Exams and the school year were finally over and Chiranjeev had two weeks, three if he could push his guilt away, before he had to get back to planning for the next academic year. Right now though, he was lounging in a beach chair in his shorts, a beer in hand and nobody around. Well, his extremely loud cousins were somewhere behind him, enjoying a game of throwball while trying to coordinate with beers in hands and half drunk.
He would have joined them but the sea was calling out to him and he was rather enjoying the peace. Being a primary school teacher meant he had come to fear silence. But here, since he wasn’t in charge, there were at least two older cousins somewhere, he could relax.
His relaxation though was short lived when Seema didi interrupted him. He always loved how she transformed into another person when they were in Goa. Gone were the dark circles from under her eyes, the exhaustion that seemed to weigh on her of being a surgeon and the light that would appear in her eyes like any time she could invite you into some mischief.
“Looking good didi,” he raised his pint to clink with her mojito glass.
“Who are you missing that you’re sitting all the way here?”
Chiranjeev sat up straighter, all hints of the light buzz he was feeling gone. He wanted to say he wasn’t missing anyone, that she was imagining things but the smile on her face told him he had delayed his response just enough that she knew she was right.
“Ugh, don’t tell anyone.”
“Chiru you know I wouldn’t.”
He rolled his eyes. He hated that nickname and he hated how it immediately turned him into a six year old.
“It’s Chanderi.”
“Who?”
“Chanderi.”
Seema didi gulped her mojito like she was taking a shot. “Please tell me there is another person named Chanderi and you’re not talking about your ex-fiancé.”
He looked away, first at the horizon and then at his bottle. The clouds were gathering and they were dark. It would rain by the evening. His cousins had made a plan to play in the rain, something none of the adults would have allowed them had they been there. It amused him how childish they could become when the “adultier adults” were missing.
“Chiru.”
There was such a wealth of admonishment and sympathy in that one word, he had no choice but to look at her. “We have been talking. We are friends.”
She opened her mouth, then closed it. She said after a moment, “I was going to say something that would have made me sound exactly like chachi so I’m going to take a moment and say something else.”
“Okay,” she said and cracked her neck from side to side as if she was going for a fist fight. “Are you sure?”
He laughed. “That’s the question you’re going with?”
To her credit, she thought about it. Then tried to take a drink before realising she had finished the lemon infused cocktail. She waved to one of the younger ones, asked him to get her a refill and only once he had brought her another glass, she said, “Yes.”
Just like she had done, he gave her question serious thought. “I don’t know. She said I loved her but she didn’t so she couldn’t go ahead with the wedding. Now that I have had more time with her, I don’t think I loved the real her. I’m learning new things about her every day and you remember what Rahul bhaiya and you told me when I was acting all obnoxious?”
“Remind me.”
“You said I was in the honeymoon phase and I’d fall hard.”
“Oh, that was rude.”
Chiranjeev smiled and shook his head. They took a pause in their conversation when another cousin brought them a plate of french fries and chilli chicken. They spent some time eating before he said, “I fell. The illusion broke and I’m back on earth.”
“What are you hoping this friendship will lead to?”
“Honestly, it doesn’t matter. I do love her, how can I not. She loves my kids as much as I do. She organised an embroidery workshop for them in three days just because I had randomly mentioned it to her. She sends me her fabric swatches because of how my man eyes see them and it cracks her up every time. But if all I get is friendship, I’ll be okay.”
“Man eyes?”
“Apparently there’s a difference between mauve and lilac that I cannot perceive?”
Seema didi laughed. “I don’t want to put your hopes up but I think it’s not as straightforward as that. I think she definitely has feelings.”
Chiranjeev looked at Seema didi with a dopey smile. “I think so too. But I don’t want to do anything about it. I’m in it for the long haul.”
Seema didi raised her glass and clinked it again with Chiranjeev’s empty bottle. “Cheers Chiru.”
“Cheers didi.”
Chapter 17 of 26 of the ongoing series Chanderi. You can read all posts here. Written as part of #BlogchatterA2Z.
tales of Suchita 
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