Chapter 25

Shiv sat in the café, thinking about whether he’d met anyone with a more intense life story than Imlie. He wondered if he’d done the right thing asking her about it, but he knew he’d done the right thing just listening and not trying to offer any advice…

An hour before Aryan’s call to Imlie’s phone:

Shiv came back to their table, holding two more cups of chai.

The two of them had managed to spend the past half hour talking about everything from Priya’s film career, to Imlie’s favorite classes, and Shiv’s most embarrassing moments adjusting to American culture during his time in law school.

He sat down and pushed one cup across the table towards Imlie, she picked it up.

“So, do you think we have time for your long, winding life story now?” Shiv asked. He looked at her, he’d kept the question light, but he worried he’d destroyed the mood, he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable, she was the easily the most interesting friend he’d made in a long time.

Imlie looked at him, a little shocked, but then memories of the past year of her life flooded through her mind. She didn’t know if it was worth telling, or even if it was a good idea for her to share it.

Shiv backtracked, “If you don’t want to, that’s fine. We can keep talking about how I had no idea what people were talking about when they talked about TV shows in the US…” He trailed off, hopeful that whatever she said next, it just wouldn’t be an end to their conversation.

Imlie shook her head, smiling, “No, it’s not that I don’t want to share, it’s just…is it worth it? It’s not that interesting of a story.”

Shiv leaned forward in his seat, “I’m sure it’s a lot of things: sad, funny, stressful. But I definitely say, it’s interesting. Now sharing it might or might not be worth it, but I can tell you that I want to hear it, if that helps?”

Imlie ran her finger around the edge of her cup of chai, then picked it up in both her hands, feeling the warmth and willing it to move from her hands up her arms, and through her whole body. She looked outside the window, the clouds were clear today, it wasn’t going to rain like it did yesterday.

Shiv cleared his throat, “I guess we’re going to talk about the key TV shows Americans expect everyone know about—“

Imlie interrupted him, “Do you like the rain?”

Shiv could tell the question had a weight behind it, no matter how lightly Imlie had posed it. “The rain? Yes, I like rain.”

Imlie smiled, not at Shiv, but past him. “I used to love the rain. Then the rain betrayed me. That’s a good way to start the story, I think. I mean every novel I’ve read always has a hook right?”

Shiv caught Imlie’s gaze, “Yea, it sounds like an interesting beginning. How did the rain betray you?”

Imlie’s smile faded, “It decided to steal my future one day…”

Imlie started, and as she kept going, she found it was impossible to stop. She told Shiv about meeting Aditya for the first time in Pagdandia, about saving him, about touring him around Pagdandia, about getting caught in the rain, about the next day. She told him every little horrible thing Aditya said and did over the next few weeks. She laughed as she recounted how she fell in love with each and every member of the Tripathi family. How she witnessed Aditya marry Malini, about how Imlie gave Malini her chunni, her sindoor, and her husband. She talked about how Aditya kept pulling her back to Delhi, though she’d tried to live forever in Pagdandia. She cried as she recounted meeting her biological father for the first time, Dev, and how she refused to take his help or his name. She recounted the tragic love story between her and Aditya, how she begged him not to leave Malini, how she tried her hardest to stop herself from loving him. She told him about Malini’s betrayal, of her and Aditya. She almost had to stop talking when she remembered what happened to Dadda, but she pushed forward. She talked about meeting Aryan, laughing as she remembered literally running into him three times in the same day. She talked about meeting Arpita Didi and Kaki Maa. She talked about the pain of falling out of love with the one person you thought you could trust above everyone else. She laughed again as she shared her favorite bits and pieces about her relationship with Anu Chaturvedi, Malini’s cruel and above all, stupid, mother. She smiled, as she ended the story, with her most recent trip to Pagdandia, and how finally, the women there had decided to fight against and end the horrific tradition of forced marriage. She talked about finally driving Malini away from her family, and finding the courage to choose herself over Aditya.

Imlie met Shiv’s gaze again, “…and now everything is going to be fine, as long as I focus on myself. As one of this country’s great Bollywood characters once said, “Main apni favorite hun.” (I’m my favorite. [a line from Kareena Kapoor’s character in Jab Wet Met, Geet])

Shiv looked at Imlie, and then down at his cup of chai. He picked it up, it was cold now, but he felt he needed a sip of something to ground himself after that.

Imlie laughed nervously, “Wow, I didn’t realize my story was capable of putting people into shock.”

Shiv swallowed the cold chai, “No. No. I’m not…ok fine, it is shocking. But I honestly, I don’t know what to say.”

Imlie laughed harder, “Honestly, there were so many times this past year, where I genuinely had no idea if what was happening was real life or perhaps I had been transported into someone’s sick idea of a TV show. Har din ek naya drama, it was hard to keep up.” (Every day a new drama).

Shiv started laughing too.

Imlie looked at him, and laughed harder, “I’m laughing because I think my body’s unable to cry anymore. Why are you laughing?”

Shiv shook his head, trying to stop his laughter, “I’m just imagining, what did you say her name was, oh right, Anu Chaturvedi, your English Madam, I’m imagining her in prison right now, plotting her next chance at revenge against you,” Shiv laughed harder, “and it’s a hilarious image.”

Imlie laughed louder, “She was truly the worst, but also, her comedic timing, priceless. I have to hand it to her.”

The laughter died down, and Shiv broke the silence, “I know most of the past year has been stressful. You’ve seen more pain in one year than most people see in their whole lives. But, I genuinely think you should commend yourself, for finding a way out, for finding a way through.”

Imlie nodded, her gaze moving from Shiv to the window, “I did what so many people who have faith in Sita Maiya do, I assumed everything was a gift from her, the happiness and the pain. But sometimes,” Imlie looked back at Shiv, “I thought to myself, ‘Why should I? Why should I take the pain, the injustice, as a gift? Everyone nowadays gets gift receipts with their presents, so they can just return what they don’t like. I think, even pain should come with a gift receipt.”

Shiv smiled, “Listen, I’m not the person to talk to if you’re going through a crisis in faith. But, I will say, I think you have to remember that it’s not just your Sita Maiya, or your family, or your friends,” Shiv pointed to himself with both his thumbs and winked, “who are standing with you when you’re going through pain. But you’re standing for yourself too. I think the reason you’re sitting in front of me right now, the main reason you’re making it through college, managing a difficult job, fulfilling your and your mother’s dreams — is because you’re enough.”

Imlie put on a mocked impressed face, “Wow. I think you should give up your law degree and go into motivational speaking. Kya baat hai!”

Shiv laughed, “Sorry, I got a bit cheesy there at the end.”

Imlie laughed, “Not at all, I was just thinking, you sounded a lot like ABP, I mean Aryan, right then.”

Shiv made a sour face, “Now I don’t know what I did to deserve that insult.” He laughed, “I’m joking…mostly.”

Imlie smiled, “I know what you mean, sometimes Aryan’s the most frustrating person in the world. Sometimes you leave a conversation with him thinking, ‘I have no idea what he just said, but I feel insulted,’ but at the end of the day,” Imlie thought back to all the times Aryan had stood with her, behind her, and up for her, “at the end of the day, he’s the best friend anyone could ask for.”

Shiv asked, “I’ll take your word for it. It sounded like it was hard to convince him to be your friend.”

Imlie pondered this, and how Aryan told her what felt like every day that they weren’t friends, “It was hard. But I think Kaki Maa is right about him, he only looks like the grumpiest man alive,” she leaned forward across the table and pretended to be sharing some big secret, “I’ve actually seen him laugh and smile, it’s a rare sight, but it’s beautiful when it happens.”

Shiv smiled. He thought about how lucky Aryan Singh Rathore was, and how lucky everyone in Imlie’s life was, because it wasn’t just her laugh that was infectious, it was her ability to relate to anyone and everyone, her willingness to empathize with everyone but never pity them. If Shiv considered himself a creative type, he’d come up with a metaphor about Imlie being like a rising sun, reliable and powerful, but most of all beautiful. But Shiv knew he wasn’t that creative, and he wouldn’t risk making Imlie awkward by trying to make that comparison out loud.

Imlie pulled Shiv out of his thoughts, “Kya hua? Kya tum abhi bhi Aryan kee muskaan ke baare mein soch rahe ho?” She laughed and added, “I know I described it as beautiful, but if you keep thinking about it, the person sitting in front of you might start getting jealous.” (What happened. Are you still thinking about Aryan’s smile?)

Shiv smiled, “No, though Mr. Rathore’s smile does sound like a delight to be able to witness, I was thinking about how I need to figure out what vitamins or supplements you take.”

Imlie looked confused, “Vitamins? What?”

Shiv laughed, “That’s my cheesy way of saying you have the strength to handle way more bullshit than anyone I know does, and I’m a lawyer, I handle bullshit on a daily basis.”

Imlie gave Shiv a mischievous smile, “You know, I think in Pagdandia, I knew that the cow dung on our walls was actually useful, but here in Delhi, you can’t even use the bullshit for fuel. It’s very sad.”

Shiv laughed and nodded seriously, “Truly a pity.”

Imlie stood up, “I’m going to use the restroom, want to order another chai? I think now it’s time for you to come up with some horribly depressing stories to tell me about your life.”

“Of course, I don’t know if my story telling skills are as good as yours, but I am happy to try.”

Imlie walked away to the cafe restroom, and before Shiv could get up, Imlie’s phone rang.

Shiv was pulled out of his thoughts about Imlie by a barista tapping him on the shoulder asking, “Sir, did you want anything else?”

Shiv shook his head, “No, thank you.” He stood up, left a tip, and made his way to his car outside. Shiv knew that Imlie, somewhere deep down, needed to tell her story in full to someone. He didn’t know if Aryan, or if anyone else in her life had heard it; regardless of whether anyone else had heard it, he was grateful that Imlie had trusted him with it. He’d only known Imlie for a few days, but after today, working with her and just chatting with her about anything and everything, it felt like he was reconnecting with an old friend after years.