When Hari Met His Saali (9 page)

When she got home Tia didn’t even turn on any lights. She went to her closet and got out a jewelry box. When she opened it, tears started rolling down her eyes and the memories came flooding into her mind. Inside the box was a simple wedding ring. Hari had given her the ring two years back. She picked it up and brought it close to her eyes. It had a very, very small — extremely tiny — diamond on it. Tia remembered, like the flashback in a movie, how Hari had proposed to her and why.

Two years ago

Hari and Tia, who had been going steady for four years, were at the famous Formosa Cafe on Santa Monica Boulevard. Black and white headshots of Hollywood celebrities adorned the walls. The place was packed with rockers, struggling musicians and wannabe actors. It was a small but loud bar, and tonight it was mostly packed with tattooed bikers. Tia hated hangouts like these.

‘Hari, why can’t we go to a quiet, fine dining restaurant?’

Hari was rocking his head to the music. He leaned forward and cupped his ear as if to say ‘I can’t hear you!’

Tia shouted, ‘It’s too crowded and too loud here.’

Hari smiled. ‘Yeah, this is the shit, babes.’

‘Yeah, shit it is,’ Tia said angrily. ‘No two ways about that!’

Just then a chick in a biker jacket bumped into Tia’s arm.

The biker chick threw Tia a peace sign. Tia managed a smile.

‘I have to use the restroom. Please
mere saath chal, na
?’ She wanted Hari to accompany her to the toilets.

Hari didn’t want to go.

‘Really? You want me to accompany you to the loo?’ Hari was drunk.

The toilets were at the end of a small passageway that was even darker and grungier than the seating area. Hari brought her to the door of the Ladies. He stopped and tried to be funny.

‘As much as I want to see strange women pee, you know I can’t come inside with you.’

Tia looked at him as if to say ‘Ha, ha, very funny!’ and went into the toilets.

Hari looked around, leaned on the wall and took out a small gold ring from his jeans pocket. It was an engagement ring. He had bought it a week ago, but even after having multiple opportunities to propose to Tia, he kept chickening out. Tonight he was drunk and horny enough to go ahead with it. It was Wednesday and he wanted to drink enough to be able sit through another Bollywood film before they made love. He was hoping that with a ring on her finger Tia would agree to skip the movie altogether.

The ring had a bit of lint on it. He blew it off, wiped the ring on his jeans, and held it behind his back. When Tia returned he held her shoulders and looked into her eyes. She had no idea what was coming. He smiled at her. But with Hari propped against the wall Tia was right in the middle of the passageway. The traffic of people was heavy and people kept bumping into her.

‘Tia Galhotra,
shaadee kharoghi mere shaath
?’ Hari earnestly proposed in his American accent. But it came across as funny rather than the genuine impression he had hoped for by asking her to marry him in Hindi.

Before she could react someone bumped into Tia again and her face landed in Hari’s chest. She was so enamored by the proposal that she quickly recoiled; she didn’t want to miss out on any of this, in spite of Hari’s dubious choice of venue.

But Tia being Tia, she had to react in a predictable way.

‘
Really
? This is the time and place you have chosen to propose to me?’

BUMP!
Her face went into Hari’s chest again. She was getting angry now. Her special moment was already ruined and to make it worse, Hari kept talking.

‘Tia, we have been going out for four years now, and it is no secret that I like sleeping with you … er … I mean I like being with you. I love you actually. Yeah, love is the correct feel …’

To say that Hari was drunk would have been an understatement.

Tia cut him off.

‘Hari, please stop! Please don’t propose to me here …’

But Hari was too excited to stop.

‘C’mon,
yaar
, we always knew we were going to marry each other. This is just a formality. Why don’t you just say yes? I gotta pee too …’

Things would have been salvageable had Hari not ventured into giving Tia that last bit of information. But the venue … ugh … there was too much alcohol, the smell of urine, people cursing … plus he was rushing her so that he could relieve himself! All of this in the middle of her marriage proposal. Tia was heartbroken. The expression of her long-held dream was shattered; a forever-anticipated moment ruined by this goofy guy. To make the matters worse, a tall, fat, hairy biker dude bumped into her. Tia screamed.

‘Just stop, Hari, you’re drunk!’

Hari looked around.

‘Everybody is drunk here.’

Laughing, he grabbed her hand and forced the ring onto her finger.

‘People, people!’ he announced to anyone who could hear. ‘We are getting married!’

Tia looked around with anticipation, hoping that others would clap, congratulate them, smile at them, pat them on the back. Maybe a couple of thumbs up? But nobody gave a shit as they walked past. In fact, one woman even gave Hari the middle finger. Hari screamed at her.

‘Yeah, you just wish the ring was on your finger, bitch.’

Tia, meanwhile, was beyond hurt.

Hari, meanwhile, still wanted to pee badly.

‘You wait here, I’ll be back!’ he called as he entered the men’s toilets.

Tia looked at her finger, her ring. It had a very, very small … extremely tiny … diamond. She brought her hand up for a closer look when
BUMP!
, someone bumped into her from behind again, and she hit her head on her hand.

Monday night — Tia’s apartment

Back in her apartment, a smile came upon her as she recalled Hari’s proposal. Although she had always secretly hoped that Hari would propose to her in a romantic setup, she had kept the ring nonetheless. Now, looking at it, she smiled and before she knew it she had fallen asleep wearing Hari’s ring on her wedding finger. This is what she did some nights, putting herself to sleep thinking about her upcoming
band baja baraat
wedding.

Monday night — On the plane for India

Hari was dreading what every long-distance flier worries about. Who is going to be sitting next to me? And he wanted a drink, pronto. He was upset with Tia.

You fight with your own family, you want to hold grudges, but you want me to go and meet them, invite them for our wedding. That’s selfish, Tia.

He also hated her for unpacking his suitcase and repacking it her way. He didn’t like the idea of her choosing his underwear.

And just for that, I am not going to wear the shirt you bought, Tia. Ha, you say I look American in it! I am American, bitch!

This was how Hari usually argued with Tia — mostly in his head. He must have been mumbling because he suddenly realized he was not alone. He was in the middle seat and unfortunately sitting next to him was an oversized middle-aged aunty going to Delhi. Fortunately, after three pegs of whiskey, she became the best person to be next to. The aunty was having whiskey; he was nursing a vodka, his first. The aunty regaled Hari with stories about herself and her fitness freak husband.

‘I
toh
go to India just to pig out on food. When in L.A., he doesn’t let me eat only. I am not boring you,
na
? Just tell me if I am boring you …’

She was excited to have a nice young man sitting next to her. She had always wanted to have a handsome man seated next to her during a flight. Hari was her dream come true. Hari was pissed at Tia and was trying not to encourage the talkative aunty next to him. Thankfully after few drinks himself he gave up trying to be mean towards Tia. It helped that the airhostess serving his section of the plane was a bombshell.

‘What do you call a pregnant flight attendant?’

‘Is this a joke?’ the aunty asked excitedly.

Hari smiled and repeated, ‘What do you call a pregnant flight attendant?’

‘What? What?’ The aunty tried to shift in her seat to turn towards him. She couldn’t.

‘A pilot error!’ Hari whispered to her.

But there was no laughter; there was no response. Zero. The aunty had an expression like cardboard. But after a few minutes a light bulb went off in her head.

‘Oh, oh … you naughty boy!’ she blushed.

The cute airhostess had heard him though.

‘That’s an old one but a good one,’ the airhostess whispered to him, taking the crude joke in her stride. Maybe they are trained to do so for every
passenger, but this one, this airhostess, seemed to genuinely only care about Hari’s needs. She was smiling and she was so charming, bringing him mini liquor bottles and food.

Now here’s a woman who is not judgmental of me and just wants to take care of me.

She was so uncomplicated. Plus, she got his joke. Hari knew his long flight was going to be OK now.

Meanwhile — Nagpur, India

Simi was standing in line to withdraw money from her SBI account. Since it was an inter-bank transfer Tia’s deposit was already there. She had deposited exactly ten thousand rupees and not a penny more. Simi had hoped for a little surprise with the amount, somehow imagining that Tia might have deposited a little more, but she was not disappointed. She had asked for ten thousand and she had gotten it. She called Namit after stepping out of the bank.

‘Namit, sorry
ya
, I am a day late but I have the money. Where do you want to meet?’

‘Hi, just come to my home. I can’t leave the house. I am waiting for the plumber,’ Namit asked nicely.

Seven minutes later Simi entered Namit’s modest two bedroom flat. He lived in a newer society than Simi, but she preferred her own older one as this one had buildings very close to each other. People from other flats could look into Namit’s apartment.

Ten more minutes later, Tia had handed the money over to him and was relieved that at least this promise she was able to keep. She didn’t like owing money to anyone. When she was ready to leave, Namit hugged her. But it was not a thank you hug, and his hands were all over her. Since there was no one else in the house Simi didn’t resist, but Namit wanted more.

‘Isn’t the plumber coming?’ Simi asked.

‘Oh, we still have ten minutes,’ Namit mumbled excitedly as he led her into the master bedroom. They were already on the king-size bed when Simi asked, ‘Is this where your parents sleep?’

‘Yeah …’ Namit was unbuttoning his shirt.

‘Eweee!’ is all Simi could say as she bolted from the bedroom.

‘What do you mean, eweee?’ Namit asked while chasing after her and trying to undress her.

‘Where’s your bed?’ Simi asked.

‘
Arrey yaar
, I sleep in the living room. It’s either this bed or my brother and sister’s bed in the other room.’ He was irritated.

‘You want to go to their bed?’ he asked, pretending to be pissed at such immature questions.

Simi sensed the anger in his voice, plus she knew Namit had a stepbrother and a stepsister who were maybe four and six years old. It would have been unforgivable to have sex on their bed, she thought.

‘No,
na
? Here’s fine,
yaar
.’ Namit announced for both of them.

He hugged her again, but there was no sensitivity in it. It was more like a WWE wrestler tackling an opponent.

‘Namit, please. I am not … I don’t want to …’ Simi meekly said.

Simi actually did want to, in spite of not wanting to do it with Namit. Actually, she was not certain whether she wanted to or not … or why. All she could think was,

I am going to have sex on Uncle-Aunty’s bed. Oh God, the plumber’s going to come in and catch us.

‘Don’t think too much. You think too much, Simi.’ Namit should have kept quiet, but he had to talk.

Namit took Simi’s shoulders in his hands and laid her down on the bed. She didn’t like this insistence.

‘It’ll be great, like the first time.’

Namit was now trying to hold her down.

Simi had had enough.

While he was unbuckling his jeans, she shoved him aside. The featherweight … weight that Namit carried made him fall on the floor with a
thud.

‘Namit Chohan. If you ever force yourself upon me again, I will kick you in the nuts! I may not know much about sex, but I do know that that will hurt you so much you might not be able to have sex ever again.’

‘What?’

Seeing Simi’s body language and hearing the intent in her voice, Namit knew she meant business and he instinctively palmed his groin for protection.

‘You are an asshole, Namit. You knew very well that I did not break that window. No sex happened in the car. Still, I am a lady and I have paid for the broken window. Just stay away from me now.’

As she started leaving, Namit followed her.

‘We are still friends right? Simi?’

Simi was already out of the door. She felt cheated and disgusted when she stepped out of Namit’s flat. She looked at her watch. Only seventeen minutes had passed since she had arrived. She felt as if she paid him ten thousand for another round.

Why do I feel so dirty?

Simi wanted to go home, take a bath and hug her mother. She couldn’t understand why. She felt good about herself. She had told Namit off and that felt empowering. Of course, by doing that, she had given up any hope of losing her virginity.

Tch, I was so close.

But she was glad that at least the monetary obligation was taken care of. She texted Tia to let her know she had received the money.

Tuesday morning — 35,000 feet up in the air

When Hari had woken up his flight was refuelling at Frankfurt Airport, and the sweet airhostess had taken him to the smoking lounge. She smoked, Hari didn’t tell her he didn’t smoke. He braved a few drags of the cigarette she had offered him and learnt that she was engaged to a racecar driver from Italy.

Damn, I am outta this race.
But then realized,
What was I gonna do if she was not engaged anyway?

The answer was, of course, nothing. He wouldn’t be able to even if he had a chance. Fantasies and all were fine, but Hari knew that he truly loved Tia and was never knowingly going to hurt her.