That Greek God... Part 9

“Awesome! So when do you have to leave?” enquired Jahnavi enthusiastically.

“The letter says I’ve got to report to the Mumbai office on the 21st of April.” I replied, taking a look at the letter again. I couldn’t believe they remembered me. The campus placements had happened eons before and I had lost all hope briefly when the recession period seemed to last longer than the previous ice age.

“That’s like just two weeks from now. Oh no! There’re so many things to pack. We need to get you new stuff to wear.” bemoaned Vidya.

Trust Vidya to get down to the basics. I smiled and sneaked another satisfying look at the appointment letter again.

Ahh..Bliss…At least, some things in my life seem to have sorted themselves out.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I sat amidst my entire wardrobe strewn down on the floor; on Vidya’s insistence. She wanted me to see what clothes were good enough to be used as cleaning fabric and which ones were good enough to be chewed by the neighbourhood dog. As she kept tossing all my clothes to her left and right, trying to categorize them, I realised it was going to be a lucky day for that mutt. Jahnavi watched on, from the queen’s position on the bed with a rather bored expression. I wondered how her cell phone was actually several yards away and certainly not glued to her ear.

Gautham must have probably taken a loo-break.

I brought myself back to Vidya’s stringent instructions. She promised me that she would drag me kicking and screaming to shop for my ensemble and that she would not take no for an answer. Her ‘thick-skinnedness’ has every possible tendency to put that solitary buffalo in the algae-choked lake to intense shame.

It was my cue to smile gratefully at her and throw myself into her arms, bellowing out a thousand blessings to the God who brought us together in holy friendship. But I chose to just smile nervously as I imagined Appa’s pressure cooker head turning brilliant shades of purple, when presented with a wad of shopping bills.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I banged the car door shut and trudged morosely toward my apartment building. I dragged a zillion shopping bags in my trail, looking more like a Neanderthal woman with a bizarre wedding train, rather than an Anu who has had a complex shopping trip with an off-the-rocker friend.

The neighbourhood kids were creating a ruckus over a horribly torn, flattened excuse for a football. Looking past them, I saw a familiar figure in the distance.

It took me a good number of moments to finally perceive the figure’s identity. Karthik could have easily passed for one of those metrosexual men working their posterior-parts off, toward achieving man’s best creation since the wheel & the axle- Size Zero. As he approached closer, the size-zeroed metrosexual man got replaced by a Robinson Crusoe image in my mind on account of Karthik’s unshaven face and a rather unkempt appearance coming into sharp visual focus. I waved to him wondering if he was planning on acting in a movie. Well, in support of my theory, sporting facial hair (bordering on being infested by lice and clinically-declared dangerous by the Dandruff Society), by the lead actors in movies, has become the fad of the day. (On an askew note- Acknowledging a brief stint of corporate social responsibility, Gaya Skin Clinic is offering you guys free skin grafting treatment for what is left of your faces and SBS- Stylized Beard Solutions.)

By the time he stood in front me, brief images of Karthik’s tree climbing and harpooning on a lonely island halted and vanished from my mind, as to my horror, I saw how much he had changed in a fortnight’s time.

“Don’t say anything. Just answer my question.” he said, before I could open my mouth.

“Huh, what?” I managed to croak.

“If it is true that I may not get another chance to say something, shouldn’t I actually seize this one and be done with it?”

“Huh? I don’t understand. What chance?”

I was utterly bewildered and to be honest, a teeny bit scared of the intense look that he was giving me at that time.

“They say, we might get only one chance, just one opportunity to do something in life. We should take it up, shouldn’t we?”

“If this is the best option, I think we should take it up.”

Is someone short listing probable candidates for ‘Makings of a Swami’ workshop in the Himalayas? The only things stopping him from making that trip are orange robes and a Silk Smitha scandal!

Suddenly he smiled, making it impossible for me not smile back. Underneath all that beard and rural intensity, he still was a charmer.

He pinched my cheek lightly, surprising me for a moment.

“Thank you so much. I will call you soon. Stay good till then!” he said, sounding much happier than he had been a few moments before.

“Take care!” I said after him, as he sprinted across the parking lot.

Grabbing all the plastic side effects of my shopping agenda with renewed energy, I made my way home.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

It was about 6 in the evening, when I finally settled down for a cup of coffee; making tediously long lists of things-to-do having sapped up my entire energy. To add to it, Gautham was home to help Jahnavi out with her project, his presence jangling my already overwrought nerves. I had avoided him so far, keeping to my room while they worked at the dining table. But the call of coffee transcended everything, as it always does in my life and I found myself sitting at the table along with them, while they chattered on enthusiastically.

I sneaked a peek over my mug at Gautham and my heart beat raced, tripped suddenly on an abrupt breath of air and landed with a dull thud, after several somersaults. Sssss!!

I yowled when a hasty gulp of boiling hot coffee burned my mouth.

“Anu, what happened? Are you okay?” enquired Jahnavi anxiously.

I nodded hurriedly, mumbled some excuse and nearly ran to the safe haven of my room. I groaned in pain as I rubbed my tongue repeatedly on a cool towel, trying to quell the burning sensation down; rinsing my mouth with cold water didn’t help either. Finally I sat in front of the air-conditioner, hanging my tongue out sadly like a dehydrated dog. That was how Gautham found me, when he opened the door and walked into my room.

“That wouldn’t help, you know?” he drawled amusedly.

I yelped, utterly mortified and angry that he had come in instead of Jahnavi, following the knock on the door.

“Who asked you to come? I thought it was Jahnavi!” I shouted.

“Impressive set of manners, I agree. But don’t make it more difficult for both of us by screaming. I can’t holler over your shrieks.”

“I don’t want to talk to you now.” I muttered ungraciously, simmering inside.

“I saw you both by the parking lot. Pretty picture!”

“What? Who?”

“You do great injustice to your intelligence by pretending to misunderstand whatever I say. You know what I am talking about.”

“Maybe, I’d understand if you stop with your smartass attitude?”

“I saw you talking to Karthik earlier. Now do you understand?”

“What am I supposed infer from this information?”

My patience was wearing thin. I thought he had just accused me by chance the other day. I could not believe that he was tagging another confrontation to that incident now.

“Let Karthik go. You are only leading him on like this.”

“I am not leading Karthik on. Why are you constantly accusing me of that?” I hissed.

“It seems like that. That’s why.” retorted Gautham, calmly.

I stared at him and felt like shaking him out of his controlled stance. I was quaking inside with his implications like dull thumps on my brain pitch. I took a deep breath and commanded myself to stay calm.

“Why do you bother anyway? It’s my life and what I do with it is none of your business!”

“Trying to act smart won’t help you at all Anu. Why don’t you make a smart move instead and stop leading him on.”

“You know what? Maybe you should be careful with what you’re saying now. I might think you’re even jealous.” I finished recklessly.

“Huh, jealous? Of what? You must be kidding me!” scoffed Gautham and I fisted my hands on my sides to prevent from slapping that grin off his face.

Jahnavi peeped into the room at that minute and I wondered if she could feel the thick tension that was so tangible, in the room. I could cut it with a knife and even help myself to two or three servings. Except that I wanted to stuff all of them down Gautham’s throat.

“Are you okay Anu? The coffee was supremely hot.” she said, worriedly.

“Yeah I am okay. Gautham was just asking me if I was fine.” I replied back.

“Veerappan had called. You know how he is. He would not let me go, till I take his call. So I sent Gautham inside to check if you were okay.”

Jahnavi and Gautham exchanged smiles.

At that moment, a searing emotion erupted from somewhere in the pit of my stomach, and spread potently through my whole body, almost making me scream in agony. Waves and waves of that feeling lashed through till it became a physical ache in my heart.

I have shared so many things with Jahnavi over so many years. I have never resented doing any of that.

Numbly, I realized that I was insanely jealous of my sister because she had something that I could never have.

Him… 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

To be concluded...

That Greek God... Part 8b

Cursing irritably, I moved to answer the incessant peal of the door bell. I opened the door with a glare which immediately softened to a bewildered gawk. Jahnavi was giggling over something that Gautham had said, and both of them turned around to face me then.

“Hi!” Both of them chirped cheerfully. Too cheerfully syrupy, I could have gagged from the sweetness of it.  

“Hi!” I chirped back, absolutely joyful in having them over. I love cursing people mentally, especially when they decide to grace the occasion with their actual presence.

Letting them inside, I wondered what was going on.

I mean, Gautham hardly ever drops by unless accompanied by his entourage who love to gorge on Paati’s murukku and carrot halwa, apart from complaining about girls in between mouthfuls.

Presently, Jahnavi threw her bag on the couch and went into the kitchen to get some cold water. Gulping down thirstily from the bottle in turns, they both slumped down on the sofa, clearly famished. Jahnavi caught my eye and cleared her throat lazily.

“We were just working on my project- the one that I have to submit next week. Gautham’s helping me out with that.”

“Oh, okay.”

So how does a mechanical engineer, currently studying MBA, help you out with something related to clinical pathology?

“We had just started working on the presentation, when the watchman shooed us out. He had to lock the doors.”

Before I could speak anything, Gautham interrupted.

“My God, I understand now. Is that the guy who you keep talking about? All those jokes about me looking like him; Jahnavi, you need a huge pair of glasses.”

“I need glasses? Ha, look at yourself. Streak your hair with a few whites here and there and you look exactly like that guy.”

Suddenly, I felt horribly out of place as they continued with their playful banter. It was as if I was invisible or just smothered with the same paint as the walls of the living room, expediently camouflaged. I cleared my throat, more in an attempt to clear my thoughts.

“Anu, do you need some water? Here, have some.” said Jahnavi concernedly.

The doorbell rang then and I offered to go, glad to be able escape from there. I was surprised to see Karthik outside, waiting to be let in. Apart from the ghost of a smile that he offered, his whole persona seemed like that of a hero’s who, although at fifty years of age, is quite capable of portraying the role of a tenth standard kid bringing home some bad news- “Aathaaa… naan fail aayitten!!”. (Mom, I flunked!!)

I smiled and invited him in, wondering what was wrong with him. I introduced Karthik and Gautham to each other, and moved to the kitchen to get some fruit juice for all of us. Soon we had a light conversation reverberating between the four of us, although Karthik volunteered lesser vocal input comparatively and resorted to just nodding most of the time. When the other two got into one of their “private” conversations, I seized the opportunity to talk to him personally.

“Karthik, are you alright? You seem low. Bad day at work?”

“Huh, yeah I’m okay. It’s just been a long day.” he said with an adorable wink.

I felt a little better and smiled back at him.

“Oh, I almost forgot the reason why I came over. Just a sec.”

He rummaged in his bag and fished out a big envelope. On a closer look, it looked like a wedding invitation.

“It’s Vichitra’s wedding invitation. She wanted to invite you personally. But, you know how it is at a bride’s place with so many last minute shopping trips and ceremonies. She really wants you to come.”

He smiled and handed it over. I opened the invitation and read the words, ‘Vichitra weds Aaditya’ aloud. Jahnavi turned around and looked at the invitation in my hand.

“Whose wedding is it? That’s a lovely card.”

“It’s Vichitra’s wedding.”

“Isn’t Vichitra the famous playwright? She has her own theatre group, right?” asked Gautham.

“Yeah, she is Karthik’s best friend.” I said, glancing at Gautham.  

“A lovely person.” I added, grinning at Karthik.

“By the way, she really liked the script that we worked on. She’s got a few minor changes. But I guess we can work on it after her wedding.”

“Oh, wow, she liked it? I am really glad. We can work on it anytime Karthik. It’s fun working with you.” I said happily.

I sipped from the glass and looked at Gautham accidently. A big mistake. Although there was an amused curve to his mouth, his eyes held a steely glint.

Something inside me gave a sudden leap. I decided to put to test what I had discovered in his eyes.

Giving Karthik the full effect of my smile, I positively purred, “So, Karthik, tell them about this new stuff that you’re going to introduce in your show. The one about prank calls.”

As Karthik relaxed and started explaining about the new addendum to his show, I shifted closer to him and stole a glance at Gautham. He sent me a look which promised something sinister if I didn’t behave properly.

Ah, so we’re talking about manners are we? Well, two can play at this game, sweetheart.

Throwing caution to the winds, I focused all my attention over Karthik after that and hung on to every word that he said. My ears could have been inside his mouth, literally speaking. For some strange reason, that irritated the hell out of Gautham, I could see. Although I didn’t understand why he seemed bugged with me, his annoyance somehow added fuel to fire, and I glorified Karthik with my eyes.

Sometime later, the doorbell rang for the third time that evening. This time, Jahnavi answered the door and brought back Veerappan in tow.

“Hi Veerappan, how’re you doing?” I enquired politely.

“Anu, it’s my birthday today. I actually wanted to spend it with Jahnavi. I tried calling her, but couldn’t reach through. So I came over.”

We wished him before he could say anything else. I decided to give him an Aadi Thallupadi  that day, since it was his birthday and chose not to tarnish his fragile reputation in this particular blog episode.

“Veerappan, I had left my cell phone at home. That’s why I couldn’t take your calls. I’m really sorry.” said Jahnavi apologetically.

Wait a minute. Did something utterly change between the last time I blinked and now? I couldn’t believe it. Jahnavi actually apologized to Veerappan?

The only thing, Jahnavi is synonymous with in this whole world is the sentiment that Actor Vijaykanth shares on screen- “Ey, Enakku pudikaadha orey oru vaarthai- Sorry!! Ah…”. (The one word that i don't like is Sorry!! ah...)

“Jahnavi, please don’t say sorry. There should be no sorrys and thank-yous between us.” Veerappan proclaimed abashedly.

Considering Jahnavi, I was sure she had an ulterior motive behind the whole sappy set up. I hid a smile and looked at her; she was trying really hard not to pounce on him and tear him to shreds.

At that moment, Karthik got a phone call and he excused himself to take it. I watched on anxiously when after a few minutes of conversation, Veerappan got impatient. He wanted to speak to Jahnavi and pulled her aside. Suddenly to my chagrin, I was left alone with Gautham and I was so petrified he would say whatever he had in his mind. It just took another extra second to prove my thoughts right.

“That couch is big enough to hold four people comfortably.” he began without a preamble and continued, “But you had to squeeze in close to him to prove what? That it’s 18 degrees in Chennai and is an extremely cold winter?”

“Gautham! Are you crazy? What are you saying?” I spluttered, completely embarrassed.

This was the first real conversation that we had had in months and I wasn’t particularly a great fan of the topic of talk.

“I am talking about what I saw and you know what it is. Don’t act obtuse.”

“I’m not being obtuse. I was just playing an active part in the chat previously. I don’t understand why you need to have a say about where I sit and what I do.”

“He’s a nice guy. Leave him alone, Anu.” he growled.

My jaw dropped open as the implication of his words bumped on my head with a dull clang. Retrospectively, I realised then that I had been suffering from quite a good version of ADD earlier. I wanted Gautham to notice me and I understood that it was possible if I showered Karthik with attention. I grimaced mentally, not comprehending how I could have been so reckless. But I was not going to let Gautham see that.

I will bawl my eyes out privately, but now I have to hold fort.

“What? How dare you imply something like that? You have the audacity to…”

Karthik chose that precise minute to interrupt my angry hissing and came over to tell us that he had some work and had to leave immediately. As he was saying his goodbyes, the other two guys got some Gnana Oli, and decided to get going as well.

“Jahnavi, I will help you with your project tomorrow. I will call you.” said Gautham.

He reserved a look of scorching hardness for me, gave a slight nod to his head and moved towards the front door. Veerappan, surprisingly, didn’t cling to Jahnavi at all and made a graceful (by his standards) beeline for the door.

I put all the glasses for wash in the kitchen sink and sat in the terrace for a while, trying to reflect on the events of the evening. A while later, Paati asked me if I wanted to have some coffee and I could have cried out of sheer gratefulness.

“Anu, enna di, nee oru boyfriend varuvaan nnu thaane sonne. Moonu peru vandhirdhaale. (Anu, you were talking about one boyfriend weren’t you? But there were three of them at home today.)” she said with a twinkle in her eye and went inside, leaving me dumbstruck.

Paaaaaaaaattttttiiiii…. Oh, someone kill me. Kill me, right now!

That day, in my life, I had a Karthik whom I didn’t want, a Veerappan who had made a stage exit a couple of episodes before and a Gautham who was in love with my sister.

That’s the truth Paati… that’s my love-life.

That Greek God... Part 8a

9 months earlier…

“I can’t believe you did that to me. I thought you were my friend.” said Anu indignantly.

“Of course, I am your friend. But you have to look at the truth of the situation. You were wrong in there. I had to agree with the other girl. Why do you have to take it so seriously?” he replied, clearly exasperated with her. 

“She b*****s about me and you agree with her?”

“Listen, she wasn’t doing that. And stop using words that are so unlike you!”

“I can’t believe you are supporting her even now!”

“I wasn’t supporting her. Stop introducing minor arguments in the conversation. God, you girls always do that!”

Anu stomped off in an unladylike fashion at that. She resolved never to talk to him again in her life.

The final semester rampaged across everyone’s time and there was not even a minute left to think or feel about what had happened. Three months later, an unfortunate headlong crash into his car eased matters to a certain extent. They could at least look at each other and let loose a smile from their otherwise rigid countenances, after that. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

And now, all I can do is just talk to Gautham about stuff like the Margazhi Kolam Contest or the special episode on the hydrological habits of amphibians. Funny, how your best friend turns into a stranger overnight. Funnier is how it doesn’t happen with thunderous blaring of horns and warning sirens. It just takes a silly argument blown out of proportion. 

I scrubbed furiously at the non-existent stain on the table and stepped back to enjoy my handiwork. Anyone could eat right out of the table, it was so squeaky clean. But however, it failed to give me that satisfaction. I needed to do something else to shirk off the niggling feeling in my chest. 

Paati looked up from the newspaper and smirked, “Unna inikki ponnu paaka varaala?” (Is a boy’s family coming over to see you, for alliance’s sake?)

I stilled and looked at her incredulously. I couldn’t believe she asked me that. I felt this innate urge to bring her down from where she was sitting. I gave voice to the horns and the forked tail that were trying very hard to sprout out. 

“Illai, ennoda boyfriend varaan, Paati. Avanoda kujaals panna poren.” (No, my boyfriend’s coming over. I am going to have fun with him.)

“Boyfriend aa?” asked Paati, more surprised than traumatized. 

“Aamaam. Saayangaalam varaan.” (Yes. He’s coming over this evening.)

“Anu, unnaala unnaiye manage pannikka mudiyaadhu. Boyfriend ellaam manage panriya? Parava illiye!” (Anu, you cannot deal with yourself. You’re actually able to manage a boyfriend? That’s impressive!)

Umm, err…Paati?

My tongue got stuck to the roof of my mouth as I stared mutely after her; she walked into the other room with a smile, to get a pen to solve the crossword puzzle in The Hindu. I didn’t know which one actually shut me up- Paati’s calm and yet caustic tenor or the high-pitched implication that I wouldn’t be able to manage any boyfriend(s). 

So much for my promise that I would tie a noose around my tongue the minute it toed out of line; I quite forgot how Paati takes everything in her stride. A quip about kujaals with a boyfriend would hardly scandalize her in the least. Even a Bollywood (I hate to call it that, by the way) version of a rain-dance with the heroine wearing the most transparent of sarees (wonder why they even add the water shower when it is hardly necessary) and the hero looking at her from underneath a gazebo in the garden (forgive him, he is conveniently hydrophobic), would only serve the purpose of annoying Paati. On par with the level of a buzzing house-fly. 

I flopped down on the couch, supremely dejected with life and its supplementary offers. Switching the TV on, I sagged back and idly played with the remote control. 

“And we catch Gautham today-,” I sat bolt upright when the interviewer on TV continued with, “-on the onset of the audio release of his much awaited film Vinnaithaandi Varuvaaya…”

Twisting my mouth wryly, I wondered about my instinctive reaction. I might have tried putting my head inside the TV, if the interviewer had decided on a longer pause in the middle of his announcement. 

Get a grip, it’s just a name. What’s the matter with me? 

I couldn’t understand my thoughts or the direction they seemed to stray in. The best way to deal with the confusion, other than cleaning the whole house, seemed to lie in simply attempting to bury it deep down and pretend as if nothing happened. I was really tired of the surprises lurking at every corner I turned. I reclined further into the plush cushion and closed my eyes. 

Just five minutes. And then I will rearrange my wardrobe. Five minutes…

Eons later, I woke up suddenly to the screech of brakes hit in the last minute on a slippery surface. 

“Gaauuuthaaammmm….” 

I sat up, instantly alert, wondering who screamed his name. My gaze fell on the TV and I fell back with a groan. A movie was going on; the actress was pleading with the actor to take it a bit rationally (typical). 

“Gautham.. please, enakku bayama irukku. Please!!” (Gautham, please, I’m scared. Please!!)

Yeah right! 

“Gautham, unnoda nooru varsham vaazhanum nnu aasai padaren. Please, purinjikko.” (Gautham, I want to live a hundred years with you. Please understand.)

Ah, jeez girl, you’ve got to be kidding right? Hundred is a number, not chocolate ice cream. You’d wish to have just led a life of severe austerities in the Himalayas all through that, when those hundred years are over. Gautham…God, this name seems to follow me everywhere! 

I changed the channel…

“Gauthama Buddha found enlightenment under the Bodhi tree which is a holy…” The narrator was speaking enthusiastically in the documentary. 

…and I promptly switched the TV off.

That Greek God... Part 7b

I turned around for the millionth time and looked at the ceiling. I took some comfort in the familiar whirring sound of the fan. Such a simple life, a fan leads. It just has to keep whirling around, staying put in place. Apart from getting dizzy, it doesn’t seem to have any other problem and is quite happy to swing its blades in a circle.

I couldn’t understand myself or my thoughts. It was obvious. I had expected myself to be extremely ecstatic and jump over the moon when all the angels above finally answered my prayers. It could have been the shock of having been given, what I had asked for. Really? I wondered if something was wrong with me. How could the guy who seemed as delectable as the forbidden fruit earlier, appear as ordinary as a morning newspaper suddenly? I got up and started pacing the room. No wonder they say women are complicated. I looked at the clock and was surprised to see that it was nearly half past four in the morning. Needing a caffeine hit immediately to gear up the cogs in my mind, I decided to make do with instant coffee.

Opening the door, I peeped into the living room. It was pitch dark and I cursed Jahnavi with a thousand ultra-huge boils on her face for not keeping the incandescent lights on. She had wanted to study for a test in the other room and had promised to switch them on before she went to sleep. Clearly, she forgot and I sincerely hoped for three extra zits on her nose. I am terrified of darkness and would sell my soul before taking a walk through it. I took my mobile phone out and pathetically used it to light up the area as I walked forward, watching the floor. The throw of the light wasn’t enough to radiate a mosquito three feet away and that was how I ended up bumping into something really solid.

I was paralyzed with fear and my traitorous throat muscles worked down instead of up, leading me to gulp down rather than scream out. In the feeble light, I discerned the marauder to be Appa and he closed my mouth before I could scream in relief. He was dressed up for skiing. The only things missing were the gear and a pair of snow-goggles. He saw me look at him weirdly. It’s been a long time since I saw Appa at about 4:30 in the morning. Heck, I don’t even see him at breakfast anymore. I have it at about half past eleven in the morning, a few minutes after waking up, when everyone’s left for the day.

“I am going for my morning walk.” he explained.

“Ah, of course. But is Switzerland a kilometer away?”

“It’s December right now. And pretty cold outside. Don’t give me that talk. How many days has it been since you came down from the fifth floor anyway, Madame Princess? Sorry, should I say weeks?”

I muttered an apology under my breath and moved over to switch the lights on. I had to escape before he started off about my non-existent job early in the morning. Ushering him out quickly, I closed the front door after him. I made some coffee in the kitchen and was walking to my room when I heard a giggle emanate from the study. Jahnavi is not a morning person; wild horses wouldn’t be able to drag her to study or revise in the morning, however important the test is. And that surprised me, the fact that she was awake at this time.

I pressed my ear to the door. It was apparent that she was in a deep conversation with somebody on the other end of the phone line. I am basically not an eavesdropper. But certain circumstances pull out such instincts even in the most goody girl.

“..ha ha.. You can’t call that ‘love’. I am sure it’s just a brief infatuation...” Jahnavi was saying, with laughter in her voice.

Love? Who the heck is she talking to at this time in the morning? That is so unlike her.

I pushed the door open unceremoniously and she was so shocked to see me, it was almost funny. She immediately cut the call and put it by her side, nonchalantly.

“Who were you talking to?” I demanded. If she had asked me to mind my business at that moment, I would have had no choice but to do just that. But Jahnavi opted otherwise.

“I wasn’t talking to anyone. I was just setting a caller tune on my phone.”

“At this time of the day?”

She shrugged indifferently. I want to reassure you at this point that I don’t consider myself as the worldly know-it-all woman, but I am not a Kuyili from Kottaanpatti village either. It was obvious that she was lying. Curiosity reared its ugly head inside me and I had to find out who it was. I had to get hold of her mobile phone and only cheap tactics would work.

“Okay. Let’s get to bed. I haven’t slept through the night. You must have stayed up the whole night as well. You have a test today. Get a few hours sleep before starting for college.” I managed normally.

She agreed with me (Thank God for that) and picked her stuff up from the table. We settled down in the bedroom to sleep, my coffee forgotten in the study. The seconds ticked by painfully as I waited for Jahnavi to go into deep sleep. After nearly half an hour, during which I was highly strung up to fall asleep myself, I heard her breathe evenly. With a pang of guilt, I reached over for her mobile phone and checked the call log. I forgot to breathe for the second time that day. I recognized the number and the person.

It was Gautham who called her, who was talking with her about stuff like ‘love’, at 4:30 in the morning.

Gautham… My Gautham???