Soon there came a time when alcohol took effect. It had tickled the pleasure cells in her brain. That’s when taste didn’t matter any more. We continued to eat and drink, and we talked a lot. We talked crazy. Actually, it was Simar who was talking crazy. I was just acknowledging her chatter in the same tone. I was enjoying being with her. I was enjoying seeing this totally different side to her. She was enjoying making the best out of the bitter-tasting beer. She let herself go, enjoying her high because she knew that I was with her. She had said she was comfortable with me.
But all of a sudden I was beginning to think about my comfort level. My girlfriend was pitch drunk with only a pint of beer and had starting singing songs.
Hindi songs! In a Chinese restaurant! Amidst a Belgian crowd!
I wanted her to enjoy herself, though certainly not at the cost of being a public embarrassment. But she was unstoppable. Fortunately, there were not many people occupying the immediate tables beside us and thankfully she wasn’t loud enough for others who sat at tables further away. She picked one line and tested my nerves by singing it I don’t know how many times!
‘
Aaja-aaja-neeley
la-la-la-la-la-la-laaaaaa—
JAI HO!
’
And every time, exactly two seconds later, she would add another ‘
JAI HO
’, the only clearly audible part of her song.
I tried my best to control her but I couldn’t help myself from laughing when she asked, ‘Ravz, you don’t like A.R. Rahman, kya?’
She was completely drunk by now and I realized the change in her body language.
Seeing the squad of bartenders and waiters observing us I was a little alarmed and began to insist that Simar behave herself. She gave me a look as if I had denied her her moral right. I quickly called on the waiter to get the menu card to order the main course.
As the waiter arrived at our table, Simar tried reading the name tag right above the pocket of his tuxedo. She actually got close enough to him while reading it.
‘Lee …’ she said first and then continued to add, ‘Chang …’ She was about to spell the remaining two letters of one of the most difficult names she had encountered in her life, when I cut her short.
‘Simar!’
‘Yes,’ she said and shifted her focus back to me. She was smiling all the time.
‘Excuse me.’ I begged pardon from the waiter for Simar’s behaviour. Then I asked Simar what she would prefer for dinner. She looked here and there wondering what she wanted next that evening.
‘What are those people having along with lemon in those tiny glasses?’ she asked me, pointing to a bunch of people at the bar.
I looked behind.
‘That’s tequila,’ I answered and continued asking her about what she wanted to eat.
But she ignored me completely and screamed, ‘Oh! Tequila shots!!’
She had added her knowledge to the little amount of information I had provided and was feeling on top of the world. I knew she was not going to give any suggestions on the food.
I looked at the menu and ordered some fried rice and seasonal vegetables dipped in garlic sauce. The waiter left the table and I found that Simar was still waiting for me to acknowledge her previous suggestion.
‘Yes, they are tequila shots.’
She clapped her hands and demanded, ‘I want to have those shots!’
She was already one drink down and in the middle of her second glass of beer.
‘No, dear,’ I persuaded her. ‘This is the last one and you shouldn’t mix two different drinks.’
On the one hand, I smiled at her as I told her to take it easy while on the other hand, I was worried about the reaction of the people in the restaurant. I tried my best to explain to her that we were in a public place and we should maintain decorum.
Without saying a single word she nodded. It was a big enough nod that her head tilted all the way back and then came down; three times in sequence, after which she pulled up her feet on to the sofa and relaxed. I somehow managed to control my laughter and struggled with two different thoughts.
In that very moment she was provoking me to love her and in that same moment she was pissing me off.
‘Simar, take your feet off the sofa and sit properly!’ I almost shouted at her.
‘Shhhhhhh!!!!’ she hushed with a finger on her tightly closed lips. ‘We are in a public place, Ravin. Don’t shout.’ And she closed her eyes and relaxed for a while. She was thoroughly enjoying the essence of her drink.
This was enough time for me to take her glass back. She revolted. I still managed to take it away. Then for a while I kept her involved in conversation. I wanted to divert her attention, so that she would get a little serious. I talked to her about her MBA programme. She didn’t get into the details and ended up saying that all was going well. I talked about her friends and she said they were all nice human beings. Under the influence of alcohol, she only had such positive answers to all my questions.
I was in the middle of talking to her when all of a sudden one blunder occurred. She got a call on her mobile. It was from her mother.
She showed me her mobile and all I could say was, ‘Shit!’ Simar was not in a condition to talk to her mother. For her mother, I was sure, didn’t think that Simar could ever dare to booze.
I was watching Simar. It seemed as if a part of her brain was alert to the upcoming danger, while another part had failed to realize what was happening.
As the phone continued to ring, pressure mounted in my brain. Simar in one instance was worried and in the other instance laughed at my panic. In her drunken state of mind she had somehow mistaken her mother to be my mother. So she started laughing, wondering how I would talk to my mom while I was drunk. I had a feeling that by now the bartenders who were watching us carefully were thinking that we had actually gone nuts. In panic I quickly looked carefully for the button to turn her phone silent. One full ring and we didn’t pick up the call. The very next moment it rang again. I told Simar to sit calmly and to not go anywhere. Then I went out to the gallery and disconnected the call. I then quickly jotted down her mom’s cell number and switched off Simar’s phone. I had a plan in my mind.
I called up her mom from my cellphone. I had already spoken to Aunty in the past when Simar had introduced me to her. That actually worked in my favour.
‘Hello Aunty!’ I said.
‘Hello Ravin. How are you?’ she asked.
‘I am good, Aunty. Aaa … uh … Simar called me up just now from her friend’s cellphone,’ I continued, desperately trying to cook up a story.
‘Yes,’ she answered. ‘I was trying her just now but for some reason she didn’t pick up her call?’ She appeared curious.
‘Yes, yes, Aunty, that’s why she called me. Her phone was low on battery and as soon as she picked up your call it switched off. She is out at a party with her college friends and she told me that she will call you tomorrow morning,’ I lied.
‘Oh, okay … Yes, it rang twice but then when I tried again I got to know that her phone is switched off.’
‘Yes, Aunty, that’s why she called me from her friend’s mobile.’
‘That’s okay, beta. How are you otherwise?’ she checked.
I breathed a sigh of relief and went on lying some more. ‘I am good, Aunty. I have a conference call with my India office people so I need to rush.’ In truth, I wanted to rush back and check on Simar.
In this world where it is difficult to handle one woman, I was handling two at the same time. Worse still, it was a mother–daughter combo!
As soon as I had finished the call I ran back to the dining hall where I soon realized that my troubles were not yet over. Simar was missing from her seat. She was at the bar!
Two little empty glasses of tequilas were rolling on the bar stand right in front of Simar. She was busy licking the lemon slice with a pinch of salt. I immediately rushed to her. Now she was at the peak of being drunk. She was hardly able to open her eyes. I gave an angry look to the bartender and shouted, ‘Why did you serve her?’ But that was all I could do. They weren’t wrong in serving her. After all, she was a patron. Also, how would they have known that it was the first time Simar was drinking alcohol! For all the problems I had faced I now wanted to make it her last day of boozing.
By now the food that I had ordered had arrived, but I had lost my appetite completely. Moreover, Simar wasn’t in a condition to eat. In her semi-conscious state she had remembered to check with me about my mother and whether I managed to fool her properly!
I helped Simar in getting off the high barstool she was sitting on. ‘Let’s have some food. You must be hungry.’
Back in her seat she rested her head against the back of the couch. She was hardly able to keep her eyes open when she said, ‘I am not hungry at all, baby.’
Later she started murmuring something. She was pleasantly talking to herself and would occasionally mutter something to me. I looked at her regretfully, thinking that had I handled the situation better and not let her get this drunk we could have had a pleasant evening. We had created enough of a scene by now and almost everyone in the restaurant had taken note of what my girlfriend was up to. I wanted to leave and therefore asked the waiter to take back the meal and pack it as a takeaway for me.
All the while Simar continued to mutter things to me, intermittently opening and shutting her eyes.
She first asked me what had happened to her and whether she was safe and all right. I held her hand in mine and said, ‘You are drunk, Simar, but you are safe. You shouldn’t have had those tequilas without asking me,’ I expressed my displeasure mildly.
Her mind only partly registered what I was saying and she then went into another spell of sleep. The next time she woke up she complained of her head spinning. I insisted that she talk to me and not sleep. She agreed and looked into my eyes. Then she smiled and said, ‘You look so cute, Ravz.’ After many moments of anxiety and nervousness with her crazy antics, she brought a smile to my face.
‘Can I eat your cute nose?’ she flirted with me. I smiled at her and ignored her compliment.
The waiter was taking long to get my parcel and the bill. I asked someone at the bar to hurry it up. I wanted to leave as soon as possible. Right then Simar decided to announce, in her funny kiddish tone, ‘Ravz, I need to go to the loo.’
‘Hmmm … All right, there it is.’ I raised my hand to show her the ladies’ room and thought it would be a great way to reduce the alcohol effect in her body. But then here was the bomb.
‘But I want to go with you!’ she said.
‘What? Ha! Ha!’ I laughed at her frankness.
‘You want me to help you till the door?’ I offered.
‘Not just the door, baby.’ And she forced open her eyes to look at me.
‘Then?’ I said and pulled myself back.
She took a moment to compose her thoughts and then said, ‘Let’s go and pee together.’
I bit my tongue in my mouth. For a split second I visualized myself with her peeing in the same loo. Then I stepped back and visualized myself entering the women’s room with a whole bunch of ladies staring at me. I visualized their scandalized reactions. The terror of those thoughts had actually set the pressure within me to pee.
But I could see that all Simar wanted me to do was what she expected out of me. And their seemed to be little doubt in her mind that I would do it.
‘
Ravzzzzzzz! Bolo na, Ravz!
’ she insisted.
‘No, sweetheart, this isn’t right.’
‘
Kyu nahi Ravz?
’ she demanded, not ready to accept my answer.
I didn’t answer her and after waiting for a while she yelled like a kid ‘
Bolo-o-o-o-o!!
’ And when I still didn’t answer she continued pressurizing me, ‘
Bol, kyu nahi aa rahe ho tum Ravz?
’
I still didn’t respond.
My facial expressions conveyed that I hadn’t liked what she was doing. She calmed down for a few moments and then kicked me hard under the table with her boots.
‘Ouch!’ I screamed, first looking at my knee and then at Simar, wondering what she was up to.
I waited for her to apologize. Instead she smiled. It wasn’t worth explaining to a drunken girlfriend about what not to do. I gave up.
‘Ravz, if you aren’t coming, I may do it in my jeans!’
This new threat scared the hell out of me. There was no way I could talk her out of this one.
I got up from my chair, held her hand and pulled her up. As I walked beside her, I was conscious of people staring at us. We walked from the extreme left of the dining hall to the extreme right, making our way past circular dining tables with people enjoying their food and talking about us.
As soon as Simar uttered ‘Ravz’ again, I forced her not to talk. ‘Shhhh! Calm down! You are too loud.’
‘But Ravz …’
‘Shhhh!!!! Simar, shut up. Don’t create a scene!’
As we were approaching the ladies’ room, in my mind I was already preparing myself for further public embarrassment. I put my hand on Simar’s shoulder to help her balance herself on her feet.
At the door of the restroom Simar went inside first. A huge sense of awkwardness froze my feet. I couldn’t follow her. The best I could do was to wish that Simar would do the needful and come out quickly. But when she was inside she started shouting, ‘
Ravin, tum cheating kar rahe ho, na!
’
I struggled between going in to calm her down and staying outside to save myself some embarrassment. I forced myself to believe that she wasn’t audible to the others.
‘
Monsieur!!
…
Monsieur!!
’ came a voice from behind me. I turned back to see a lady from the staff.
‘Yes?’ I asked and she understood that I was comfortable with English.
‘Sir, our customers are having problems with your demeanour,’ she said in her Chinese accent.
All right, so this was the beginning of my further embarrassment! I didn’t know what to say. In India I would have simply offered 100 bucks for her to leave us alone.
‘
Ravin-n-n-n-n-n!!!!!!!!!
’ Simar screamed again from inside.
The lady threw her hands in the air, wondering what Simar was doing. This was enough of chaos for me. I looked back at the people in the restaurant. All eyes were on me. My reputation was no longer at stake. I think I had none by now!