandra place though. That ledge,’ Payal said. She looked out at the water, wearing the same contemplative expression that she used to have when staring out from the window ledge of my Bandra apartment.
‘You’ve come so far, Saket. You should feel proud of yourself,’ she said after a moment.
‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘God’s grace. I’m still the same person though. Sometimes, even I can’t believe this is my house. I feel like an imposter.’
‘You deserve every bit of the success you’ve worked so hard for,’ Payal said.
‘Thanks. Listen, I’m such an idiot—I didn’t offer you anything to drink. What would you like? Tea? Soda? Juice? Wine?’
‘I would love a glass of wine. Look at this view. How lovely it would be to sip some wine and sit here in the evenings …’
I went back inside, opened a bottle of white wine, put on some music over the Bluetooth speakers in the garden, and returned with the wine and two wine glasses.
‘Cheers,’ I said, pouring the wine for both of us.
‘White wine,’ she said. ‘You remember.’
I smiled. We sat in silence for a while.
