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‘Don’t lie,’ I said, meaning it.
‘Well … I felt you had everything very easy … too easy.’
‘What do you mean by that?’
‘You know … how little you worked and how smitten Vijaywada was with you. How you seemed to have this bunch of really cool friends … you know.’
I grunted, not really getting it.
‘Okay,’ she said firmly, ‘I will say it as it is … or was. I was jealous. Plain jealous. I felt you had it all. Good looks, charming personality, fabulous boyfriend, doting parents, great friends...’
I did not know where to look.
‘I told myself that obviously something has to be wrong with Kasturi and decided that you are horrible. Which you are not and you went out of your way to help me and really changed my life, in a way, and I … I…’ Paddy fumbled, helpless now.
It was my cue to get up and give her a big hug. ‘Let’s forget all about it,’ I said.
‘Let’s do that, Kassie!’ said Paddy, returning my wide smile with an even wider one.
3 July 2013.
I feel absolutely miserable.
It does not help that, of late, Mum has taken to sprouting Hindi idioms at me. Idiom of the day is, ‘Jaisi karni, waisi bharni.’
The idiom yesterday was, ‘Ab pachhtaye kya hoye, jab chidiya chug gayi khet.’
I get it Mum, I do!
10 July 2013.
Dear World,
I get it. I messed up. Now will you please stop making me feel this small?
World peace and warm regards,
Kasturi
15 July 2013, 10.00 p.m.
I had been dreading this call. Since the day I left him waiting for me at TGIF, Rajeev has sent me many emails. Overtaken by events, I had not had a chance to reply.
Till last night.
I needed closure and I knew, even though I had not spoken to Rajeev in years, that he did too. There was a time, however brief, when he and I had connected at a very deep level. We did not realize it then but I understand it better now. Though we parted ways in the ugliest manner possible, I know I loved him then just as I know now that he needs closure to move on. Just as I know I do too.
I emailed him saying that I would like to speak to him. He gave me his number and that is what I dialled now.
‘Hi,’ I said, surprised at how nervous I felt.
‘Kasturi!’ he gushed.
It was odd to hear his voice. Some part of me immediately recognized it as a voice that, at one point in time, had been my most favourite sound in the world.
‘I’m sorry, Rajeev, for not turning up that day.’
‘It’s okay. I’ve done worse by you. I don’t think I have any right to complain,’ he said. His voice was heavier than I remembered; more mature, with a warmer ring to it.
