Lila always thought of Cafe Mondegar in Colaba as the closest that a place would come to Rick's in Casablanca. Time seemed to slow down when you entered - the world was a happier place. The little cartoons on the wall, the music that was neither excessively happy or too mellow, the beer that had a self-assured bitterness and the food that skimmed the boundaries of inventiveness without ever overstepping them attracted an exciting, diverse crowd.
Vinod, upholding family values and traditions, reached obscenely early. He settled down on a table from where he could see the road, so that he could look nervously at each arriving taxi. All kinds of people arrived. A foreigner couple got off first, but they'd integrated so well with the atmosphere around them, that the term 'foreigner' was a misnomer. An NRI with his forced casualness and Bisleri bottle looked more foreign than them. They were followed by two guys wearing more gold on them than there was in the whole of Jodha Akbar, with 'cooling'-glasses and two of their shirt buttons undone - they must've been extras on one of Ran Gopal Varma's gangster movies. A young couple, the girl in school uniform, walked in after that, followed almost immediately by two fairly large groups of noisy college students. Vinod guessed these were from 'degree' colleges - there were too many women for them to be engineering students.
One mug of beer disappeared, and made way for the second.
The two men from the Ram Gopal Varma gangster films played their roles to perfection - they spoke in hushed tones and occasionally erupted into volcanoes of laughter. The college students were playing some form of truth and dare, Vinod surmised. Nothing else could explain one girl biting another girl's ear followed by ooh-ing and excitement. The young couple disappeared into the room inside, but Vinod, from experience made fairly accurate guesses of what they were up to. The foreigners were having a very intense discussion.
A third glass of beer appeared. It was seven. Lila and Sharma would arrive soon. Just then, another guy entered - he looked very much like a baby who'd never grown up. When Vinod saw this guy, he felt an inexplicable urge to punch him in the face. The baby-faced guy scanned the area for a while, and then went to the room inside, and came out again, and left. In fifteen minutes, he came back, repeated his routine and left.
They were very late. At least by Vinod's standards.
***
"Do you remember the first time we had a real conversation?"
"At Mondy's?" she asked.
"Yeah."
"Was that really a conversation?"
"Yeah, you're right, we were both too drunk to make any sense."
"Man, that was nearly two years ago. I cant imagine that we'd've ever had such a major romance!"
"Why? I saw the signs on that day itself," Vinod insisted.
"What rot! You behaved like an idiot."
***
Vinod had now gone over the instructions from his Inner Voice at least a hundred times. Do not crack jokes. You don't have a sense of humour. Do not adjust your hair the first time you see her. Do not stare. Do not tell her about your dream of owning a pet snake. Do not tell her about the next-door-newly-divorced aunty you used to dream about when you were fourteen. Do not tell her that she's beautiful. Most importantly, do not get drunk.
The fifth beer made its appearance, as the baby-faced man walked in and out again. Just as he left, a taxi stopped at the entrance, and preceded by a lit cigarette, Lila got out.
***
"When you saw me, you had this ridiculous expression on your face - your nervous smile - the one where you look like you have bubonic plague."
"I was going for my calm and composed expression."
"But you were burning from the inside."
"I didn't know whether to laugh or cry at my fate."
"Why?"
"I assumed Sharma was late, and so I thought I had ten minutes or so with you alone - now that's a plus, definitely. But, I could have made a complete dolt of myself in those ten minutes..."
"Which you did."
"No!"
"Yes. I remember you said something like, 'I didn't think you could look prettier in real life than on TV.'"
"No!"
"Yes. And when I didn't look too comfortable with the comment, you said, 'Excuse me for discrepancies. I'm drunk.'"
***
"Discrepancies?"
"Determinants... De... What's that word? Demystification. Demur. What is that word?"
"What word?"
"Oh, forget it. I'm just drunk. Where's Sherman?"
"He just called me to tell me that he isn't coming."
"Yeah! Wo-w-wonderful!"
"Excuse me?"
"Uh, um, y-y-eah, um, I'm just drunk!" Vinod realised that his greatest fears were coming true. He looked like a drunk womaniser. Just then the baby-faced guy walked in again.
"That guy's been coming in, looking around and leaving every ten minutes for about an hour now."
"Who?" When she turned around and saw Sen, she hid her face.
***
"I still cant believe Sen did what he did!"
"What'd he do?"
"You know, he overheard me talk on the phone to Sharma, which is why he landed up at Mondy's."
"What?!"
***
Sen combed his hair for the thirty-third time, adjusted the curl in front to fall perfectly on his forehead, a la Razor Ramon on the WWF trump cards, and walked to his cupboard to fetch the deodorant. It was an important enough day for the Bvlgari perfume he had stacked away at the back of his cupboard, behind the clothes, along with the Dunhills he got from London.
He didn't want to risk the loss of his curl in a train ride, and decided to taxi it to Colaba. Someone had left a DVD on the back seat of the taxi. Sen picked it up and read, "Jab Ghar Pe Ho Saali, To Pura Saal Diwali". Hindi soft-porn! Sen had never seen DVDs of these films before! He asked the driver, "Yeh aapki hai?" The driver replied in the negative. Sen took the DVD out of its cover and put it in his pocket.
When he entered Mondy's, he saw a girl bite another's ear. The table erupted with hooting, laughter and applause. Just behind them, there were the customary foreigners, and to their right, the long haired man, who was either a musician or a photographer, and the two guys from a more high end version of Rangeela. Just beside the entrance though, at the table, this nervous guy sat - Sen was overwhelmed by an urge to hit the guy, although he didn't understand why. Maybe she was sitting in the room inside, Sen thought. When he entered that room, there was another case of ear-biting - a girl wearing a school uniform bit the ear of the boy sitting next to her. Sen wondered if it was Mike Tyson's birthday.
Assuming she was late, Sen left. He came back in fifteen minutes and re-scanned the area. Nothing had changed. Sen left. He came back a third time. Nothing changed. And a fourth time. And a fifth.
***
"That guy's really weird," said Vinod.
"I know."
"You know?"
"I met him this morning."
"Oh. But you know, he's walked in and walked out at least four times now. I think he's looking for someone."
"Goodness!"
Suddenly, a voice behind them said, "Hey!" and the source of the voice, the baby-faced man said, "Lila!"
"S-s-sen? Suri? Right?"
"Right! What a coincidence meeting you here!" said Sen in his most fake voice. It was like watching Salman Khan act.
"Dude, you've walked in and out, and in and out, and now you make this whole song-and-dance about bumping into her. We're not stupid, you know," said Vinod.
"Don't mind him. He's drunk," said Lila.
"That's right, I am."
"But he's a violent chap, is Vinod - my boyfriend," she declared.
"Boyfriend?" asked Vinod.
"He's really drunk!"
***
"My god, he really looked heartbroken when I told him you were my boyfriend!"
"You have no idea what I was going through!"
She laughed. Vinod laughed with her. Suddenly she said, "Man, we're drunk. That wasn't even funny."
"Yeah. But what he did after that to change topic was funny."
***
"Have you ever watched Hindi soft porn?" Sen asked.
"Some stuff used to come on Zee Cinema after midnight. And there was some really," Lila commented. Vinod and Sen were stunned. "So, you've watched Hindi soft porn?" Sen managed to stutter. "Yeah - I was writing a paper on 'Pornographic Depiction of Women: A Sociological Analysis of Art, Titillation and the Freedom of Expression'. So, I watched some of what I was to study."
"Is the paper remotely as erotic as it sounds?" asked Vinod, "Oh man, I'm drunk!" he added.
"Actually, I never finished it," Lila replied, as three beers made their way to the table.
"Lets down this stuff," she said. The beer went down parched gullets eagerly. Immediately, another round was asked for and downed. "Now tell me, why did you bring up Hindi soft porn?"
***
"Man, that DVD he showed us!"
"'Ghar pe saali, karo diwali'!"
"Something like that." More laughter. "God, we're drunk! That wasn't even funny."
***
"You bought this DVD?" asked Vinod.
"No, I found it in the taxi."
"What?!" asked Lila.
"Yeah. It was on the back seat."
"And you pocketed it," said Lila.
"Of course."
"And you weren't even drunk!" said Vinod.
***
"And then KC walked in! God!" said Vinod.
***
"God! KC!"
Lila wondered if Vinod used 'God' as a replacement for 'fuck', as a pretty girl turned towards their table.
***
"It was like the new and improved KC - she was still short, but she was prettier, had nicer hair, and wore very interesting clothes."
"Very interesting clothes."
***
"Subbu!" she exclaimed.
Vinod's face adopted the bubonic plague expression again.
"Hi! You're looking prettier than ever!"
"Subtle Subbu, eh? As always!"
"Drunk Subbu! God, I'm so drunk!"
KC looked at the table behind her, and whispered to Vinod, "Cute!"
"I know," Vinod whispered back loudly.
"You swing both ways, eh?"
"Eh?"
"I said the guy was cute."
"Oh... Well, he's the source of much misery now."
"Aww, shyadaap. He looks like such a kid!"
Even in his drunken state, Vinod assessed the situation perfectly. On the one hand was Lila, whom everyone seemed to love, and on the other hand was KC, the girl he once liked, way back in 1993, when they watched Mahabharat on TV on Sunday mornings - it was nostalgia, a rekindling of unrequited love. Vinod had to make a choice, between wistfulness and hopefulness, between love and remembrance, between childlike innocence and war-hardened-maturity, between a woman he will never get and a woman he never got.
***
"I could've made my exit, stage right, at that point - I could have walked away with KC to wherever she was going. I didn't know either of you at all. But I didn't. I thought there was more to transpire between us. This sudden feeling that one gets, especially when one is drunk - a feeling of anticipation, excitement..."
"...drunkenness. You're rambling. Get to the point."
"The point. The point is, I'm a little drunk!"
***
"Guys, this is KC. My cousin lived in the same apartments as her when I was a little kid. I used to go there in the holidays."
"And that's funny because, usually I know all kinds of people through my cousins!" KC added. Both Vinod and KC laughed.
Neither Sen nor Lila understood the convoluted way in which these two were friends, or what the joke was, or even why they were subjected to a random bombardment of fundae on unknown people, but nodded politely anyway. And then Vinod proceeded, "This is Lila, my..."
"Girlfriend," she said.
Vinod took some time to understand why she said that. "And this is another close friend..." Vinod had forgotten the name. "Dude, your name is?" he asked Sen in a loud whisper.
"Sen," he announced to KC, "This guy's drunk - this is the first time we're meeting each other. I don't even know his name."
"Vinod, meet Sen. Sen, meet Vinod," Lila said.
KC didn't know how to react. But before she could, Vinod said, "Listen, I need to discuss important matters with these two close friends. Gimme your number, I'll call you."
KC left wondering if Vinod was in the drug business and if these were his clients.
***
"You never called her, did you?"
"You know what she did? She told my cousin, who told my brother, who told my dad that I was in the drug business!"
"What?!"
"Yeah. But apparently, that was all a misunderstanding... I should call her then. Tomorrow. Definitely."
***
"So, that's your ex-girlfriend?" Lila asked.
"Nah. I liked her, and made it quite obvious to her, but she acted as if she never realised."
"So, have you had girlfriends before Lila?" Sen asked.
"Yeah. Two. One was a dancer in the movies - an extra of sorts. Apparently, she's getting a big role in a big movie shortly. The other lasted for four days."
"Why?"
"On the fourth day, I realised that she wasn't as smart as I thought she was, and she realised that I wasn't as cool as I thought she was. So, it ended."
"What about you?" Sen asked Lila.
"Why should I answer that question?"
"To foster the spirit of honesty and openness that prevails at this table."
"Okay. We're talking only boyfriends right, not, um, ah..."
"...romps? No." Vinod said.
"Romps?! Where are you from?"
"Hyderabad Public School," Vinod said.
"But yeah - excluding romps, and Sharma, only two of any consequence," she said, glancing furtively at Vinod. She didn't offer any more details, and she wasn't asked for any either.
"You?" Vinod asked Sen.
"Three. But all inconsequential. The first one was in the sixth standard. I still remember her fondly. The second one was in college - she was lovely, but there was this other guy whom I didn't really account for. And then there was this girl who turned out to be a guy."
Vinod and Lila had no intelligent response to that pronouncement. Sen, gulped down the beer and left without a word.
"Okay. Get me another beer," Lila said after a long silence.
***
Sen was devastated. Not only did Lila have a boyfriend, the guy was an alcoholic who couldn't hold his drink. He was boring, characterless, and didn't use conditioner. Compared to Sen's smartness, the curl that fell on his forehead, his biting sense of humour, his acute knowledge of the futures and options, this boyfriend of hers was most unlikable. Yet, she liked him, and not Sen. Sen took a taxi to Marine Drive and sat on the parapet, staring into the stinky Arabian Sea - the Sea that he couldn't see in the dark, only hear. The sea that roared like it hadn't in years, much like Sen's heart.
***
"Man, we got so drunk after he left!"
"As drunk as we are right now."
And they laughed again. Vinod was about to say something, when Lila stopped him with her hand on his lips. "Don't say it."
***
"Lets go have some Lard!" Vinod said.
"Some what?"
"Lard. Fruits Lard."
She looked at him blankly.
"Ok, there's this guy next to Gateway whose gaadi has the 'F-R-U-I-T-S L-A-R-D' written on it."
"What is that?"
"Pronounce it quickly."
"Fruitslard. Oh, fruitslard!"
And she laughed ceaselessly until they reached Gateway and finished their Lard. Suddenly she said, "Lard of the Flies!" and chortled even more. Vinod didn't get the joke, but laughed anyway.
They sat on the parapet, facing the sea.
***
She moved towards him and rested her head on his shoulders.
"This is exactly how you sat at Gateway that day. Your head on my shoulders, and your arms around me." He paused, and after much thought, as if he was choosing each word carefully, he said, "Often the proximity one remembers the most, and most fondly, is a hug. I had you there, Lila, in my arms, and I felt like the world around me had become irrelevant. Nothing mattered more to me than the hug. And I wanted that moment to last forever, that was exactly where and how I wanted to be for the rest of my life."
"Those are the worst lines a guy has ever said to me!"
But neither of them laughed. They remained in that hug, on Marina Beach in Madras this time, with the police, moral or otherwise, lurking around. They were in each others arms, as drunk as they were the previous time, and even more in love than they used to be.
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