Jharokha
My head snapped in Neil’s direction as soon as I was done reading the email. ‘Neil, there’s no way I can take this on,’ I blurted out. ‘Website banners, layouts, mock-ups … it’s humanly impossible to accomplish this with everything else I’m doing here at the office.’
‘Look,’ he said, his eyes softening when he took in the expression of pure panic on my face. ‘I know you’re overworked. But I have no idea how to do any of this.’
‘Then you must say no! Just tell him you don’t know how,’ I pleaded.
‘What? No. Absolutely not.’
‘Why the hell not?’ I threw my arms in the air. ‘It’s not like he’ll hold it against hischamp!’
He just stared at me. ‘It’s not going to happen.’
‘Well, you better figure out what to say to him because I’m not going to design a whole website just to make you look good,’ I all but hissed at him.
He was quiet for a few seconds and I almost thought I’d gotten through to him. But then he said, ‘Then you’d better figure out whatyou’regoing to tell him too.’
I narrowed my eyes. ‘What the hell does that mean?’
He shrugged, distant and cold. ‘You know exactly what it means.’
seven
A Fish Out of Water
Youhave to be a world-class loser to feelthislonely in a city with a population of 12.5 million. The twenty-one-year-old girl who had fought her family to move to Mumbai would be heartbroken if she could see me right now. Hugging my knees and staring out at the glittering lights from my living room balcony (which was really just a glorified window), I couldn’t help but wonder how I’d gotten here.
It hadn’t always been like this. I remember the months after the big move—I’d been awestruck. In those first few months, I lived in a constant state of culture-shock induced optimism, convinced that any day now, the big-city life I had dreamed about would finally begin. It took me years to realize that this was it. Nothing more was coming.
The pigeon that lived outside my balcony fluttered its wings, and I traced my finger along the safety net between us. It cooed softly and I wondered if it too was feeling homesick. ‘Where is your home, buddy?’
It cocked its head in response, its beady eyes regarding me with interest.
‘At least you don’t have to pay rent,’ I said.
‘Babe, are you seriously talking to the pigeons again?’ A voice interrupted us. Nikita stood in the hallway with her handson her hips, wearing a strappy, shimmering dress that made her resemble a disco ball. She was looking at me like I had completely lost my marbles.
‘Uh, no, I was just … on the phone,’ I said, clearing my throat.
‘Right,’ she said, looking between me and the pigeon before clapping her hands loudly to shoo the poor bird away. ‘Dirty, noisy bastards. This whole city is infested with them.’
I shrugged from where I was seated on the floor. ‘They’re harmless … if you can get over all the pooping.’ It was pretty hard to hate pigeons whenDDLJwas your favourite movie.
‘Ugh, I don’t want to think about pigeon shit right now,’ she said, making a face. ‘What do you think of my dress? Is it too extra?’
The golden sequins on her outfit caught the light as she twisted her hips from side to side. ‘Uh …’Yes.Way too extra.‘Maybe a little bit …’ I managed.
Her face lit up. ‘Then it’s perfect.’
‘Where are you off to?’ I asked to be polite.
She walked over to the shoe rack by the main door and squatted in front of it. ‘I met this guy at an audition today. His friend is throwing a house party,’ she said.
