As she hung up the phone with Abhimanyu, the quandary of emotions from the night before resurfaced. ere she was, snuggled in the same bed, her tiny body staring at a blank white ceiling, feeling light, an intangible, unidentifiable joy. And yet, before she could fully pinpoint its source or embrace the bliss, thoughts of Ayaan drowned her in an abyss of guilt.
She scanned the phone to find the last call received. She couldn’t do this. She would call Abhimanyu back and say, “Something urgent came up in Gurgaon and I need to take an earlier flight back.”
Just then, her phone rang. It was Jeeni, her only real friend – well, the only one that was not her mother.
“Hello, hello! How is the hustle and bustle of Delhi?”
“It’s amazing, but I am in Mumbai at the moment.”
“Oh yeah, for the Taj meeting! How did that go?”
“It went well – how is Ria? Is she over the teething? What’s her latest antic?”
On calls and in life, Aanya had become skilled at the art of deflection, diverting others toward their own lives instead of hers.
“She is fine, but I am tired of talking about her. Don’t get me wrong, you know I love my baby, but jeez, seems like that is all I ever talk about to anyone – babies and motherhood. I need real adult conversation, Aanya. Tell me about what’s going on with you. How was the Taj? Let me live vicariously, at least.”
“Exquisite, Jeeni, just jaw-dropping. When are you coming to visit? Did you look into your visa requirements?”
“No idea – can’t think beyond Ria and the day-to-day. You going to be in Mumbai for a while? I want to hear about what’s going on with you. It’s the same old here.”
Jeeni had long ago caught onto her friend’s nonchalance toward her own life.
“Well, okay. Here is something. The guy – I mean the executive – I met at the Taj yesterday just offered to show me around, but I don’t think it’s right.”
“Wait now, I will decide if it’s right. So let me ask the most important question: Is – he – cute?”
“He is, kind of – well, he is gorgeous actually, handsome and put together. You know, the whole package …”
Aanya imagined him smiling wide, looking luminous, perfect, in the grand lobby of the Taj. Oh gosh, I need to call him back to cancel.
“Wait, wait, wait. Did you just say he is ‘gorgeous, handsome, and put together’? Aanya Parekh, I haven’t heard you talk like that about a guy – or any man, for that matter – in, like, ever. Unless you have doubts it’s all a facade and he is really a serial killer, what’s not right?”
“Jeeni. He is not that. I just – I don’t – I just don’t think it’s right. Seems more than professional. You know, him showing me around. It’s a key would-be client, and I don’t want to risk the contract.”
There was a time when Aanya had had it all and was less uncertain about such matters. She was the master of her own domain, taking charge when she needed, no matter the situation. Over time, though, afraid that her past preempted her present, Aanya learned to take a back seat with social matters and a front seat professionally.
Now that these two worlds seemed to be colliding, she felt a pressing need to stop it before her present dragged her into the past.
“Okay, so let me get this straight. A gorgeous, hotshot executive from the Taj wants to show you around Mumbai, and you don’t want to go because you think it’s not right? Did I mention that this mom of a 16-month-old is living vicariously through you here? Pushing strollers through the suburbs of New Jersey –”
“Jeeni, stop. Your life is perfect and you know it – and you, more than anyone, know how complicated things are for me.”
“That is not the point, Aanya. You should go, period! Let’s face it – you moved halfway across the world to escape your past. I mean, we can pretend this is all about work – and it is. I am not undermining that. I would never – but it is also so much more than that. You need a fresh start, Aanya, and part of that means you can frolic around Mumbai with a guy who seems to be into you. Just have some fun, even if it’s only for a few hours.”
“I just don’t feel right. It’s not professional.”
“Oh God, spare me the bullshit, Aanya. There is no way to keep the professional and personal separate, not when it’s the only place left to meet people. If it hadn’t been for our workplace romance, I wouldn’t be married to Jai or have Ria. The rule is that there are no rules. Find love and romance where you can because they are rare – and really, Aanya, we all know what this is about. I am telling you, it’s okay for you to see – what’s this gorgeous guy’s name?”
“Abhimanyu – you can call him Abhi.”
“It is okay for you to see Abhi. What I was saying is that it’s okay for you to do this without feeling guilty about – Ayaan! Here, I said it, as straightforward as I can be. No beating around the bush and ignoring the elephant in the room, just the way you like it. Not everyone needs to know about your past, Aanya. You don’t need to talk about it – not unless you are ready, that is. Just have some fun. Now, go get your sorry behind up and put on that beautiful Aanya smile and go frolic around Mumbai, guilt-free – because if you don’t, I am calling your mother and telling her about your bullshit antics, not Ria’s.”
“Okay, okay. I will do it – and thanks, Jeeni.” Aanya sighed.
“That’s what I do – make sure people don’t do stupid things like pass up chances to hang out with gorgeous hotshot executives in exciting cities, while I master potty training. You’re welcome. Now, go get ready!”
Excerpted with permission from Anagram Destiny, Grishma Shah, Simon and Schuster India.
