ONE
June and
Delhi do not complement each other and the taxi queue at Delhi Airport was the
closest to hell one can get. Gautam stood as patiently as he could in the forty
five degree heat with his BBM beeping every two seconds and the fat lady behind
him poking his heels with her overloaded airport luggage trolley. The line wasn’t
moving and the lady kept trying to push her way through despite the menacing
looks he gave her every now and then. He swore under his breath. He would have
to haul up the office guys for not arranging a personal pick up for him at the
airport.
Except, he
wasn’t here on an official trip; he was here to attend his best buddy Sanjay’s
engagement. The thought only further aggravated his mood. He hated ‘big fat
Indian weddings’ and was sure Sanjay’s wedding would be bigger and fatter than
any he’d endured. There was no way he could wiggle his way out of this one.
A commotion
nearby jolted him out of his thoughts. Several taxi drivers had gathered around
a single taxi and were listening spell-bound to the complaints of one
passenger, a drop-dead beauty in a summery, pink, floral dress and towering
high heels. None of her bags would fit in the boot of the taxi as most of the
space was occupied by a CNG cylinder. Despite the heat and the delay, she
looked cool and affable, smiling at the driver and speaking calmly about her problem.
She seemed
to have a strange effect on him; his body was taut with unexplained tension,
and the more she smiled, the more irritated he felt. While he fretted in the
heat, she seemed to be Miss Congeniality personified. The fact that someone
else was coping better under the circumstances made the usually rational Gautam
irrationally indignant.
He knew her
kind, a pretty young thing with the brains of a butterfly whose biggest
disaster in life would be the chipping of one of her perfectly painted nails;
losing a favorite earring would most certainly translate to unmitigated trauma.
Thankfully,
the issue was resolved finally, with the girl deciding to sit in the front
seat, with her luggage stowed in the rear passenger seat. In the meantime,
Gautam’s cab came cruising along and he jumped into its air-conditioned cocoon
for much needed, though temporary, respite.
The memory
of the girl lingered with him.
***
Sanjay’s
family farmhouse in Mehrauli looked like a set straight out of a Karan Johar
movie, with swathes of silk and huge arrangements of exotic flowers everywhere.
The place teemed with men in different degrees of agitation, screaming out
orders and putting last minute plans and changes in place. Though Gautam had
expected the chaos, he was ill-prepared to participate. Squinting through the
sun, he noticed a couple of his school friends.
“Mihir,
Rohan, how are you, buddies?”
“ Wah, Gautam. Good to see you yaar . Long time. How have you been?” Rohan was
his exuberant self.
“Same to
same, I would say,” said Mihir. “ Apna Gautam is looking as dashing as
ever. All set for the hungama ?” The friends guffawed with laughter,
laced with memories of a shared past.
Gautam’s
lack of ease at social gatherings was legendary but for a Punjabi boy from an
affluent Delhi family, it posed a mammoth obstacle. Just as his friends began
their incessant chatter about the past, he saw somebody familiar; standing
before him was the girl from the airport.
Was she
following him?
Before he
could react, Sanjay came up to him, boisterously yelling in his ear, “How have
you been? Yaar , I am so happy to see you.” He clasped Gautam in a tight
bear hug, “Tanya’s best pal is here, yaar , I was beginning to feel
really lost without my best friend.”
Sanjay
stepped back and took a long look at Gautam. “Looking good, boss. This
corporate attire suits you. When was the last time we met? Where is your
luggage? Arre , wait. Let me first introduce you to my fiancée.”
He called
out to a pretty girl who had walked across with
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