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‘Okay, sorry,’ I said, meekly. ‘How do you know that Arjun loves me, given that even I don’t know that?’
‘He told me … I mean he told you.’
‘What? Mum, what are you blabbering about?’
P.P. Padma cast me a glance that would have made even a dead man turn cold. I ignored her and continued to chat with Mum, my legs resting on the table next to the desktops.
‘Okay, let me explain. He sent a package addressed to you.’
‘Okay…’
‘So I opened it.’
‘Mum! How can you open my mail?’
Mum ignored me and continued. ‘And out came a CD. I put it into my laptop and it was a voice-recording. Frankly speaking, Beta, there was a lot of gibberish in it. I think he was reciting some poetry, which made no sense to me. There was some nonsense about stars looking like your eyes or maybe your eyes looking like stars ... which, of course, is a ridiculous thing to say; stars are like dots, they don’t resemble eyes either in shape or form. Anyway, after a lot of dilly-dallying, he finally came to the point and said that he has loved you since he first saw you. But it doesn’t make sense either.’
‘Why doesn’t it make sense?’
‘Now I know we first met his family when you kids were a year old. So if I were to believe him, he has been in love with you since you both were one, which is ridiculous,’ said Mum, doing some quick maths.
Arjun is my next-door neighbour, occupant of the famous A/138 apartment. To be honest, he is quite cute but I have never fancied him. He and I were at school together, then went to the same mathematics coaching centre and then the same engineering college. Thankfully, we parted ways after that and ended up in different business schools. I distinctly remember a time, in class six, when I hit him on the head with a ruler, after which he was taken to the infirmary and given twenty stitches. He still bears the scars. If that were not enough, in engineering college, I was cheating from his answer script and he got caught. I know I am very mean; still I can’t help but giggle uncontrollably when I think of that.
Why he would ever fall in love with a girl who displays a distinct streak of violence at the tender age of twelve and grows up to become a cheat was beyond me. Anyway, people do strange things.
‘This is weird,’ I said, staring at the little black bindi that adorned P.P. Padma’s forehead.
‘Yes!’ said Mum.
‘Then?’
‘Then I got angry. How can you send a courier like that to the girl’s mother, of all people? These boys have no sense of decorum and protocol. It’s fine if you are in love with a girl, but go tell the girl! Why send a CD recording to the girl’s mother?’
‘But Mum, he didn’t send it to you,’ I said feebly, my head reeling.
‘Whatever. Now don’t go around defending him,’ said Mum, chiding me. ‘I called up Leela Aunty and told her that your wedding is fixed. I told her to convey this to her rowdy son…’
The world swam in front of my eyes. Poor Leela Aunty.
‘Kasturi!’ I heard my boss, Mr Vijaywada, holler in the background.
‘Mum! I need to go now,’ I said impatiently.
‘Why?’
‘Mum! I am in office, that’s why.’
‘So?’ she asked innocently. ‘Pankudi Aunty and I chat for hours when she is in office’
‘Mum!’
‘Oh okay,’ said Mum half-heartedly and hung up.
‘Kasturi!’ Mr Vijaywada hollered from his cabin once again. I sighed.
P.P. Padma tucked a strand of religiously oiled and very long hair behind her ear and looked disapprovingly in my direction. The daggers in her eyes, I thought philosophically to myself, will kill me one day.
I smiled apologetically, feeling, as I always do when I am on the receiving end of that stare from P.P. Padma, quite small. One day, I vowed
