Page 86 of 12 Years
‘No. I’ve done nothing. Just been a pussy, meeting them first in their home and then at the temple. Requesting them. Being reasonable.’
‘That phase is over, bro. You tried. Now do what you have to do.’
‘Yeah,’ I said, my words slurring. ‘And … what would that be?’
‘That you have to decide no, bro.’
The waiter arrived with a bottle of Old Monk, a two-litre plastic bottle of Coke and a steel jug with ice. Janata Bar was the opposite of pretentiousness. Sometimes, I wished the entire world was the same.
Mudit made us two more drinks. I was already feeling buzzed. My phone rang. I stared at the screen—the call was from some random landline number.
‘Leave it,’ Mudit said. ‘It’s probably spam. Just drink up.’
He handed me a glass and cut the call. A second later, the same number called again. Mudit disconnected it. ‘The government needs to do something about these spam callers,’ he said.
My phone rang again. It was the same number.
‘Wait,’ Mudit said, ‘let me sort these idiots out. Calling again and again.’
He picked up the call. ‘No, brother, we don’t need mutual funds, property, insurance, an RO filter, shares or credit cards. Why are you spoiling our evening like this?’ he said.
The person on the other end said something. Mudit’s face dropped. ‘Huh? Oh, Payal? It’s you? Sorry, this is Mudit. Yes, he’s here.’
Mudit handed me the phone, biting his tongue and pulling his ears in an apologetic gesture.
‘Payal?’ I grabbed my phone. ‘Yes, it’s me. What number is this? Yes, I’m in a noisy place. Wait, let me step out.’
I walked out to the main road. Noisy conversations were replaced by noisy traffic. I found a relatively quieter side lane. ‘Better now?’ I said.
‘Yes, I can hear you,’ Payal said. ‘I’m at Rockin Scissors.’
‘Where?’
‘It’s a salon in Ghatkopar. I came here so I could call you from their phone. Even if my parents see my location, it’s okay.’
‘Oh, okay. I came out with Mudit.’
‘Where?’
‘Janata Bar, in Bandra.’
‘I miss Bandra so much.’
‘Then come here. Better yet, move here.’
‘What?’
‘Just move into my apartment. I’ll handle the rest,’ I said.
This Old Monk confidence is something else, I tell you.
‘How?’
‘We have no choice, Payal. Run away and come to me. I miss you. I love you. I can’t live without you.’
‘And my parents said they’ll kill themselves if I continue things with you.’
‘Nobody does that, Payal. They’ll come around.’
