She was here, again. Arnav wondered how long before she would walk towards his work station and try making a conversation. May be after five chapters or six. If not then after seventh chapter she would definitely come up to him and start with how desperately she needs a cup of coffee, then she would move on to her cat, Ms. Caterina, was it?, and after giving him a detailed description of how Ms. Caterina's day was, she would talk about Charles Bukowski may be? She has acquired a taste for poetry lately. He mused. That girl was something, he would give that to her. She didn't need any sort of encouragement to go from Mississippi to Brahmaputra. And boy! She doesn't know how to take a hint. He is a socially awkward person who doesn't do hi-hello-let's-be-friends and to top it all he is sort of a misanthrope. He didn't like to talk to people. Period. He never encouraged her and replied with an occasional 'hmm' here and 'really?' there. But that never stopped her. He tried to remember since when did she start coming to his shop. But it seemed like a forever. He could not exactly remember her first visit. But whenever it was, she didn't stop after that first visit. Granted his coffee cum book shop is a combination, a unique one at that, of heaven for his kind of people. The kind for whom heaven is a good book and a classic cup of joe and of course zero disturbance from the world outside. But even the regular-est of customers does not come every f**king day. And here is Khushi Gupta, she has made him acquire a new habit of looking at the entrance, where hung a vintage poster of Patti Smith that said 'take your life one cup at a time', everyday at five sharp. And she never disappointed him, as soon as the black rimmed railway clock in his shop stroke five, Khushi Gupta would be there with her yellow sweater, dull pink scarf and a multicoloured dress with flowers on it. Not that she wears that combination everyday but he remembered her in that rainbow attire, because she wore that dress quite often. But then almost all her attires have so much colour in it. Classic black and grey shaded interiors of his shop dulled in front of her vibrant rainbow coloured combination of cloths. She would spend exactly three hours, order a cup of Americano, pick a book, have dinner and leave, in the initial days when she was in the process of becoming a regular customer. Now her routine includes walking over to open kitchenette where he would be working, talk to him about everything under the sun and have her dinner.
'Here she comes' he looked up from his working table as he heard footsteps approaching him.
"Hi, new recipe?" She asked pointing towards ensemble of light roasted Arabica, pumpkin spice and cinnamon sticks on the black marble slab.
"Yeah, just an idea."
"Hmm.. Pumpkin spice latte with a pinch of cinnamon, today's Lighthouse cafe special."She said the long name of latte she invented with a sing song voice. "Sounds nice. If I could I would be the first one to try it. But then I guess it would be NK or Aman. Where is Aman by the way?"
"He is just out, running errands. He will be back. So, what would you like for dinner tonight?"
"Arrabiata fusili, with chicken, make it triple tomato and garlic bruchetta for starters, affogato for dessert."
"Will that be all?"
"Yes. Italian for today. I mean, only the fusili pasta is Italian but then that is the main course right? I can still call my dinner Italian. The perks of being a millennial. I can have my dinner globalised. Don't you think? We really are lucky, you know. Though given a choice I would go back a century and live in there. Not that I don't like living in this century, but imagine living in the times of Elliot, Neruda, Fitzgerald or Gogh, or Degas. I would forgo my globalised dinner to have a chance to go for a walk in all night boulevards, drink my coffee in oxford coffeehouses, and discuss anarchism."
"Ermm.. Khushi I think you are mixing up centuries and countries. Oxford coffee houses were in England while all night boulevards were in 19th century France, not 20th. And you can't really exist in two centuries, that's beyond..."
"Then maybe I would like to exist in every century, read all the books I want, live all the lives I want."
"Did you just quote Plath?"
"Yes. But then a limited life is what makes existence exciting. I mean had you known you are going to live more lives than one, life wouldn't be this...limited and hence almost precious, almost. So let's just be content with this one life and..."
"Maybe but for now I am going to place your order, since our accountant is running his own errands today."
"Okay."
She walked over to Aman, the accountant's counter along with Arnav, continuing her talk. Arnav shook his head at her, albeit discreetly. This girl!!
"Aman said the other day that I can bring Ms. Caterina to your cafe. I mean she..."
"NO"
Arnav's voice rose a few notes without him intending it to.
"Whoa! Okay. I won't. It's just that she wants to come out for walks in the evenings but I am always stuck in work and then dinner. So.."
She said quietly. She sobered up a little at his loud no.
"So, what did you say you wanted for dessert?"
He remembered she wanted an affogato, the ice cream coffee, but he didn't like how the light on her face dulled.
"Affogato, the ice cream coffee. Who would have thought, right? That we would have ice cream coffee one day. My case is different, I like coffee in everything. I would use coffee in my perfume if I could but then they are so expensive. But there are people who like coffee to be coffee, not ice cream. Take my father for one, he..."
And Khushi Gupta went on, in between digging into her food and spooning down her coffee ice cream, using Arnav's marble slab as her dining table.
-----------------------
How does he manage to not offend her enough to stop talking and at the same time letting her know that her efforts don't really interest him. When she first walked into his cafe cum book shop, it had been her discover Saturday. On second Saturdays of every month she went cycling in her little town, hoping to discover cosy cafes and restaurants. And that Saturday she found the one she had been looking for all her life. Not that the sleepy little town in the Himalayan foothill had much to offer except for a few jazz clubs, a museum and cafes serving only a select number of coffee varieties with no creativity. Lighthouse cafe had books you can choose to read or to buy, it had new recipes coming up every now and then, it had a long list of coffee varieties, it had a friendly accountant, a jolly headed chef and it had... Arnav.
She loved coffee and that is a gross understatement. She loved good food and she loved art. She had made friends with NK, the head chef, on the first day of her visit. Aman took a lot of encouraging coming out of his recluse shell but she had been very encouraging. Now when she is in the shop, Aman comes over at least once to say a hi and on days when he is not very busy handling his thick ledger, they even chat a little. But it had been Arnav, the poker faced culinary expert and the owner who sent her heart in a crazy dancing spree the first time he looked at her. And that would be the very first day itself. She tried discerning the logic behind her nervous clammy hands, the deafening beats of her heart, and dry mouth whenever she smiled at him and he gave her a nod. She had made it a routine to spend the three hours, that is all of her free time, in his shop. It was as if she had lost control of some places in her mind and those places took her to Arnav. Everyday. She had finally given up and willed herself to talk to him. The first day was a disaster. He looked like he would rather go talk to a barking dog instead of her, but he was too polite to tell her that. She had cried herself to sleep that night. She had vowed to not go again. And she had gone there the next day. The places in her mind couldn't help it. But she couldn't help looking at him working on the open black marble slab where the visitors could watch him work. She had felt longing that acute for the first time in whole 23 years of her life. To see him work, to see his lissom fingers create flavours, play with chocolate creams, cinnamon sticks, glide them over the coffee beans to pick dark roasts and light roasts, the whiff of coffee making her heady. And on special days which he called exhibition, he would make the cafe special and seve it from his open work station. The same nimble fingers would assume such dexteriority that she would watch fascinated. Blood red cherry tomatoes, shining pickled olives, fresh green spinach mustards, and sweet smelling herbs of parsley, basil, cilantro, sprigs of thyme would be chopped in dozens a minute. And she would marvel at the graceful movements of his fingers, just like dancer's vocabulary.
But he never gave her a chance to take the first step towards friendship until the day she kept her promise, to not visit there and break her own heart. She had tried talking to him again, inspite of herself. He had looked at her with disbelief and that had given birth to sort of a resolve in her stubborn self. She will make Arnav Singh Raizada talk to her. And she had but only for him to tell her that he is not interested in whatever she is trying to pull. She can try her luck somewhere else. He had also told her in not so many words to leave him alone and if possible his friends. He had made her feel like a nuisance and she left the sparsely populated cafe in tears, almost in tears. And she had not visited the cafe after that. She is not one to dwell on things but it was her self-respect and no one gets to make her feel bad about herself. She loved being Khushi, damn it. But then Aman had to show up to apologise on his friend's behalf and then NK, looking almost ready to cry. She had decided she would visit lighthouse cafe, but only once in a while. It doesn't matter that it felt like home. She had visited her friends as she promised and sat at the farthest corner from his work table, refused to even look at him. She didn't expect him to come up to her and didn't expect his grumpy face to try that hard to look pleasant.
"Hi! Is the seat taken?"
She had forgotten to reply in her shock, so he made himself comfortable.
"How was the food? I hope not bad? I had only developed the recipe yesterday. And waiting for the first feedback?"
"Erm.. it is good. It is very good actually. I taste cauliflowers in the alfredo. It's cauliflower isn't it? But how did you make it this smooth? It melts in your mouth. It's white sauce but I don't taste cheese. I bet it is only heavy cream, hai na? And the twist. Ghost pepper?? I knew it. Did you roast the garlic beforehand? My mother always used to have a can of homemade roasted garlic with olive oil in the top shelf. And.."
She had stopped abruptly realising how easy she is making it for him.
"And?"
He had asked without realising. Listening to her was like sprawling in the first rays of sunshine in a winter morning.
"And nothing. She said curtly."
"Erm.. I.. Khushi. Listen, about the other day. I didn't mean to be rude. I am not generally rude. But people do generally back away when I .. look I am not socially fluent. I tend to.. I don't like interacting much, not that I don't like talking to you. I mean it's not like I like talking to you but it is not the opposite either. It is just that I don't like... I mean it's okay if you want to talk to me or NK or Aman. And you should come here. On weekends. No.. I mean whenever you please. It is good for the business. No... Not business. That came out wrong. I mean..."
She had burst out laughing then. To hear this grumpy man trying to sound pleasant, fumbling with words and miserably failing at it. She had decided to take charge of the talking part from then on. And he had looked at her laughing, with her eyes tearing up from laughing too much, wearing an expression she would have called smitten if she didn't know better.
Her dinner routine took shape since the day Arnav called it a truce. She divided her time between work, Arnav and Ms. Caterina. She had seen him transform from curt nodes to monosyllabic answers to full sentences to more than one sentence. He posseses vast knowledge about almost everything. Solo trips to corners of this world had enriched his taste, his opinions and his knowledge. He knew everything about her, she knew only this. He was almost perfect except for his people-hating trait.
And she was in love with him, he was not.
Khushi could only wish but that amounts to nothing.
--------------------
"NK, what the hell?"
"What's wrong Nannav? Why are you so surprised?"
"Why would not I be? You never told me that... how? I mean when did you.."
"Fall in love with Khushi? I don't know, mere dost. It just happened. She is so full of life. I mean anyone can fall in love with her."
And NK did. But so did Arnav.
Anyone can fall in love with her.
Arnav took the day off. He knows she likes to talk to him and she had gone an extra mile just so that she can talk to him. But then she would have done that for everyone. It was that attitude of hers that made him sceptical when she first started talking to him. He always stayed away from those full-of-life, happy-go-lucky, smell-the-roses kinds of people and he thought her to be one of them. Though she was the full-of-life but the next two traits are definitely not her. She felt acutely, almost too much, everything and lived for that. She was happy in her happiness but also got angry and vented it out on those who angered her, she cried and didn't hide it when she was sad, she loved and she hated. She was humane and that made her so perfect in her lack of extra ordinariness. And now he has lost his chance to tell her that. His fall had been gradual and slow. A gradual everyday change doesn't manifest itself unless forced to. Like the people around you who see you everyday don't see you growing tall until suddenly one day they realise how much you have grown in the last decade because some distant relative comes to visit you and makes them see it. And he had fallen in love one day at a time and realised only when NK realised his own love for Khushi. He doesn't know if he will be able to see Khushi talking to NK the way she talked to him.
--------------------------
"NK, what?"
"Oh okay. Never mind. I got my answer. I am sorry. I made everything so awkward. Shit!"
"I am in love with Arnav."
"Huh? Oh!! I kind of thought about that but then Arnav never showed any interest in you. So, I thought maybe I was just reading too much into your conversations. And in the morning.. Shit!"
"No, Arnav doesn't know. And you are right. He never showed any interest in me. It is just... me." Khushi said with as much dignity as the situation would allow her.
"I am so sorry, Khushi. I didn't know. Damn."
NK hugged her close. She cried bitter tears of everything that would never be.
---------------------------
Khushi seemed to have grown closer to NK. He noticed. He didn't have the heart to ask NK what if they were together now and NK never said anything. But it looked like they were, in fact, together. Arnav wished she would stop coming to his shop. She had started talking to him less. And he would rather it gets over quick, than a prolonged period of seeing her with NK and feel himself go back to where he was before she came. But he can't really go back now, once that he allowed himself a taste of being in love. He lost interest in his recipes and started taking more days off. He willed himself to go through the cycles of the day, see Khushi come in at five and curb his urge demand her to talk to him, sit at his work table and forget about everything else. But one day changed it all when she saw Khushi with Aman. She was smiling up at him and he looked down at her lovingly with a rose extended in her direction. He saw red and felt something in him break. May be it was the trust he had built painstakingly around her. Khushi had flaws but the Khushi he knew loved and didn't pretend to love. She was above that. Or so he thought.
"What the hell are you doing Aman?"
He charged at his friend. Didn't he care about NK at all?
"What? Arnav?"
"Are you not ashamed at yourself? I thought you were better than that. Nk is your best friend. He was there for you, when no one else was. Did you forget already? I didn't know you would turn out to be this selfish, unworthy excuse of a human being."
"Whoa! Arnav. What are you saying? What did Aman do?"
He wished she had not chosen to speak.
"I am talking to my friend. You stay out of this. I do not want to waste my words on likes of you. I knew you were always this conniving, manipulative opportunist. I warned Aman and NK about you and I tried to keep you away. It was for these two that I decided to give you a chance. But you proved me right. That day I told you this and I am telling you again. Go try somewhere else. Your charms are not gonna work here anymore."
She looked at him with disbelief
"How dare you? How dare you throw accusations at me? I came to your bloody cafe to eat and drink like everyone else. I made friends with NK and Aman inspite of you. Because they are good people. Just because you hide behind your mean words it doesn't make you a supra-human being. You are just a self-pitying hypocrite who can't stand his shortcomings and instead turn it around on people. I am leaving, don't worry. And I am never coming back, ever."
She turned and left without a backward glance.
He felt panic rise in him at her last words. She is never coming back? But she has to. She always found him, no matter how good he was in pretending that she didn't matter.
It was after blames shared and malice of past dug out, the three friends cleared their side of stories. Arnav was ashamed of himself at the end of it all. She was never in a relationship with NK because she was in love with someone else. His heart had started hoping again but NK's last revelation took it away. It was not what it looked like with Aman, his friend clarified. Ask her yourself Aman had said when Arnav asked what it was about. And now he didn't know how to face her. So he started with a pot of coffee, pumpkin spice latte with a pinch of cinnamon and packed it in a thermos. Then he went on to ghost peppers, golden turmeric sticks, cumin and coriander seeds roasted just enough to fill his kitchen with deliciousness, along with a spoonful of coconut and slices of olive roasted garlic to add to the deliciously frying pieces of trouts. He finished the Goan fish recipe with a dash of fresh lemon juice.
Everything was ready but he was not.
-------------------------
Khushi knew it was the last of Arnav she would see. And the realisation was sinking in slowly. The thought of never seeing him again was scary and it made her breathe stop with the amount of pain it brought. The pain cut deeper than his words from earlier. It was time for dinner and she hadn't had a grain since breakfast. Her lunch was ruined as it is. And curiously enough, she was not hungry. That was a first. Food made everything go away. But today is an exception. She had gone through so much in the span of 12 hours. The love of her life was lost, the same person she considered had become her friend broke her heart, used such language against her that she wanted to crawl inside a hole and come out only when it was all over. She wanted to not feel. She decided to go to sleep without her dinner and as soon as the thought ended her doorbell rang.
--------------------
"What are you doing here?"
She asked with a kitchen knife in her hand, her safety measure. Just in case. But it was Arnav, not the burglers she was expecting.
"Ermm.. I only brought dinner. You don't need to kill me for that Khushi."
"Huh? What? Oh!!" She immediately seized her hands to her back and hid the knife.
"Can I come in?"
"I am not hungry. Go away."
"What? How can you...? Khushi please?"
"I don't want to talk to you."
"I brought pumpkin spice latte with a pinch of cinnamon? And a sorry."
"Okay. But only for the latte."
"I can do with that."
"..."
"..."
"Khushi! I am really sorry. I misunderstood the situation earlier. I thought you were involved with Aman... I... I... lashed out. I am.."
"So? What if I was involved with Aman? That doesn't give you the right to meddle in my personal life. It is my life, I will date Aman or even a pumpkin if I want to. Who are you to decide for me?"
"No! Khushi let me complete. I thought you were involved with Aman while dating NK."
"Again, so what? I will date a hundred guys at the same time if I want. Who are you to say otherwise?"
"Khushi, not like that. I thought you were cheating on NK with Aman. I mean I thought you were going behind NK to involve with Aman."
"How could you even...? Oh God. Get out."
"Khushi... I..."
"Arnav Singh Raizada, get out before I scream this whole neighbourhood down."
"Khushi, No. It was because Nk told me he was in love with you and he was so smitten. I... just."
"Looking out for your friend? Well! I thought I am your friend too." Khushi looked down to hide the tears that were forming in her eyes.
"Yes, you are, Khushi. You are a friend, I am stupid. You were right I am a horrible person. Khushi look at me. I am sorry." He held her shoulders to make her look up. At him. And when she did, he felt his own eyes gloss over.
"Shit! Khushi I didn't mean it. Khushi don't cry. Please. All those horrible things I said, I didn't mean any of it. I want you to be around. Khushi, please don't cry." But her tears wouldn't stop. She was not crying just for today, but for everyday she looked at him and wished he would love her the way she loved him. Everything seemed so unfair. She loved this man so much and he hadn't the slightest idea. How could he think she would date NK when she looked at him like that?
As Arnav stared into her face, her eyes searching him, he realised how wrong he had been. How could she have dated NK when she looked at him like that? NK had said she was in love with someone else. Everything fell into place.
He crushed her in his arms as he whispered into her hair
"Oh Khushi! I was such a fool. Shit."
Khushi realised. He knew. What had she done. She de-tangled herself slowly from his embrace. Even as he tightened his hold.
"Arnav, it's okay. I am not mad anymore."
"But I am. I am so mad at you."
"Huh? What?"
"You knew I was an idiot when it comes to matters like this. How could you not tell me? So much of pain wasted. So many..."
"I am fine Arnav. Really, I knew I was going to fall in love with you. I did. And it's on me. You never asked me to... In fact I think I smothered you with all my ramblings because I couldn't keep away. I forced you to have conversations when you didn't want to..."
Arnav couldn't let her go on. She thought he didn't care for her? Did she really believe that?
"Khushi stop. Listen..."
"No. Arnav, you should go. It's late and..."
"Khushi stop."
"No. Why would I stop? Why should I stop? It's my house and I am telling you to go. And you have to listen to me. Because this is my house. okay? And I need some time alone. Why are you still standing here? Why don't you go?Arnav.." and with that she started pushing him towards the door with all her might.
"Khushi just listen. Why are you pushing me? Khu.. Khushi stop it. I said STOP IT. YOU CAN'T PUSH ME LIKE THIS. I AM STRONGER THAN YOU ARE OKAY? Arrey! KHUSHI I SAID STOP."
"Why should I..."
"Because I LOVE YOU DAMMIT"
That stopped her.
"Wh.. what?"
"I love you."
"How? I mean why didn't you tell me?"
"I would have if you were not pushing me out of the door."
"Oh sorry."
"So?"
"So? So, nothing. I am hungry."
"Really? That's all you got to say?"
"..."
"Khushi?? Are you...? Are you blushing?"
Arnav asked cupping her red cheeks.
"NO. I am not." She squeaked.
"Ohkay. That's it. I have had enough. I am kissing you."
With that Arnav gently tilted her face upward and placed his lips on hers.
He has soft lips for a man with that hard a face. It was the last thought before Khushi stopped thinking at all.
-----------------------------------
"I am guessing the ghost pepper is your idea in this?"
"Correct. 10 points. You will get your rewards soon, darling."
"Don't call me that."
"I will. It's better than baby."
"Waise how did you know I like Goan cuisine?"
"Lucky guess. Also I thought Ms. Cat-erina will like it even if you don't."
"So unromantic."
"Hey come on! I called you Darling."
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Too Long to be proof-read. Forgive me the typos, people.
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