Chapter 12: Pre-game Shawarma
Anuj had been AWOL since the brunch on Saturday morning. He didn’t pick up his phone or reply to any texts or emails or Facebook messages. He had finished a biryani in the afternoon, smoked his third fat joint for the day, put his entire music library on shuffle, and passed out. When he woke up at some point after sunset, the computer was playing Arctic Monkeys’ Dance Little Liar. He headed to shower.
Kartik was not really worried about Anuj not making it. As long as Seher and the new girl showed up, the show would still go on. On the other hand, if Anuj decided to make it and one of those two girls didn’t, that would make Kartik reconsider everything. He had just driven Anand’s car out of Anand and Veena’s building parking lot and was making a molehill of cigarette butts right outside the car. He was worried that they were going to be late. He was worried that Anjali would get bored at the party and leave even before him and the gang could get there. And then he would have to pretend to run into her some place else. He wasn’t even sure how long she was in town. What if he didn’t see her again for a few more years? He wondered if he was looking sane enough in his grey slimfit cotton shirt (rolled sleeves), slimfit black slacks and sharp black shoes (slip-ons). He had left his astrological ring back home (in his bag). That night, he was not going to care about the planets and what they thought.
As Veena put on a wide belt over her A-line skirt, she decided to give up on Anuj. She could see Anand in the mirror, standing behind her. She hadn’t stopped talking through the time it took for Anand and her to get dressed. If there was one thing that put Veena on the edge, it was plans not looking like they did on paper. If a plan had been made, you better fucking show up. Unless someone you loved met with an accident or died. Anand made her a vodka-cranberry as he ran every possible scenario that could play out if Anuj didn’t show up.
— “None of the scenarios seem to be working against us having fun. Tonight’s going to be perfect.”
— “Promise?”
— “Promise.” Anand dished out a sideward headnod, blinked both his eyes and clicked his tongue, all at the same time as he put the vodka cranberry on the dining table.
Seher had spent her evening writing. When she was a kid, someone had told her that whatever you did before you celebrated the new year, you’d be doing a lot more of that through the new year. She had picked a turquoise kurta (with some shimmies), black harem pants, shiny black flat shoes, silver earrings and a bag big enough to hold her phone, wallet and a hip flask. Then she had gotten stuck looking for a rickshaw.
When Seher had just moved in from Delhi, she had brought her family’s Santro with her. It was the smallest car her family owned. Six months in Bombay and she had sent it back in exasperation. She still hated not having a car. The gang was to meet at their favourite shawarma place before heading to the first party.
“We shall line our stomachs with some hummus and tahini and then proceed to drink our way into the new year. All aboard?” Veena had said before they had all gone their separate ways from the restobar the previous day. Stupid, stupid Veena. Seher could not get the thought of having dated only ISO 9000 rebels out of her head. In her head, she counted every relationship she had ever had, every one night stand and every friend-zoned guy. She went through every detail about each of them. She checked some of them on Facebook and Twitter. Some of them were engaged now. Some of them had gone straight-edge. The most horrifying of them all was the boy from 2010, the one she never thought would sell out. He was angry and vengeful and wanted to set the world on fire. Currently, his profile picture involved his beer belly floating in a jacuzzi, in an exotic tropical holiday location, with an arm around his wife who wore a choora and had her shower-capped head pressed against his manboob.
Avantika, meanwhile, had reached the shawarma place and was sipping on iced tea. (Not the one they made with actual tea leaves but the one where they put a tablespoonful of powder into cold water and kept stirring till it vanished.) Her hands looked for her usual ponytail, as she thought about how the night might go but then she got sidetracked thinking about how it would have gone if she had gone to that party in Madh. Her small leather bag (with a long strap) rested on the table as she whatsapped with Niyati, who was in Bangkok and raving about the fashion district and her inability to decide who was cuter: the DOP on the shoot or the model she was shooting with. Avantika wore a black dress, which ended a couple of inches above her knees. It had full length sleeves, a low back and a high front, and her hair was held tight above her head. While she had spent an appropriate amount of time getting dressed, it had never taken her as long to decide what bra to wear — the fuck-me or the you-wish. In her experience, while the fuck-me was only for the men, the you-wish drove even the women nuts.
— “New girl, I cannot believe you beat Kartik in being on time.” Anuj appeared out of nowhere, pulled a chair and called for a chicken shawarma. “I’m famished.”
— “Oh no, that totally was not my intention.” Avantika smiled because she was conditioned to smile when a certain amount of charm showed up in the tone of someone talking to her. “Kartik is coming with Veena and Anand. You know, if he was coming alone, he would have been here before me.”
— “So have you been on the screen yet? Or are you still a struggling actor?”
— “Both. I did a couple of TV commercials. The heroine in the ad advises me to use the right fairness cream.”
— “Never mention that to Seher.”
— “Yes, sir.” Avantika blew bubbles in her iced tea. “Tell me something, do you still like her?”
— “Straight to the point. No nonsense, huh?”
— “Mmhmm.” Avantika shrugged as the agreeing sound she made sounded more like someone had said a yes and dropped it off a cliff before anybody could hear it.
— “Seher and me are good.” Anuj started unwrapping his roll, which had just arrived.
— “Then why does everyone keep saying that you are still depressed?”
— “Some relationships make you ask a lot of questions. About who you are and where you are going. I got stuck in those and before I had any of the answers, we broke up.” The last six words of that answer were muddled in hummus, chicken and pita bread. “Tell me something where was the last time you had sex?”
Avantika’s head jerked backwards as her eyes widened. She smiled soon after (because she was reminded of Niyati’s shock and paw rule³²) and returned to playing with the bendable straw sticking out of her glass.
— “You know, I actually don’t read much. But I will get a copy of your book and read it.”
— “Thank you. That was a nice attempt but where was the last time you let some guy ejaculate in a latex bag?”
— “Where?” Avantika bought time to weigh the details in her head, erased some of them as her big black irises sank into her eyeliner.
— “Yes, where?”
— “In my bedroom.”
— “See, that wasn’t as tough. So which brand was the fairness cream?”
— “Why does it matter?”
— “You’re going to buy my book and read it and judge me. I have all the authority in the world to youtube your ad and judge you. That’s how friendship works.”
— “Tell me again how friendship works? And you started eating before all of us?” Veena walked in when she heard the last sentence Anuj said.
She tossed her bag on one of the chairs and grabbed Anuj by the back of his collar. Veena and Anuj would have never been friends if not for Seher. Initially, she had found him cocky, pretentious and utterly superficial. She was right. He did not care about pleasing anybody else other than Seher when he had newly become a part of the group. But by the time Veena and Anand moved in, Anuj and her had developed a close bond. Mostly over regulation of intoxicants (like the rule which said, “No cigarette while a joint is still making the rounds”) and Seher’s manic impulses.
— “Partying with friends. That’s how friendship works.” Anuj turned his head around to look for Anand and Kartik. “Where are the two musketeers?”
— “Trying to find a parking spot.” Veena pulled her phone out. “Seher hasn’t reached yet? Her phone’s ringing.”
— “Oh, by the way, Niyati says Hi to the both of you. She has asked me to send her a picture of us eating shawarma.”
— “Okay, Seher is not picking up. Why were you AWOL all day?”
— “I had not decided if I was going to ditch you guys or not.” Anuj picked on a piece of the vinegar soaked carrot.
— “And what made up your mind?” Veena picked a couple of his french fries.
— “The thought that you might actually strangle me in my sleep.” Anuj stuffed his mouth with what was the last of his roll. “And then I had a plot breakthrough.”
Kartik and Anand walked in and Anand slapped Anuj’s back, making him cough. Kartik smiled at Avantika, unlocked his phone to check time and locked it again. Anand sat down and waved at the waiter for five more rolls, one with extra pickle.
— “Good that you guys are here. I was just telling them about my plot breakthrough for the night.”
— “What breakthrough? Let me rephrase my question. How is your-” Kartik made air quotes. “-plot breakthrough going to affect me, Anuj?”
— “Don’t worry, I won’t kill myself till you fail.”
— “Kill what?” Veena stopped chewing.
— “You’ve done some theatre, right?” Anuj turned to Avantika.
– “For a little while after college. Haven’t done any in a really long time.”
— “WAIT.” Veena got up from her chair. “Kill WHAT?”
— “Great. So you’re my partner. I will die and you will create a ruckus. Or at times help me die. Or whatever it takes. We’ll just improvise. Is that cool with you?”
— “Anuj, stop playing games with me. What are you talking about?” Veena put her hand on Anuj’s wrist and pinned it down on the table.
— “Seeking attention.” Kartik mumbled and Anuj winked at him.
— “Will you calm the fuck down? It is just dying. Like…” He put his hand to his neck, pressed his thumb onto his adam’s apple and dropped his head to his chest before looking up again.
— “So you’re going to die like gang violence? You know I hate jokes about suicide.”
— “And rape and Salman Khan. We all know that.” Anuj pushed Veena to the point where her inner defensive matriarch stepped out.
— “Not like I disallow them, I just want you to tell me you’re making a joke. And if you’re going to die, I need to know what I am supposed to do. I mean, if one of my best friends is dead-”
— “If which of us is dead?” Seher interrupted Veena as their rolls arrived. “And did you ask for more pickles in mine?” Kartik passed her the one which had a ball pen stroke on the butter paper it was wrapped in.
— “Anuj is planning to die tonight and Avantika is going to help him.” Anand stuck a bunch of tissues into his maroon shirt (with wavy lines that bounced a little light) before he dug into his roll.
— “You mean like an improv exercise death? That sounds alright.” Seher found the thought of having an ex who walked around her and died at a party highly amusing. “Which party are you planning to do that?”
— “That’s the best part. All of them.” Anuj grinned like a two-year-old who had just discovered that his sippy cup had juice and not milk. Seher let out a ‘Ha!’ completely made of disbelief.
— “So that is our exit strategy for tonight?” Kartik double-wrapped his own roll to make it look like the roll was blooming out of a flower. “If anyone’s in trouble, Anuj dies?”
— “If I want to puke, Anuj dies?” Veena had been perpetually paranoid about puking at parties ever since she had painted someone’s bathroom floor two years ago with everything she had eaten all day.
— “Maybe.” Anuj lounged backwards onto his chair as its two front legs dangled in the air.
— “If I am about to get into a drunken brawl, Anuj dies?” Anand continued the game.
— “If anyone from my company’s cricket team shows up, Anuj dies?”
— “If I run into that girl I commissioned for a story but we didn’t run what she wrote and then she wouldn’t stop texting me?”
— “Anuj dies.”
— “If I spill something on my dress, Anuj dies?”
— “Not you, new girl. You’re helping me die, remember? You better bring your best form when you come to bat.”
— “Acchha, great idea. Now Mr Icchhaammrityu, can we finish our rolls? We have to get to a party before you actually can die.” Veena, finally having understood the deal, sank her teeth into her roll.
³² According to Actorography, in a scenario where a guy or a girl is talking to another guy or a girl, and throws in a question or a statement that would shock the other person, the intention is always to paw the other person later.
