“Tell us Imlie, have you ever been in love?”, asked Vivaan excitedly, hoping to get an insight on what the girl he liked thought about love.
Everybody watched as Imlie’s eyes lost a little bit of it’s sparkle, and how her smile turned sad. She looked at all of them, the group of people she had formed deep friendships with over the past five years, and saw how their expectant gazes turned confused at her reaction. These people were good people, these people were her real friends, they didn’t judge when she made a stupid decision, they helped her without asking for it, they laughed with her, they cried with her and they made her laugh when she cried even when they didn’t know the reason.
Her friends who she had met five years back, who were still her friends even after they had graduated and moved on from college, who all had jobs but still made her hang out with them whenever they had a free evening together.
She remembers the day she had left Delhi at her Dadda’s request. As soon as he had been released, he had started a new campaign, a campaign that directly affected the ruling party, which had then attacked Imlie for her Dadda’s actions. He had asked her to leave Delhi then, stay at Mumbai, away from the harm her connection with her Dadda could cause her. Away from the political alliances that had formed there against her Dadda.
She had been staying with the Rathore’s then, and they had bonded, so much that she didn’t want to leave. So much so that Aryan even offered a protection squad to keep her safe. But her Dadda was adamant. It was partially because he wanted his daughter safe physically, but it was also because he wanted his daughter to stay safe emotionally too, and that she wasn’t until she was in the proximity of the Tripathi’s.
And when her Amma had backed him, she really had no choice. She bid adieu to the Rathore’s and the Tripathi’s and left Delhi. At that time she had thought that the hole in her heart was because she was leaving her family behind, and while she missed them a lot, to the extent that she had weekly calls set up with the Rathore’s, she missed him more.
She missed Aryan more.
It was a slow process that led to her realisation. She lost contact with the Tripathi’s as soon as Malini gave birth. She didn’t even ask them if it was a boy or a girl. But the Rathore’s, they kept in touch. The video calls were the highlight of her week. What wasn’t was that Aryan came up less and less in them. She only ever saw him in the background.
She hadn’t minded at first, he was a busy man after all. But then she saw a gossip magazine and there he was, beside a headline that he was dating Shanaya Manya, an actual supermodel, and that made her burn. And while she didn’t ever see this person in any of her video calls, she never picked up another gossip magazine again.
That was the starter to a set of realisations. Prominent of all of them was how much she missed him.
She felt a push then, and turned to see Prachi was looking at her, expectantly, questioning.
Prachi was the first friend she had made in Mumbai. They were classmates in her new college. Then came Vivaan, who they met when they were performing together in a college function. Then finally Yuvraj, who had helped them setting up a stall in the college fest.
They were practically inseparable for the four years of college, and then when everyone had a job, they met like this, almost once a week.
Imlie smiled at them, and confessed, “Twice.”
Prachi looked at her in pride, Yuvraj looked amusingly shocked while Vivaan looked heart-breakingly shocked.
She laughed at their reaction. Prachi cupped her cheeks then, and squished her face, turning it left and right. Then she exclaimed, “You go girl!”
Yuvraj pushed her away from Imlie, and then asked, “So, tell us about them.”
Imlie smiled, reminiscing.
And then began her story, “So this is before the time I spoke english, so like a lifetime ago, and oh what a life it was. So, my first love, who was also my husband, Mr. Aditya Kumar Tripathi.”
Prachi, with widening eyes, asked, “You were married?”
Imlie chuckled bitterly, “Yes, at least in name.”
Vivaan asked then, hope bursting through his chest, “In name?”
Yuvraj smacked the back of his head and everyone laughed at that. Imlie sobered up then and continued, “We got married in extenuating circumstances, then he married someone else while being married to me. Then he left her because he loved me. Then he slept with her while drugged, and then he divorced me and then married her again because she got pregnant from the night they had sex, even after finding out it was her who drugged him.”
All of them were shocked. They looked at each and then at Imlie. Their expressions made their thoughts clear, and she voiced them too, “Yeah! I know, f*cked up.”
Prachi exclaimed, “Dude! That can’t be right.”
Imlie repeated, “That’s why it’s f*cked up.”
Yuvraj let out a startled laugh at her exclamation. She looked at them and laughed with all of them.
Prachi was the first to stop, shaking Imlie, “So who is the second one?”
Imlie got serious again, unsure how to describe Aryan.
She sighed and began again, “Well, the second one was someone who made me come out of the first one.”
Yuvraj shook his head then and interrupted her, “That’s so cliché.”
Imlie snorted at his interruption and continued, “I know. Seriously, he was so extra. Like, he never said what he wanted to say straight away. He pushed and pushed and pushed me when I didn’t perform the way he expected me to. He made me realise that whatever went on with Aditya Sir was not actually my fault. He gave me confidence and he gave me strength and he defended me, but he made me defend myself too.”
Vivaan was the one who interrupted her then, “And you fell in love with him.”
She huffed at his exclamation, “It was never that easy with him.”
“God, he irritated me. He was such an ass when we first met. Always questioning me. Always scolding me. But then I saved his sister, twice, and he didn’t stop scolding me, but it shifted from somewhere between the first time I saved his sister and the second time I did it. He made me realise the amount of power imbalance my first relationship had. And by the time I realised what I felt for him, it was too late. I had left Delhi and gradually lost contact with him.”, she ranted.
Prachi, who was listening to all this, asked, “Wait, is this the Aruu that is mentioned every single time in your phone calls with the Rathore’s?”
Imlie scoffed at her, she always knew that Prachi was listening in on those calls. She clarified then, in the sassiest tone ever, “His name’s Aryan.”
They all burst out laughing at that.
A second later, Yuvraj was asking her, “Wait, what do you mean perform?”
And Imlie confessed, almost nonchalantly, “He was my boss.”
Yuvraj scoffed then, “That’s another cliché.”
And Imlie was amused at his antics.
She turned her gaze from Yuvraj to Vivaan then, who looked all serious, and was looking at her with the same seriousness. She raised her eyebrows at him, and he asked, “You still love him?”
And Imlie felt her breath stop, it was like time stopped, and she didn’t know what to say. She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out.
But she didn’t need to say anything, because Vivaan sighed then, and said, “You know naa, an unaccomplished love is an immortal love. You Imlie, are a part of an immortal love now.”
And her breath left her for the second time. She looked as he got up and moved towards the balcony of her apartment, knowing he was about to smoke, and the friend in her wanted to follow him, but she could never be what he wanted from her.
Not while she was still stuck on Aryan.
So she was relieved when Yuvraj followed him. She was relieved when Prachi hugged her.
She was pleased that she got so lucky with these people.
She was glad to have them as friends.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Imlie couldn’t believe this was happening. She literally couldn’t believe this was happening.
Here she was, chilling in a bar, wearing a black dress which while full length, was sleeveless and hugged her body like a glove, her hair in a messy bun at the nape of her neck, heels high and pointy enough to stab someone and cause some serious damage, nursing a drink, hanging out with her friends.
Then she heard his voice.
She heard him calling out her name and she froze.
She saw her friends turn their curious gaze to the person calling her name.
She saw Yuvraj get up and call out sir and follow that with moving towards the person behind her.
She saw Prachi look at her and she saw Vivaan following Yuvraj.
She turned around then, looking at him.
He looked the same as he had five years ago, but also not. His hair was shorter, but he had been long overdue for a haircut when she had left. He was in a casual black shirt with grey pants and she realised that he had probably shed his vest and suit somewhere, having seen him like this before. His sleeves were rolled up, and he had a glass in his hand too. Whiskey, most probably. That was his drink of choice before. She had always thought that it suited him. His voice was, after all, what she imagined happened when whiskey passed through someone’s throat, intoxicating. That and sin. She thought his voice was Whiskey and Sin.
She saw Yuvraj introduce Vivaan and Prachi to him, him shaking their hand with that smile he reserved for his employees.
But then, then Yuvraj began introducing her, “And this is---”
But he was interrupted then, by the man himself, “Imlie.”
She hadn’t even realised she had brought her hand forward for a shake until he took it, his little smirk on his face.
And God how she had missed him. His smiles. His smirks. His touch, which she had just begun recognising only for it to be taken away from her. His gaze, which penetrated her but only brought relief in her. Him, who had made her feel things even when he wasn’t actually with her.
“I feel like there should be a song playing in the background, don’t you?”, exclaimed Prachi.
That brought her right out of it. Aryan was here. Aryan Singh Rathore was here. Aryan Singh Rathore was here and he was Yuvraj’s boss.
Wait. What.
She turned to look at Yuvraj who was looking at Aryan, but she still saw Prachi looking at her with mischief clear in her eyes.
She cleared her throat then, taking away her hand from his, reluctantly, and awkwardly let it rest on her side.
Yuvraj was the one to talk then, “You know each other?”
And Imlie sighed, and answered without answering, “Ee tumre dus aur businesses maa ek hoye rahe?(This is one of your tens of businesses?)”
And Aryan answered smugly, “Glad to see ke sirf huliya badla hai. Tum same hi ho.(Glad to see only your style has changed. You are still the same.)”
Imlie scoffed and replied, “Aur tum, tum abhi bhi uu hi Nakchade Akkadbagge ho.(And you, you are still that Nakchada Akadbagga.)”
Yuvraj’s eyes widened then, and exclaimed, “Imlie, boss hai mere.(Imlie, he’s my boss.)”
Imlie sighed then, and told her friends, “Miliye humre Ex-Boss-Babu, Mr. Aryan Singh Rathore se.(Meet my Ex-Boss-Babu, Mr. Aryan Singh Rathore.)”
And all their eyes widened, rather in sync, almost comically. Aryan watched them, and then looked at her and couldn’t stop himself from checking her out.
She was a vision.
Her fitted suits had turned to fitted dresses. Her braids had turned into messy buns. Her flats had turned to heels. She had changed so much. But the spark in her eyes was the same. The fire in her words was the same. She was the same.
Here she was, beautiful as she had been, sassy, as he always knew she was, nursing a drink of---
He didn’t know.
All of them watched then, as his face scrunched up in confusion as he took her drink off her hand and took a sip.
They all looked, but especially Imlie, as his face cleared of confusion and amusement took its place as he exclaimed, “Moved on from Lemonades to Virgin Mojitos. Not ready to let go of that control yet?”
Imlie sighed then, remembering their conversations from a lifetime ago, “You still drink Whiskey. Still drinking only when you think you are alone?”
He smirked again, “Yeah. You liked that didn’t you?”
And he realised how much more she had changed when she blushed. She never blushed for him before. No, he was the one who could never answer her questions and felt blood rush into his ears when she came at him. This Imlie blushed at him. It was astonishing.
He then turned to her friends, realising that he had been mid-introduction. He smiled at them again and explained, “Yeah! We knew each other from when she lived in Delhi.”
He saw their cartoony faces get back to normal, and waited for them to actually get back to normal.
It didn’t surprise him when the girl was the first one to speak. He was surprised, however, at her question, because it was kind of obvious that they knew who he was to Imlie, “Oh really? How?”
He raised an eyebrow at her tone and looked incredulous at how Imlie pinched her. But he replied nonetheless, “She was an employee.”
But this time it was Yuvraj, who was on the same wavelength as Prachi, who asked, “Oh? You remember your employees from five years ago?”
And Imlie closed her eyes in embarrassment. If these people were Imlie’s friends, well there would’ve been not a moment’s rest in Imlie’s life.
He turned to look at them, and realised that Imlie had gotten herself a good bunch of people with her.
And Aryan owed it to them, to Imlie, to answered honestly, “Well no, but she’s Imlie.”
And while Aryan wasn’t looking at her, he knew she was looking at him, aware of her gaze even after five years.
He heard Vivaan sigh and reply, “That she is.”
And he heard history in that. He felt scared at that. Because if she had someone she loved, then he couldn’t do anything about it, wouldn’t do anything about it. But only if she had.
So he turned to look at her reaction, and realised that it was one-sided. Because it may be five years, but Aryan Singh Rathore had seen Imlie in love, and the way she looked at Vivaan, that was not how Imlie looked when in love.
So he changed the topic and asked a question of his own, “So, is she still as much of a crybaby as she was when I knew her?”
At that all of them laughed, well, except Imlie, and Prachi answered, “Oh One Hundred Percent!”
But Imlie interrupted her before she could continue and asked, “Knew her? Ab tum humka naahi jaanat ho kya?(Knew her? You do not know me now?)”
Aryan turned to her, replied to her, “Not this you. Yeh Imlie, joh dresses pehenti hai, english bolti hai, heels pehenti hai. Joh itni confident hai, jisse apne upar itna vishwaas hai, joh kissi se nahi darti hai. Iss Imlie se main anjaan hun. But haan, main yeh zaroor jaanta tha ki meri waali Imlie yeh Imlie zaroor banegi.(Not this you. This Imlie, who wears dresses, who speaks english, who wears heels. Who is confident, who believes in herself, who is not scared of anyone. This Imlie is unknown to me. But yes, I always knew that my Imlie definitely would become this Imlie.”
She heard his reply, she heard his “Meri(My) Imlie” and it made her heart beat so much faster. But she couldn’t back down now and replied, “Well hum bhi iss Aryan Singh Rathore se anjaan rahe, jon abhi lehki ko datewa par le jaawat rahe. Hum bhi uu Akadbagge ko jaanat rahe jon ko lehki mein 0% ka interest rahe.(Well, this Aryan Singh Rathore is also unknown to me, the one who takes girls out on dates. I too knew the Aryan Singh Rathore that had 0% interest in girls.)”
Aryan spluttered at that, she was accusing him of dating, he hadn’t had a girl on his mind except her since she left Delhi. He asked, “What do you mean Imlie?”
And she replied, rage clear in her tone, “I mean Shanaya Manya, the supermodel.”
He realised then what this was and immediately started explaining, “That was almost three years back Imlie. And it wasn’t even a date, Arpi Di had set me up and she was there then, it was just some hare-brained scheme to make me realise that I was in love----”
And he paused, his eyes widening. What the f*ck was he just about to say. One moment in front of her and he was back to square one.
Imlie raised her eyebrows a couple of times and he gulped. He finished his sentence, “----with someone.”
Imlie asked then, “Oh? Who?”
Aryan answered with a question of his own, “What does it matter to you?”
Imlie scoffed, “It doesn’t.”
Aryan huffed again. This was going out of hand. He had to get it under control. He had to gain the upper hand. And then like a light bulb went off in his head, he realised. How could he be so stupid. Of course that was what was happening here.
Determined, and a bit smug, he asked, “Are you jealous?”
At that Imlie spluttered, and denied immediately, “No. Why would I be jealous?”
Aryan smiled then, realising that he had been right and said, “You are. You are jealous.”
“No, I'm not.”
“Yes you are”
“No, I’m not.”
“You so are.”
But before they could go on, Prachi was interrupting them and saying, “I think it’s best we take our leave, give you time to catch up.”, and both Yuvraj and Vivaan nodded their heads eagerly, not wanting to see them flirt anymore.
Imlie looked downright horrified. She tried to stop them but was unsuccessful.
They left after saying their goodbyes, and Imlie and Aryan were left alone.
Imlie looked at her drink and Aryan looked at Imlie.
He could not take the awkwardness anymore so he suggested, “Let’s get out of here, go somewhere quiet?”, and was glad when Imlie didn’t protest.
They got out of the bar, and walked towards the beach.
They both were thinking along the lines of how this was strange. How they had never imagined they would be together at a night like this, five years after they’d last met, and walking towards the beach. When they reached there, Aryan asked with his eyes, if she wanted to go onto the sand. She nodded her head in affirmation.
He took off his shoes and socks. She took off her heels.
And then they walked along the shoreline together, side by side, Imlie a head shorter than Aryan without her heels, they looked like a couple out on the beach for walk in the night.
Their fingers brushed together, and neither of them tried to take it away. When they brushed again, Aryan took her hand in his, intertwining them. She looked up at him to find him looking out to the horizon.
God she had missed him.
Then Aryan was looking at her, and she realised she had said that out loud.
She looked away from him, down at their feet in the sand, when she heard him say, “I missed you too.”
She looked up at him again, to see him smiling, still looking at the horizon.
She stopped walking then, and he too when he felt a tug on his hand. He turned, confused, when she asked, “Who were you in love with?”
Aryan sighed, and answered, “Are.”
Imlie was the one confused this time, “What?”, she asked.
Aryan pulled her closer, “I am still in love with her.”
And Imlie let out a breath, “Oh!”, she exclaimed.
“Yeah!” he smiled.
Imlie looked up determinedly, “Who are you in love with?”
Aryan smiled while admitting, simply, “You.”
And Imlie’s eyes widened, and she exclaimed, “Oh!”, but then without saying anything, began walking again, and he had no choice but to follow, her hand in his.
But then she paused again, and pulled him closer. She looked at their hands, and she brought them up, and kissed his hand in hers. Her eyes still locked on their hands, she confessed, “I am in love with you too.”
And Aryan’s brain short-circuited. The thing was, when he had admitted to be in love with her, he hadn’t expected her to reply, and he hadn’t even thought of a confession. This was new, this felt amazing. This felt like, he couldn’t describe what it felt like.
But while his brain was short-circuiting, Imlie had begun walking again, and he wasn’t about to let her walk away as if she hadn’t just said what she had. No. So he pulled Imlie back to him, leaned down and kissed her.
One of his hands found her waist, the other lost in her hair, messing up the already messy bun, he kissed her. He felt one of her hands brushing through his hair and her other cupping his cheek and he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else at that moment.
He felt their lips battle, he felt hers submit to his, he passed her lips when she let him, and he battled her tongue into dominance.
He only let her go when they were both out of their breaths.
Imlie and Aryan both panted, heaving deep breaths in.
Imlie giggled in delight and Aryan followed. They let their foreheads rest against each other’s.
It was bliss.
CID
Music Corner
