Epilogue

"Hey!"
"Eh?.. oh wow! Hi"
He blinked as he tried to take her in. Her face revived a cascade of old memories that now inundated him.
She laughed, and her laugh brought back so much more.
"Close your mouth and stop staring at me like that."
"Sorry" He snapped it shut, embarrassed. "What are you doing here?"
"I came to meet Gautam Bhaskaran, the poet. I'm interviewing him for a book."
"Haven't heard of him. What book?"
"Oh, nothing special. It's a coffee-table book, 'Art and Culture in Bangalore'" she made quotation marks in the air with her fingers.
He smiled, she smiled back. They looked at each other in silence.
"Well, are you coming in?" He asked.
"The watchman won't let us in. This fellow was supposed to meet us here, but we're early and..."
"Us?"
"Yes, this is Pooja, she's a photographer."
He had barely noticed the plump girl a few feet away. She was wearing a faded green T Shirt with the word 'SEXY' written across it in sequins.
Odd choice for an interview, he thought.
"Oh, hello." He wondered if he should offer to shake hands with her, but decided against it. She wasn't near enough and he would have had to step forward.
"Hi." Pooja smiled back uninterestedly and then turned away, watching the traffic on the street with her arms crossed.
They were silent again.
"Anyway, why don't you come in with me. I'll ask the watchman to tell... Gautam is it?... that you'll meet him in the lobby."
"Oh, ok... thanks"
They walked into the club together, Pooja trailing at the back.
"Listen, do you want to get a cup of coffee while you wait? You could tell your friend to stay in the lobby and call you when he arrives."
"Umm... yeah, ok... give me a minute."
She walked over to Pooja and spoke to her briefly.
He watched her as she returned. She looked older, her face had filled out and her eyes seemed more deep set than he remembered. But then the sun caught her hair as she reached him and he got a whiff of her perfume. He felt as if he had traveled back in time.
"I can't believe you still wear those ridiculous flowery skirts."
"Hey, behave! You can't talk to me like that anymore."
He smiled. 'Anymore', as if they had broken up yesterday.
They walked in silence to the coffee shop. Their shoulders almost touching.
"Where's your wife?" she asked "I heard you were married."
"Out shopping with my mother."
"Really? I can't believe your mother actually approves of someone you're with. Didn't she always think that you were too good for anyone?"
"I don't know what you mean" he smiled back.
"She couldn't stand me, remember?"
"Nonsense" he lied, "my mum always liked you."
"Oh right, that must have been why she called me a slut."
"Oh come on, she apologized to you for that. She was just upset because she came home early that day when..."
"Okay, okay, I remember."
They sat down. A steward recognized him and hurried over. "Good morning sir."
"Hello Shivram."
He ordered two coffees and a plate of chicken sandwiches without consulting her. She didn't take her eyes off him while he ordered.
"You look the same" she said.
"Thanks... I guess."
"I was hoping you'd be fat and bald by now."
He laughed, embarrassed again. He tried to think of a witty comeback, but couldn't.
"Sorry to disappoint you... but at least that means you've been thinking of me, right?"
"Hmm..." She looked out of the window, her profile towards him, her chin resting on her knuckles.
There was a strand of grey hair above her ear, tucked back among the curls.
"So what does your wife do? Is she working?" She still faced the window.
"She was in advertising, but she quit when we had our son."
She turned back, eyebrows raised.
"I didn't know that. So you're a father now? Wow. You really are domesticated."
He looked at her intently, wondering how to say it.
"We actually lost him soon after he was born. Sudden infant death syndrome." He spoke the words carefully, as if each weighed progressively heavier on his tongue.
She raised a hand over her mouth in shock.
"Oh my God! I'm... I'm so sorry, I..." She reached out to touch his arm, but he flinched away visibly and she hurriedly withdrew.
He was already wishing he had never mentioned it. He detested the sympathy the whole thing elicited and normally never spoke of it.
"Don't worry about it" he said awkwardly, looking at the table. "It was more than two years ago, and we're trying again now..."
Trying again now! There was another phrase he hated.
They were quiet again for a while and he thought he saw tears in her eyes.
"What about you?" he asked, trying to break out of the moment. "Any men in your life?"
She smiled again.
"Actually yes. I'm engaged to Vivek. Remember him?"
"Vivek...? Oh, Vivek! Yeah, of course I remember him. Ha! Not bad."
"What do you mean 'not bad'?"
"I always knew the bugger had a crush on you. How long have you two been going out?"
"A while, six... seven years."
"That long? And when are you getting married?" He leaned back as the waiter placed two cups of coffee in front of them.
"Soon I hope. He's searching for a new job. My dad's not so keen about me marrying a 'struggling writer'" She made the air quotes again. When had she picked up that silly habit, he wondered.
"Can't he get a job in one of these call centers?" he asked, stirring the sugar into his coffee. "I hear they hire anyone who can speak English."
"You're still the same you know" she snapped, all traces of sympathy gone from her voice. "You're so condescending about everyone."
"No, no... that's not what I meant." He was secretly glad that her tone had changed. "I really was just trying to be... you know... constructive."
"Whatever" She looked out of the window again.
He remembered why he had broken up with her.
"Honestly, I hope he finds something soon. Tell him I said hello, I haven't seen him in years."
"He hates you" she replied. "He said that anything you touch turns into shit."
"What?" He was offended. "That's a nasty thing to say."
"Can you blame him?"
"I guess not" he said, remembering, "...but come on, we've all grown up since then."
"Not all of us."
"What do you mean?"
"Vivek's still a boy" she replied, smiling fondly "He's always so worried about giving up on his writing and 'selling out'" She made the finger quotes again.
"That's just like him" he said. He was about to say more, but checked himself.
"Sometimes I feel like his mother. You know he still collects those comic books?"
"Oh, I remember... Marvel, right?"
"As if I would know" she shrugged.
"I can't believe you're making him give up on his writing."
"Don't say that. It's for his own good."
"You don't think he should decide that for himself?"
"We discussed it and decided together." She seemed flustered. "Anyway, tell me more about yourself. You're in the US, right?"
"Yup, Chicago."
"...and you're with Morgan Stanley, or was it Merryl Lynch?"
"Something like that" he replied.
"It's exactly where I pictured you ending up. Does it make you feel more secure, surrounded by all that money? You were such a pseudo character even back then... all that big talk and strutting around with your 'bad boy' image. I knew you were actually an 'establishment type'..."
"Could you stop doing that with your fingers?" he exclaimed. "It's fucking irritating."
She sat on her hands and scowled. "Vivek says it's sweet."
He would, he thought to himself.
"Hey" she said, cheering up suddenly "I saw your dad's name in the papers the other day, there's something about him in the news every other week."
"Yeah, he's keeping busy. What about you? Have you written anything new?"
"Nothing serious" she shook her head "I stopped soon after you left. There's no money in it anyway. I was writing children's stories for a few years and then I got this coffee-table book job. It should be published sometime next year. It's mainly write ups on local artists and galleries. If you want..."
"Listen..." he interrupted.
"What?"
"Nothing... I'm just.."
"Just what?" She leaned forward, eyebrows raised with an encouraging smile.
"I'm really sorry for everything that happened back then" he blurted out. "I was such an arsehole."
"Oh" She leaned back again.
"Honestly. I made a fucking mess of things and I'm really bloody sorry."
"It's okay."
"I've been wanting to talk to you about it forever. I just feel terrible about the way I handled the whole thing. I was young and stupid..."
"It's okay."
"I can't believe you're even talking to me now. You must have hated me for so long."
The steward walked briskly up to their table.
"Madam, your friend is calling" he said, beaming at her.
She turned around. Pooja was waving frantically from outside the lobby. A sour looking bearded man waited besides her.
"I have to go" she said, standing up hurriedly. Her eyes were glistening again.
"Wait, do you have a number I can reach you at?"
"For what?"
"I don't know... maybe we could meet up again some time."
"I'm not going to sleep with you."
"Oh come on, don't talk that way..."
"Bye" She leaned down and kissed his cheek. "It was nice to see you again."
He caught her hand "Stay in touch, please."
She wriggled free "Bye"
He watched her as she walked out. As she turned the corner he pulled out his cell phone and began to dial.
"Hi love, how's the shopping going?"