27. Aisha Paul

It was a great day, wasn't it! Yes, of course it was.

  The picture Vibhor uploaded of him and me that morning already had seventy-two likes. People were congratulating us for looking good together. Because that's what matters—looking good together. He was so kind to do that, parade me as his girl in front of the entire school, branding me like a cow, shouting to the world that he was now officially off the market. He was committed. The bad boy had settled down and I was the one who'd managed to make him do that.

  That's got to count for something. I spent the last evening with Vibhor Rana, captain of the football team. My brother vouched for him when I told my mother about the impending date. She frowned, complained, asked a gazillion questions about him, his family, his interest in academics, talked to him on the phone, and then finally let me go.

  How was it? Well, it was different from what I had learned from my practice date with Danish.

  'You're late,' Danish said as I knocked and entered his room. He looked like he hadn't slept in a while, a little haggard, and a bit angry.

  'Vibhor caught me in the corridor. Sorry,' I said.

  'Oh yes. Big date yesterday? What did you do? Was it fun?' he asked.

  'It was great! What did you do last night? You seem like you didn't sleep.'

  'I just went out with my brother on a double date.'

  'Great.' Words dried up in my mouth immediately. Someone had fun, like I did, and I wasn't happy about it. I continued, 'He took me to this really nice terrace restaurant. It was beautiful.'

  Danish asked me, 'So did my training date help?'

  'Yes, most certainly. Thanks,' I lied.

  I was glad I wasn't dating Danish. He knew nothing about dating.

  *

  Last night, Vibhor picked me up in his dad's Skoda Superb and we drove to Hauz Khas Village while he blasted his favourite songs, and told me how pretty I looked. He had dressed up for the date. He looked gorgeous, almost like a movie star in his crisp white shirt, which strained against his veiny forearms, blue trousers and light brown Oxford shoes, a sharp contrast to my pyjamas. I had thought from my practice date that it was okay to go to a date in pyjamas. But Vibhor stopped at a mall near my house and bought me a beautiful yellow dress, saying it was more appropriate. He couldn't take his eyes off me when I emerged out of the changing room and even winked at me when I twirled in my new, little yellow dress. I blushed so hard it felt I would melt into a little puddle.

  'See, so much better. We will steal the show,' said Vibhor. 'No one's going to look at anyone else today.'

  'Are you sure we aren't dressing up too much?'

  'This is Delhi.'

  We left the mall and resumed our drive, his hand constantly on my right 

thigh, giving me goose bumps all over my body. No one had ever touched me like that before.

  'Can I ask you something?'

  'Sure, Aisha.'

  'Vibhor? How did my brother react when you told him about us?'

  'He didn't. He was pretty chilled about it. We have known each other for years now.'

  'Okay.'

  'You seem disappointed. Isn't that a good thing?'

  'Yes, it is but—'

  'Damn! Look at that car,' he said and pointed to a red Gallardo at a distance. 'I asked one from Dad but he said it will be an open invitation for the tax guys to mount a raid.'

  Vibhor even brought a gift for me, a perfume. The price tag was cut out but later I Googled and found it was quite expensive. It was so sweet of him; he really knew how to be with a girl. He then held my hand during the entire drive, my clammy, sweaty, nervous hands, and never complained once. Sometimes, he would drive with his eyes on me, glittering in the reflection of my yellow dress, tell me how great I looked, and it would totally freak me out. He was a bad-ass in a traffic violation sort of way. Megha would have really liked him. The restaurant was beautiful and despite my feeble disapproval, he bought me a large cocktail which was so pretty and colourful and fruity that I couldn't help but taste it. It was very alcoholic too and I almost spat it back into the glass. He goaded me into having another sip, and then another one, and I finished the drink. I was then what I guessed people call 'tipsy'. He ordered my food as well. I really wanted to have biryani but he wanted to share food so we ordered for a pasta for me instead. He told me again that I looked pretty.

  'She will have another one,' he said.

  'No, I won't,' I said. The tipsy feeling had given way to a slight nausea and it was getting worse. But he remained adamant and another tall drink came flying to our table. Luckily, a little later he went to the washroom and I drained the glass into a flower pot. 'It was the last drink I am having today! I think I'm totally sloshed,' I said brightly when he came back.

You don't look sloshed. You must have an amazing capacity.'

  'I come from a family of alcoholics.'

  He took it seriously and said, 'That's so cool. Usually girls are so drunk after just one drink. But you're quite something. I like you.'

  His words went like a bolt through my body. This time he sat a lot closer to me, his muscled shoulder rubbing against mine. God. I have to admit I did feel a little tingly. This was the farthest I had gone with any guy. A shoulder rub and a hand on my thigh. Namrata would have to know about this, I thought.

  'I always noticed you,' he said, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear.

  'Then why didn't you ever talk to me?'

  'I always thought you had a boyfriend. Do you always go on dates in pyjamas?'

  'If I can help it. They are super comfortable.'

  'So who was the last guy you dated?'

  'An older guy. Quite older,' I said, imagining Danish.

  'Must be a bore,' he snapped immediately.

  'Ummm . . . he didn't ask me to drink.'

  'Bleh.'

  I got to know during the course of the night that he was the only son of parents who ran the biggest floor tile manufacturing unit in all of north India. Also, he had an extensive knowledge of all the newest clubs in Delhi, the wine shops that are open till three in the morning, and he gushed about this one time a young Bollywood starlet was hitting on him.

  'So . . . that boring, old guy and you? Were you guys serious or was it just a fling?'

  'He was important to me,' I said.

  'Did you do stuff? Like you know?'

  'Yes, it was fun,' I said, still thinking about Danish.

  Since that day, I had spent innumerable hours trying the perfect combo hits of Katarina on my desktop. Next time, Danish would have a tough time getting a decent punch in. I would go all Rounda Rousey on him before he could say K.O.

  'So you have had sex before? Ummm . . . with that guy?' he asked, his eyebrows burrowing.

  'Ummm . . . do you need to know that?' I asked, a little embarrassed.

  'Yes, I think I do,' he said. 'If we are dating I think we need to be honest with each other. You can always ask me whatever you feel like.'

  Fair point.

  'No. I didn't have sex with that guy. Now should we exchange our Facebook passwords as well?'

  'Let's have some boundaries, okay? Checking Facebook is so last decade. I'm sure you and that old guy did it. Didn't you?' he chuckled.

  'Why don't you try stand-up comedy? You're funny.'

  'Hmm . . . I will think about it,' he said and put his arm around me. I felt the hair stand on my arms, and my body suddenly felt warm.

  'You? Have you had sex before?' I asked.

  'Of course I have.'

  'With?'

  'Been with a few girls here and there. A girl from Ramjas, someone from Springdales, another one from Delhi Public School. A couple of other girls I think.'

  'You liked them?'

  'Yes, a bit. But I like you more. You're amazing,' he said and kissed me on my cheek as I burnt with the warmth. He pulled me closer and nuzzled my neck. It felt fantastic. I giggled.

  'Do they have names?'

  'Their names aren't important any more. I told you already I like you more. They are history. Now don't be jealous.' He winked at me.

  I felt a little bad for those girls. I knew their secret but didn't know their names. I didn't prod him further.

  'Did you love them?' I asked. Vibhor was too busy kissing my neck to answer my question. 'Did you love them, Vibhor?'

  'Naah, they were whatever. I'm done with them.'

  He said while nibbling at my ear (and the nibbles were making me lose my shit—who knew teeth and earlobes can give someone so much pleasure?). I swayed out of the path of his jaws and asked, 'Do you want to do something else?'

  'What? It's fun here.'

  'Can we play video games?'

  'What? Why? Who does that?'

  He started necking me again. Now I was confused. He made me change out of my pyjamas and now he didn't want to play video games with me. My training date wasn't helping at all. It seemed like dating meant being nibbled on, and I would have to admit it felt wonderful.

  I pushed a slobbering Vibhor away. 'People are looking!'

  'You're hot. Why shouldn't they? Come here,' he said and grabbed me playfully.

  'Let's go somewhere else?' I said and waved for the cheque.

  Just before leaving, he ordered another drink and gulped it down in one go. He paid the cheque and we were back on the road again. His hand was on my thigh, rubbing it slightly, giving me little brain aneurysms. He looked rather handsome, and a part of me wanted to kiss him long and hard.

  Soon, we left civilization behind and he parked the car in an empty parking lot of what seemed like a construction site.

  'Is this better?' he asked.

  'For what?' I asked.

  'You will see,' he said and smiled.

  He unbuckled his seat belt, bent over to my side, then slyly pushed the lever of my seat, which in turn pushed down the backrest in a flat position, and just like that he was on top of me. He pushed my hair away from my face and his lips hovered over mine. His breath smelled of alcohol but I wasn't sure any more if I wanted to kiss him because I was more scared than turned on. He came close and before I could say anything he jerked back and stumbled out of the car. I got out from the other side and found him on all fours, vomiting pasta. I said a little prayer and thanked God none of it was over me. Fifteen minutes later, we were on our way back, staring at the road wordlessly. He smelled of bile and vomit.

  'Are you going to be okay?'

  'Yes,' he said, burping. 'I didn't eat anything since the morning. So . . .'

  He dropped me home and drove away, knackered.

  Namrata had called me later that night once I was tucked into bed. 'How did it go? Did something happen? You kissed him?'

  'I wanted to.'

  'And you didn't? Chickened out?'

  'No. He was nice. And so gorgeous. But I snapped out of it. I got a little confused.'

  'So you're not going to see him again?'

  'Of course, I will see him. He was nice to me most of the time. I still want to kiss him, I guess.'

  'Make up your mind, girl.'

  'I'm trying,' I said. 'Oh, I totally forgot. What about you and Norbu?'

  'I can't tell you.'

  'Is that the code for ask me again?'

  'Okay, fine, I will tell you. I didn't give him a blowjob but something else happened and it was OUT. OF. THIS. WORLD.'

  'What happened?'

  'He went down on me.'

  'He did what? Wait . . . Shit. Did he?'

  'He totally did. It was like he was looking for a treasure down there. Well, to think of it, it was like a treasure hunt because he didn't know where to look for it for the longest time. But it was the most amazing thing ever. Do you know what he was digging with?'

  'Please, no—'

  'With—'

  'Please, no—'

  'His tongue!'

  'Don't give me details, Namrata.'

  She laughed. 'I came about thrice and I slept. He was so scared before he started. He asked me about a dozen times before he started.'

  'Stop laughing. Poor Norbu,' I said and she laughed.

  'He was so tired, he couldn't even talk. So much for the tongue being the strongest muscle in the body!'

  'So unfair!'

  'Oh c'mon. I will make it up to him the next time around. I'm practising it in my head already.'

  'Okay enough, I need to sleep now and I don't want images of your lips arou 

nd Norbu's whatever. Goodnight.'

  'Goodnight. And hey, drink a lot of water before you sleep or you will wake up like a shrunken raisin.'

  'Goodnight.'

  I disconnected the call and I texted Vibhor.

  AISHA: Reached home?

  VIBHOR: Yes, just got in bed. I think I'm missing you.

  AISHA: Ditto.

  VIBHOR: Sorry for the puking thing.

  AISHA: Hmmmm . . .

  VIBHOR: I messed up our kiss.

  AISHA: I would have still kissed you after you puked.

  VIBHOR: Despite being potty-mouthed?

  AISHA: Yes. If you would have asked I would have.

  VIBHOR: Damn.

  AISHA: But I wouldn't have kissed before you puked.

  VIBHOR: Why?

  AISHA: You didn't ask whether you could kiss me.

  VIBHOR: I assumed . . .

  AISHA: Hmm. ☹ ☹ You shouldn't have. I was scared.

  VIBHOR: I will ask the next time.

  AISHA: Sweet.

  VIBHOR: You're hot.

  AISHA: You're nice.

  VIBHOR: Do you sleep naked?

  AISHA: Always.

  VIBHOR: Damn.

  AISHA: Do you?

  VIBHOR: Yes. Always.

  AISHA: Damn.

  I imagined Vibhor naked and looking for treasures between my thighs, got off in like a few seconds and slept like a baby.