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The Hookup
an AbhiGya FF by -mina-
Part 3:
The Rules | The Nickname | The Messages | The Rooftop | The Follow Up
an AbhiGya FF by -mina-
Part 3:
The Rules | The Nickname | The Messages | The Rooftop | The Follow Up
Later that night, Abhi was sitting on his bedroom balcony, sipping scotch and watching the night sky.
He had stayed at the studio flat for hours after Pragya left. He ordered takeout for dinner and worked on the song he had begun mentally composing on the way back from Delhi. Oddly enough, he only seemed to be able to work on that song on days he met Pragya.
He had decided to come home to sleep, as the bedroom at the flat still held a distracting amount of Pragya's scent.
But it turned out his bedroom at home brought up a distracting amount of Pragya's memories, so he was no better off.
He had settled onto the outdoor couch of his balcony, hoping to find some peace in the fresh air. He had whisky with him - just a tumbler, not a bottle, because he had to perform the next day - and was making his way through it slowly.
Pragya had slept on this very couch during the first months of their marriage. He wondered now how she had borne it, night after night cramped onto the wicker settee, with only a duvet to keep out the cold.
He wondered how he could have been so callous and indifferent as to let her shiver outside instead of sharing his bed. He wondered how he could have been so stupid.
But those had been confusing times. Tanu had been the woman in his life, then, and Pragya had been nothing more than an unexpected burden. He had married her under a mistaken assumption. She was never supposed to be a part of his life to begin with, so he had never tried to give her a place in it.
Yet here they were now, three years since the whirlwind wedding they never should have had. Now that they had agreed to keep hooking up, Pragya, of all women, would be the closest thing he'd had to a girlfriend since breaking up with Tanu. What kind of a circle was that?
He had briefly dated a few other women after splitting from Tanu, but he'd had neither interest nor time for a real relationship. He hadn't even really missed sex in the year since his last fling, keeping busy enough with work that being single and celibate didn't bother him.
This thing he'd agreed to with Pragya was supposed to be all about sex. But, as he sat alone under the night sky, Abhi could admit to himself that it wasn't. What they were doing wasn't really just hooking up.
Abhi knew hookups. Hookups were late night calls and too much alcohol. They weren't bright afternoons and sweet sobriety. They were about hunger, bodily needs, and forgetting. They weren't about laughter, warmth, and discovery. They weren't with a woman who had massaged your grandmother's feet. The same woman who had saved your suicidal sister from bleeding out. The only woman who had ever fasted on Karwa Chauth for your long life
They weren't with your ex-wife - who you had never treated as your wife but still she had been there, through everything. Until she wasn't anymore. Gone, just like that. Just like he had always told her he wanted.
But, God, what a mess his life had become after she left.
Daadi wouldn't speak to him, appalled to learn that he had married her chosen bride with false intentions. He and Aaliya had fallen out, because even after spending a whole year in the revenge marriage she had orchestrated, he couldn't get her to forget Purab. There was already distance and constraint between him and Purab because of the Bulbul issue. Even their breakup and his divorce weren't enough to bring their bond back to the way it used to be.
The three people who mattered to him most in the world had all had their own reasons to be pleased when he had married Pragya. And when he had divorced her, they each had their own reasons to be disappointed.
Tanu hadn't understood when he had been so upset at life not returning to normal immediately after Pragya left. She thought he should just be miraculously happy, as if undoing his one mistake was all that mattered. Nevermind all the associated fallout that he was helpless to do anything about. Then eventually she left too, finally realizing that he was never going to prioritize their relationship the way she wanted.
And then he'd had nothing left but work. But what was the point, when he didn't have anyone to take care of anymore? When he wasn't earning to see his family's smiles, when he wasn't coming home to their love and warmth?
With no answers to those questions and fed up of feeling miserable, he had shut down the emotional side of himself that had somehow emerged in the year he had spent with Pragya. His life became all about work again. About record breaking, competing with himself, and always pushing for more. So what if he was a failure as a man? He wouldn't fail in his career.
But the new success, sales, fans...none of it helped really. Empty nights followed endless draining days and he didn't know what he was living for, anymore. Could he ever have his family back, the way it was? Daadi happy and hopeful and proud. Aaliya open and affectionate instead of resentful. Purab by his side, sharing his dreams and his victories. The house always busy with things like diwali parties and pujas he didn't believe in and so much that he had taken for granted until it was all just so suddenly gone.
Restlessness had led him to songwriting. He'd had nothing but time on his hands and no choice but to be alone. Well, perhaps there had been a choice. But he didn't want to waste time with fake relationships and shallow people. He didn't want star worshippers. He wanted real people back in his life and when he couldn't have them, he just kept to his thoughts.
But he often wanted to escape his thoughts, too, and so at last he found distraction through songwriting. He discovered that when he was working on lyrics, absorbed in a task with a goal, he could the turn the anguish he couldn't face into something productive.
And soon he had written more than he'd known what to do with. Songs he could never sing in public, because they weren't his style. One day he had shown his agent, who had been surprised and gratifyingly impressed. One thing led to another and then Akaash was asking him "Bhai, what's this new line of income?" - because he'd never told his manager what he was working on.
Then Akaash had the idea to get him the apartment as a personal studio. It was probably not what he had needed, more space to be alone. But the emptiness helped him focus sometimes. And in a fresh space, without the visceral reminders of memories and regrets, his lyrics started to get less...sad. Still too deep for Abhi the Rockstar's fans, though.
Did he wish he could perform his songs? Yes, sometimes...but not to roaring stadiums of fans who just wanted "Happy Love" and those old hits. Maybe to a smaller meaningful audience. To Daadi and Purab. To someone else, who had once mocked his music as lacking life.
That was as much as he ever thought of her. Little flashes at the edge of his thoughts, odd yearnings he refused to pay attention to. She was no one to him. A mistake, a stranger, firmly in the past.
But now...she wasn't anymore. She was part of his life again, and it was almost too strange to believe. That night in Delhi had been surreal, but so deeply fulfilling. And the two afternoons they'd had in Mumbai were the brightest days he could remember in a long time.
He had her back, but it wasn't the same. She was Pragya, but not his Chashmish. She still let him call her that but there was so much different about her, now. She was sharing her body with him but nothing else. Abhi tried to tell himself that he wanted exactly that, that of course what they had agreed to should be meaningless, physical, temporary.
As if it hadn't mattered, somewhere in the primal depths of his being, that she chose him to be her first. As if he didn't hate the thought of her sharing her fascinating list and amazing curiosity with anyone else. As if it wasn't going to be any trouble at all to walk away from her when it was time to go on his tour.
Looking down at his glass, Abhi realized he was on his last sip of whisky. He tossed it back without hesitation. The familiar burn of it brought him back from the melancholy edge of his thoughts.
OK, yes, he could admit that being with Chashmish again was messing with his feelings. But the bottom line was that she was still entirely the wrong woman for him, and he was the wrong man for her. He needed someone who could belong in his world and she needed someone who could belong in hers. He already had his life, thank you very much, and he didn't need her back in it permanently. Someday Chashmish would find a man who wanted to build a life with her and have the boring old happily ever after that had never interested him.
And if something about that thought made a flare of hot rage spike through his gut, well, Abhi could easily blame it on the scotch.
His phone buzzed, and when he picked it up he saw that it was a few minutes past midnight. Three new message alerts popped up, all with the same time-stamp of 12:00AM. He wasn't sure which to click first, hesitating for a moment with his finger hovering above the screen.
But then he flicked open Pragya's text.
12:00AM Pragya says: Happy birthday again, Rockstar. Another year older, another year wiser? Even one night of binge drinking can lead to liver damage, so be careful this weekend!
He laughed aloud, the last lingering waves his gloomy mood dispelled into mist. She had always been so straight-spoken about her disapproval of these aspects of his lifestyle, and here even while wishing him she was giving him a scold. Maybe it should have annoyed him but somehow...he liked the idea that she still cared what he did to his liver.
He texted back, "thank you dr. chashmish. we both know i'm too old for binges. are bdays an exception to rule 3?"
He couldn't resist questioning her about her no contact rule, which he really didn't agree with. Maybe it was a good sign that she herself was ignoring it, and he hoped it wasn't only for the occasion.
He wondered if she would reply back right way, but nothing came in as he watched his screen for the next thirty seconds. Figuring that Pragya had gone to sleep, he moved on to the next message.
12:00AM Aaliya Mehra says: Happy birthday to the best Bhai in the world! Come visit me and I'll make you cake.
The childish text from Aaliya made him smile. Being apart since she moved back to Australia had actually improved their relationship a lot. He still regretted that he couldn't have her happy at home with him, but it was better to be back on affectionate joking terms with her while living apart than to have her living under his roof resentful of everything he did.
He replied, "it's my bday and you're making demands? brattiest sister in the world trophy in the mail for you."
The third message was from Purab.
12:00AM Purab says: Happy birthday Abhi!! 35 is the new 23 ;) Dinner on me when I get back.
Shaking his head in amusement, Abhi sent a quick reply back. "wrong, 35 is the new 35. dinner on me, just come back soon."
He knew it was a pointless request, since Purab's insane work schedule kept him travelling most days of the year. It was entirely possible that the next time Purab was home for one of his brief breaks, Abhi would already be out on tour.
Still, it made him happy to see that Purab was thinking of him. Their friendship might not be the same as it used to be, but they were still part of each other's lives. Abhi was willing to count that as a small blessing.
He got to his feet and stretched, yawning as he finally felt sleep beckoning to him. In a much better mood than when he'd come out, Abhi left the balcony, ready for bed.
***
On Thursday morning, Pragya found her thoughts repeatedly wandering back to the fact that it was Abhi's birthday. She was curious about his birthday concert, and started to plan how she might get away with watching it in her room without her family interrupting. However, the email she got just before lunch immediately turned her mind in another direction.
Greetings, Dr. A!
Has it really only been two weeks since Delhi? Seems like forever since I saw you. I might be down in Mumbai later this month - we should do dinner.
Anyway, just wanted to let you know that Dr. Rai and Dr. Benson have not stopped singing your praises to the Dean. They loved your presentation and they loved you even more. Good move chatting with them about Derrida, they were really impressed.
That opening I told you about is confirmed now, as Prof. Dasgupta formally announced her mat leave. Rai and Benson are heading the search committee and I think we both know who'll be at the top of their list. Not sure if they'll call first or write, but thought you could use a head's up.
Maybe get started on drafting sample syllabi and pull together your references, yeah? And I'm always Skypable if you need some help.
Maybe get started on drafting sample syllabi and pull together your references, yeah? And I'm always Skypable if you need some help.
Cheers,
F
Pragya read the email four times back to back and still couldn't believe it. She knew she had made a good impression on the hiring committee, but to hear that she was on their shortlist already was better than she could have hoped. Overflowing with gratitude, she didn't think twice as she typed up a quick reply to Dr. F.
Hi! This is fantastic, thank you so much for the head's up. I'm going to dive deep into app prep now, but definitely we should meet when you're here. Until then! -P
For the rest of the day, her every spare thought went back to the job opportunity at Jadavpur. With no firm timeline for when they would call and no specific instructions for the application, there wasn't a whole lot she could do yet. But her mind was buzzing with new ideas, and she decided to stay late at her office so that she could make the most of the surge of inspiration.
Friday passed much the same way. She managed to concentrate on the task at hand when she was actually lecturing, but the rest of the time she was thinking about her application. It had to be perfect, because the job was perfect for her. And that meant that there was no such thing as working too far in advance.
As she had no patience for grading, she spent most of the afternoon settled in her office working out the details of her proposed syllabi. True, she didn't know yet which courses she might be offered, but that just meant that she could prepare for a range of possibilities. By the time she left the college that evening, she had three rough drafts ready and a fourth sequence in mind to work on over the weekend.
She reached home just in time for dinner. Janki Amma was setting the table, and when she saw Pragya walk in she smiled and flipped over one more plate. Maa came out of the kitchen carrying a pot of daal. Feeling guilty that she hadn't helped prepare the meal, Pragya rushed to take it from her.
"Arre!" Maa clucked fondly. "This much I can handle alone," she insisted. Nonetheless she let Pragya take the pot from her.
You shouldn't have to, Pragya thought as she set the pot on the table.
Daadi came out from her room then. When she saw Pragya, she mimed as if she was staggering back, clutching her hand to her heart theatrically. "But what is this? Dr. Arora home for dinner tonight? Don't tell me you actually managed to step away from your work today!"
Pragya laughed and gave her a quick hug. "Aap bhi naa Daadi! It's not even late." She patted her grandmother's back and started to make her way to her own bedroom.
"It's a Friday, beta!" Daadi called after her. "You should have left extra early."
Pragya quickly freshened up, eager to join everyone for dinner. She was looking forward to finally telling her family about the pending job invitation. She had been so busy working on it that there just had not been a chance to inform them yet.
As Pragya took her seat at the table, Bulbul walked into the house. She dropped a white paper pharmacy bag in front of their mother.
"There now, no excuses," Bulbul said sternly. She put her hands on her hips and watched closely as Maa opened the bag. "I even brought it before dinner, so you can't put off taking it until tomorrow."
Maa grumbled her usual complaints about doctors addicted to over-prescribing and daughters who were too interfering. But she took the pill as she was supposed to, gulping down half a glass of water under Bulbul's watchful eye.
"That's like my darling Maa!" Bulbul approved cheerfully. Her usual bubbliness brightened her face, and she even leaned in to pinch Maa's cheeks affectionately.
Maa swatted Bulbul's hands away. "Dutt!" she exclaimed. "As if I am a two year old child. Go wash your hands before dinner."
Bulbul rolled her eyes. "Yes, Maa," she said with the cheekily dismissive tone she had mastered as a teenager. She picked up the medicine to put it away. "Yun gayi aur yun aayi!"
Pragya made a mental note to ask Bulbul for the prescription receipts. Suresh had told her recently about a new government subsidy that might make Maa's medicine more affordable. She would have to gather all the papers and sit down with him to figure it out sometime soon.
Bulbul returned within a few minutes, taking her usual seat next to Purvi's empty chair. "Oh Amma, have you heard from your world-travelling daughter today?" Bulbul asked Janki Amma.
Janki Amma frowned. "Would she have time to call me when she could just message you instead? I was going to ask if you had heard from her."
Bulbul shook her head. Pragya saw Janki Amma's brow start to crease with worry so she said quickly, "Nothing to worry about. She told us she wouldn't always have reception na? She will call or message tomorrow."
Amma still looked distressed, but instead of continuing the topic she started to dish out food onto everybody's plates. Pragya wished she could completely soothe the older woman's fears, but sometimes there was just no getting through to a parent. Pragya was sure Purvi was doing just fine on her college trip to South Africa, but nothing she could say would convince Janki Amma that she didn't need to worry.
They all started to eat, and Maa asked the usual questions about what she and Bulbul had done that day. Bulbul answered first, taking the chance to vent her frustration about the canteen staff at her job. According to Bulbul, they had never heard of salad, and she was frustrated with their menu full of heavy foods.
"Or you could just pack your own salads," Maa pointed out, not for the first time.
Bulbul scowled petulantly. "I've told you Maa, it's expected to eat in the canteen. If I want to get promoted I have to join the team for lunch every day."
They had their usual argument on the topic, Maa not understanding the restrictions of Bulbul's social environment and Bulbul unwilling to make a practical compromise about her lunches. Daadi finally cut through their repetitive squabble.
"Enough," she said, shaking her head, and that was enough to end the matter. Daadi turned to Pragya. "What about you?" she asked. "We have barely seen you all week. Yesterday you came home after dinner, and even Wednesday you were late."
A rush of self-consciousness heated Pragya's cheeks. Wednesday she had been late because she had been with Abhi, and that was not a comfortable thing to be reminded of at the dinner table.
But she calmly finished her last bite of food and focused on the news she wanted to share. "Actually," she said, slowly meeting everyone's eyes in turn. "I...might be getting a job offer."
The next minutes passed in a babble of congratulations and excited questions. Even though she kept getting interrupted, Pragya managed to explain all about how her conference presentation might have helped her get short listed before the job was even formally announced.
"But nothing's sure yet," she concluded finally. "I mean, first I have to be invited for the interview, and then we'll see from there."
"It's still excellent news," Maa said. "I'm sure it will work out, how could you not be the best? But Jadavpur...Beeji, Jadavpur?" She looked questioningly at Daadi.
"It is in Kolkata," Daadi supplied.
Maa's eyes widened. She looked at Pragya in dismay. "Kolkata! But beta, that is so far," she said, an edge of anxiety entering her tone.
But it's the best, Pragya wanted to reply, thinking of how amazing it would be for her career to work with the scholars and resources there. Instead she said, "Well, it'll only be a nine month contract at first, and only if I get it."
Guilt spiked in her chest but she ignored it. She knew she shouldn't downplay the possibilities, since she was secretly hoping the nine month contract would turn into something longer term. But neither could she let Maa fret too much about it when it wasn't even close to a sure thing yet.
Bulbul jumped in, diverting the mood as she said excitedly, "Di! You know this calls for a celebration!" She stood up, grabbing her empty plate as well as Pragya's. "You are coming out with us tonight."
"What? No, I -" Pragya tried to resist, but Bulbul wouldn't have it. She took their plates to the kitchen, and then was back in a flash to drag Pragya off to get ready.
Bulbul ignored all of Pragya's protests about having to work and being too tired. "You can work after you get the job, Di," she chided. "And remember, last week you promised to go this time!"
"I didn't promise," Pragya countered. But she gave in after that, deciding that maybe a night out would be good for her. It wasn't like she had a deadline to meet, after all.
Bulbul pulled together an outfit for her by combining separate things from her own closet. The sleeveless black tunic paired with black leggings felt almost like an anarkali. But then Bulbul cinched a slim leather belt around her waist, and the ensemble didn't feel familiar anymore.
Bulbul turned Pragya to face the mirror. "Isn't it awesome, Di?" She hugged her from behind, leaning her chin onto Pragya's shoulder. "It's good for a club, yet it's still totally you." She tilted her head to one side, surveying Pragya's reflection with a frown. "But...it's going to have to be lenses tonight, ok?"
Pragya groaned. "Lenses are such a hassle! I'm fine with my glasses, let's just -"
Bulbul shook her head decisively. "Bas Di. You had your way in Delhi, and look how that flopped!"
"My glasses didn't make me flop!" Pragya protested. In fact maybe they were the reason for my success? She wondered if Abhi would even have recognized her without her chashma that night.
But further reflections were cut short as Bulbul sat her down to do her hair. "I'll keep it simple, don't worry," she promised. "Loose and..." she combed out Pragya's curls and fluffed them for volume. "Luxurious!" she concluded triumphantly.
"And just a touch of that silver blue shadow, and pink gloss for your lips, ok?" Bulbul handed her the cosmetics and waited expectantly while Pragya applied them.
"Perfect!" she crowed, nodding in approval as Pragya locked the cap back on the lip gloss. "Now you just put in your lenses, I'll be ready in a flash, and we are headed out!"
Pragya took a last glimpse in the mirror before she left Bulbul's room. The girl in the reflection did indeed look ready to go out...just as soon as she safely put away her glasses.
~continued below~
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