She perched excitedly on the corner of the bed and squealed. I pulled up a chair and sat opposite her.
“It has been so long” She sighed “Tell me, tell me, what happened?”
“Um..”, I paused, unsure of how to begin.
“Well, we met at college.”
“How?” she asked.
“Well, technically, I saw her, she didn’t see me. She was haggling at the mess over the quality of the sambar. She kept yelling at the server. Saying what kind of crap this was and whatnot. She was all flushed and animated, you know. She kept pointing to the big vessel and gesturing wildly. The whole college could hear her.” I smiled in reminiscence.
“What did she say?” she giggled.
“What is this?” I mimicked in her high pitched voice.
“This is colored water. No, no, no. This is worse than colored water. I wouldn’t wish this even upon my worst enemy. And you call yourself a cook! Do you even know how to cook? They don’t feed this even to animals.”
“Then what happened?”
“The cook didn’t like it. He was looking at her menacingly. I don’t think she cared about that. She just went on like she hadn’t noticed. A crowd had gathered around them by then, and I thought the cook was seriously going to do something.”
“Then she said something, I couldn’t hear what, and the cook went suddenly red in the face. He had uncrossed his arms and had raised his arm as if to slap her.”
“And then?” she whispered.
“And then.” I paused for some dramatic effect “I came in between them.”
“So you took a slap for her. How romantic!” She smirked.
“No.” I said firmly, dispelling her illusions. “I stopped the cook’s hand.”
“That is even more romantic!” she squealed “That’s like you being her knight in shining armor.”
I looked at her skeptically. Then I looked at myself. Then I looked at her again.
“Okay.” She laughed “Maybe not in the literal sense. But come on, isn’t that just a little bit heroic?.”
“Hear the whole thing.”
“Okay”
“I gently goaded her outside the canteen. Then I tried to reason with the cook.”
“He listened to you?” she asked incredulously.
“No. I had to give him 200.”
She laughed. It wasn’t funny in the least. I had to let go of my lunch money for 2 weeks.
“Okay, okay.” She said between gasps. “What happened later?”
And I told her. I told her about how I caught her angrily stalking away from the canteen. How I caught up with her. How I tried to calm her down. How I tried to explain that canteen wasn’t a five-star hotel. How she grudgingly accepted my point. How I had to treat her to lunch at the nearby pani puri stall(one month of fasting). How she reacted when she tasted the first batch of Bhai’s special spicy mix. How she gasped for water. How I handed her an empty jug for fun, and how she threw the same jug at my head. How she thanked me. Her parting smile as I wondered if I would ever see her again.
“Did you?” she asked
“I did. She was in my class. We talked.”
And I told her about how we talked about the subject. How we talked about the teacher who knew nothing. About the teacher’s broken English. About his after college life. About the canteen. And yes, about the horrible sambhar. About the exchange of numbers. About the initial, hesitant texts. About the texts that followed. About the late-night chats. About the calls. About friendship. About the first date. About the second date. And then about all the dates. Up till the one date where I proposed.
“Oooo. Do tell.”
“Well. It was for one year. So I decided that it should be special. So I reserved a table at a pretty romantic restaurant. I had paid the band to perform her favorite song and had arranged for a chocolate cake to be brought over. The night started well. I picked her up from her house. She looked beautiful in the green dress. We were laughing and talking and dining. Then the time came. The band started up their song. I could see her eyes widen in surprise as she recognized the song. She looked at me suspiciously. I gave her a wink and motioned for the waiter to come forward with the cake. And then it was perfect. The moment. The whole restaurant standing up. Me on one knee.
The cake in front of her. An expression of pure delight on her face. Chants of ‘Say yes!’, ’Say yes!’ all around. And…..”
“And?” she said quietly, he eyes wide with excitement.
“She said yes.” I said.
She screamed with delight and jumped up, fist pumping the air. Then she came and hugged me, swept me off my feet. Did a little jig around the room, and came back and sat on the bed again.
“What happened after that?”
“I’ll tell you tomorrow.” I said, getting up.
“Come tomorrow, okay?” she said.
I nodded and smiled. I stepped out of the room and closed the door.
After that. We got in our car. Happy. Engaged. Soon to be married. Successful. The driving. The black car. The screeching. The turn. The impact. The feeling of flying. The world going round and round. Finally stopping. The blackness. The green dress stained with red. The shrill whistle of the ambulance.
I looked at my ring.
How could I tell her that she was the one?