Page 31 of All Our Evenings

“Zanjeer, my man,” he said. “How’s the life.”

“Life is great,” I said. “Jiten, it’s Ruhee’s birthday on Friday, I’m thinking of having a birthday party, but I don’t know very many people from her hospital…”

“Oh don’t worry, I’ll take care of inviting people round. When shall I say?”

“Friday night, at six?”

“Bit early. Make it eight or nine,” he said.

I hung up, but the phone rang again. I thought it might be Jiten calling to tell me something else. “Yep!” I said.

It was my mother.

She asked if we could come for lunch, on Friday because it was Ruhee’s birthday. Could I ask Ruhee’s parents too? It could be a big family lunch.

If she felt the way Priya described she felt, she didn’t show it.

I told her Ruhee would be at the hospital, and would be home only late in the evening. She said we could make it dinner in that case.

I told her about the birthday party on Friday night. “Will you come here instead, Ma?” I asked.

“Oh it’s a young people’s party, dear, what will I do there. Perhaps Ruhee can take the day off. Why don’t you let her decide? Also, why not have your young people’s party on Saturday night?” she said. “Birthdays are for family. Friends can come later.”

I said that sounded like a good idea.

“Don’t forget to invite Priya to your party,” she said. “She won’t feel nice if she were left out.”

I called Ruhee but she didn’t answer. I called Jiten, but he didn’t answer either.

Then I called Priya and told her about Ruhee’s birthday and the party at our apartment. “Being social aren’t you?” she said. I thought she might say no, because of how I’d been avoiding her. But she said: “I’ll definitely come, Arjun. I just have to see you acting all cool and whatnot.”

I laughed, then Priya laughed. I said bye seriously and she laughed again. For no reason we laughed a little more and then hung up without saying goodbye.

I recalled every detail of the party that Ruhee had thrown for her friends in her apartment that day; the way people kept touching her elbow or hugging her or turning her attention this way and that, and finally how she’d rested her head against my shoulder. Jiten calling me Zanjeer and her friends not caring what I did for a living, how they accepted me simply because Ruhee accepted me. When I really thought about it, it was the day I’d truly fallen in love with her.

On Friday I woke up early and set the breakfast table: a cup of coffee, two slices of buttered toast, green sprouts, and a banana. I packed Ruhee’s tiffin box with fried rice, roast cauliflower florets, and ragi pudding. When she got out of the shower and came to the table her whole face lit up in surprise. “Happy birthday, Ruhee,” I said. She kissed my cheek. Her hair was wet and I let the wetness remain on my cheek, I didn’t feel like wiping it away.

I called my supervisor and said I was taking the day off as leave. He was so surprised by the leave request he didn’t even ask me for an explanation.

It was nice, to not have to go to work. I spent the day cleaning and preparing for the party. I went to the flower market, the vegetable market, the fish market, the supermarket. I went to the balloon shop but changed my mind; it was too childish. I saw on Travel & Living how to make appetizers with crackers; continental food wasn’t something I was in the habit of making or eating, but I brought cheese slices at Spar and gave it a try. I went to the wineshop and bought beer, whiskey, brandy; whatever I remembered as being served that day at Ruhee’s old apartment. I also remembered there wasn’t any actual food that day, only snacks, so I went to the bakery and ordered a tray of curry puffs, a smaller tray of onion samosas, a mixed tray of dilkhush and dilpasand. I hoped it was enough. Actually it was a lot, embarrassing even, to be so excited for a birthday.

But Ruhee was thrilled, that was all that mattered. She laughed with pleasure at all the things I’d done. I felt so happy.

“You seem like the person you were always meant to be,” Priya said cryptically. She came to the party alone.

“You didn’t bring your boyfriend,” I said.

“No,” she said cryptically. She said something else.

“What?” I said.

“How was lunch?”

“Fine. Well, I didn’t eat much I was so busy.” I took a big gulp from my can of beer.

“She can’t have liked that.”

Oh.