Page 48 of 12 Years
‘Didn’t you say she’s an influencer?’
‘She’s trying to be one. Guess what her account is all about?’
‘No idea.’
‘Being a proud housewife. It’s called Home Diva. It’s about how she’s living her best life as a housewife. She’s always posting stuff about the dishes she makes, the rooms she decorates and the mangalsutra she wears.’
‘Is she doing well?’
‘More than you can imagine. Loads of comments from men telling her that she’s really a domestic goddess, and that they want to marry a girl just like her.’
She opened Instagram on her phone. She showed me an account called ‘AkankshatheHomeDiva’. It had twenty thousand followers. Akanksha resembled a moderately attractive Indian housewife from one of those TV serials where mothers-in-law plot to hurt their daughters-in-law all day long. Most of Akanksha’s posts had her wearing a saree or a salwar kameez, along with gold jewellery. Her most recent post was about her observing Karva Chauth by fasting for her husband’s long life all day. She had shared pictures of herself performing puja and animatedly spotting the moon. She’d also written a caption about how fulfilled she felt as a woman doing these rituals. The post had many comments, most of them praising her: ‘Upholding Indian values, amazing!’ ‘I want my daughter to be like you.’
‘She’s your best friend?’ I said to Payal, returning her phone.
‘Yes. We’ve been together since primary school. She’s somewhat exaggerating her traditional persona online. In real life, she’s not entirely like this. She wears jeans and drinks wine sometimes.’
‘She still got married at twenty,’ I said. ‘As per her parents’ wishes, and to a boy they chose.’
‘True. And now she does Karva Chauth in a red-and-gold saree and feels fulfilled. Meanwhile, I review shareholder agreements in a dark-grey suit and feel exhausted.’
‘You’re working for Blackwater, that’s one of the hardest jobs to get in the world. You’re doing so much at a young age.’
‘What’s the point though? Sometimes I wonder if Akanksha is on a better path.’
‘Are you crazy? You’re smart and talented. Don’t you want to fulfil your potential?’
‘But she feels fulfilled. I feel overworked.’
‘Sure, she says so. On social media. But if she’s truly so fulfilled, why does she feel the need to post it all on social media?’
‘I don’t know,’ Payal said and shrugged, taking a sip of her wine.
‘You have to be true to yourself,’ I said, ‘and be comfortable with your choices. Even if they’re different from those others make.’
‘What if they’re crazy choices?’
‘Aiming to have a good career as a young girl is not a crazy choice.’
‘What about the same young girl sitting on the window ledge of a much older, recently divorced man’s apartment at night? Is that a crazy choice?’
I looked at her. She stared back at me.
‘We’re just sitting and chatting,’ I said slowly.
‘Are we?’ she said, shifting a little and resting her leg on mine.
‘Wasn’t that the plan?’
‘Was it?’ she said and smiled, giving me a brief nod and gesturing for me to come closer.
I started to lean forward but then stopped myself. ‘Payal,’ I said, ‘I really want to kiss you right now. But I don’t want to lose you again like I did last week.’
Payal scooted forward and rested her head on my chest. I held the back of her head and lightly ran my fingers through her hair.
‘I’ll try not to freak out, I promise,’ she said. ‘Is this what is called sending mixed signals?’
‘Maybe. I don’t know. I just want you to be clear about what you want.’
