Losing My Virginity and Other Dumb Ideas (28 page)

‘How do you know?’ I asked in Spanish.

‘I read you face,’ she said in broken English. I was intrigued. Not one to believe in the hocus-pocus that astrology, numerology, tarot, etc. claimed to be, I could not help wonder if she could predict my future. Why is it that even if you never want to know about this occult science, someone, somewhere, draws you in.

‘I read your cards.’ The woman said, now in Spanish. And I surrendered to the mysticism that was about to be unfolded. She looked like a gypsy. She had these extremely dog-eared, faded cards that looked nothing like the tarot cards from cool boxes sold in bookstores. She took them out and asked me to pick a few. She didn’t ask for my name, my age, or anything. She just pondered over them for some time and spoke in halted sentences. ‘You look for love.’

Well, yes, I thought, but so do most people.

‘You found love once, but you lost him. He was not right. You will find love again.’ Predictable, but promising.

‘You will find love in Barcelona,’ she continued to stare at my face while holding my hand.

I kept quiet. That did not make any sense at all! I was leaving in a week. And knowing my nature, I would never give my heart to someone so quickly. But I smiled and said, ‘Will he be a prince, with lots of money?’

She dismissed my question and continued, ‘You will marry him. And you will take him back to India. Because it is through you that he can go back home. And it is through him that you will find true love.’

‘True Love?’ I asked. ‘What is that?’ I asked, with great sincerity.

‘It is something that blows your mind away. And lets your heart make all the wrong decisions!’ she said prophetically and laughed knowingly.

‘Oh!’ I said with intent, ‘Ya, I’ve already had that. Don’t worry. I’ll be aware of it the next time it happens.’ I said with a wink.

She did not smile. She only said, ‘Love never happens just once. It happens many times. The real relationship you will ever have … that is called true love … is the one you already have with yourself. The other love with men … that just makes you feel better in the day!’ She explained in broken English.

That did not make sense. But I smiled and gave her the money she wanted and walked away. I would know what it meant very soon.

I knew I should not have listened to all that mumbo jumbo because, for the rest of the evening in my hotel, it was playing in my head. So I decided to take myself out for a birthday drink and landed up at Las Ramblas. I walked the street where there were street musicians, live mimes, cartoon sketch artists, florists, cafés, restaurants and a vibe that made me feel alive and happy suddenly. I stopped to hear a band play an old song, bought myself a single long red rose and headed to a pub that overlooked the waterfront. I felt completely kicked. I put my rose on the table and tied my hair into a ponytail. It was quite warm for an April night and I desperately needed a glass of wine. The waiter came up to me and I ordered a whole bottle for myself.

‘Will the gentleman be joining you?’ he asked. I looked confused.

‘The one who has given you this beautiful flower?’ he stated.

I laughed and said, ‘No, no, I just got it for myself since it’s my birthday and … uh, never mind!’

‘Oh, then happy birthday,’ he said, and went away in a hurry. I thought that was rude. But he quickly came back with a bottle of wine and said, ‘On the house. Happy birthday!’

That made my day. Here was a total stranger who didn’t owe me anything, and he just made me feel that I was special. Later on, after a few hours had passed and I had almost finished my bottle of wine and the restaurant seemed more deserted, the waiter came to me and asked, ‘Another bottle, senora?’

‘Senorita,’ I corrected, very tipsy, cheery, ‘I’m still unmarried. And according to a woman in a park, I should be with a prince!’

‘Well, that makes me even more happy,’ he flirted.

‘No more wine, thank you, just the bill,’ I said, and looked away towards the road where there were a bunch of college kids singing and teasing each other as they passed the window. He went away and got me a small slice of cake.

‘Oh, thank you so much!’ I exclaimed, with sheer delight. ‘That was very sweet of you.’

‘I am also from India,’ he said to my surprise.

I looked flabbergasted, ‘How did you know I was from India?’

‘It is the colour of your eyes, ‘he explained. ‘They say a lot. They say that you belong to an exotic country and it can only be India. And also, you have the most beautiful laugh I’ve ever heard in a woman.’

Then suddenly, I became a little defensive. After all, I was drunk. And I was alone in this new country and this man seemed to know too many things about me. ‘Look,’ I said a little abruptly, ‘I’m not interested … I just wanted to have dinner. So I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression or anything.’ I started trying to give him an explanation while finding money in my wallet.

‘Senorita, please don’t be offended. I will go away right now and never bother you again if you say so.’ And then he looked at me with wide eyes and said, ‘But please don’t say so!’ and laughed.

I smiled. He was so charming. He was a young boy who could not have been more than twenty-five years old. But he had shoulder length dark curly hair that he tied in a low ponytail and a trimmed French beard that made his blue eyes sparkle. As I noticed him with greater attention, I saw that he had a slim body that was not too muscular. Fit. Sinewy. Strong. His arm had some bruises that had healed and faded. He was unconventionally good looking. He wore distressed jeans and a white Armani shirt. And his smell? Polo. Ralph Lauren. Fresh. Attractive. Young. So desirable.

A little voice in my head said, ‘It’s okay if you want to be with someone. Stop judging people. And they won’t judge you.’

‘Well, what’s your name?’ I asked a little flirtatiously.

‘Ray,’ he said, while sitting down at the table next to me.

‘Well Ray, do you flirt with all your customers or is it a promotional policy from the management?’ I asked.

‘Oh! Flirt? This is not flirting. This is just conversation. You should see me flirt!’ he exclaimed with a smile.

I laughed as he poured some more wine into my glass.

‘Okay, show me!’ I said daringly. I had begun to like this boy. He then rose and went to the back of the restaurant from where he brought out a guitar. He came back and sat at my table and began to sing! This boy was serenading me in a restaurant with his deep, beautiful voice in a language that was as rich as the dark chocolate cake in front of me.

When he finished, a few people clapped along with me and he got up and bowed to the other tables. He turned to me and said, ‘Well, does that impress you enough to go out with me?’

I shrug my shoulders and said, ‘Eh, not too impressed!’

He then got down on one knee, and for a moment I was stunned. I had a déjà vu. I had once told Arjun that I wanted to be proposed to on bended knees, like the Mills and Boon stories I had read, in an exotic location in front of the whole world. And here I was, getting that from a complete stranger. So what if it wasn’t for marriage. It meant something larger in my head.

Instantly, I panicked and got up. I mumbled an apology and ran from that restaurant. My head was filled with thoughts about how I didn’t want to be led astray by another man and how I didn’t want to give out any more vibes that I’m readily available again for marriage.

The next morning I woke up feeling guilty for my rudeness. So instead of walking around to explore more of Antoni Gaudi’s works or the city itself, I found myself pulled back to that little restaurant. I wanted to see that waiter again. It wasn’t because I was attracted to him, honestly we would have nothing in common, it was because I wanted to tell him I was sorry for my dismissive behaviour the previous night. But he was nowhere to be found.

I went up to the manager who was standing at the front of the restaurant writing something on a piece of paper and asked him, ‘Excuse me.’

He looked up and said, ‘Si?’

I had forgotten his name so I was struggling with the words, ‘This might seem like a weird question … but do you know where that waiter from last night is? He is skinny, dark hair, cute …’

‘Ahh Ray. Yes, he has gone to do his day job.’

‘His day job?’

‘Yes, he only works at nights here. Evening shift, you know.’

‘Okay,’ I tried to make sense of this and what was even more puzzling was why I wanted to pursue this.

‘He is a tour guide for Barcelona buses.’

I wanted to apologize, so I went off to find the tour buses and say goodbye. When I got to the Barcelona tour bus origin, I could see he was hanging around with a few other bus operators smoking a cigarette. He didn’t look that skinny today. He looked fresh, as if his face had been scrubbed and his hair caught the sunlight and shone. He didn’t seem that old, but his self assurance could be seen in his confident body language. He saw me from a distance and started walking towards me. He flicked his cigarette into the waterfront as he approached me.

‘Hola, Senorita,’ he said smiling, but a little distant.

‘Hola, Ray,’ I said.

We stood there in silence. Obviously it was my turn to speak and I didn’t know what to say.

‘Why are you here?’ he asked, before I could speak. I took a moment to answer. He tilted his head to one side and I could see how gorgeous he was. His mop of shiny hair left loose today and those piercing blue eyes made me feel inadequate and it was strange. I was an independent, strong woman.

‘I wanted to apologize for my behaviour yesterday. I am generally not like that. I have become very guarded … Can we start over?’ I trailed off, and then I put my hand out and said, ‘I’m Kaveri.’

He kept quiet and then took his hand out and said, ‘Hi, I’m Ray.’

‘I know,’ I said. ‘You told me last night.’

‘Yes. But I wanted to make a new impression. I wanted to start afresh, Kaveri.’ He said my name with a roll in the ‘r’ and I liked it. So I smiled.

‘You smile. Will you run away again? Because yesterday you were smiling and then you ran away. I didn’t know I sang that badly!’ he looked shocked and offended.

‘No, no, Ray,’ I said, and gently put my hand on his arm. ‘You sing beautifully. In fact, you are the most beautiful singer I know.’

‘In looks?’ he teased. I blushed. What was happening to me?

‘That too.’ I said, and pulled my hand away from him.

He caught it and held it gently. We started walking towards the sea front. This was so new and yet felt so familiar to me. This warm assurance. The soft hand. The comfortable silence. I forgot he was a stranger. I forgot he was younger. Way younger. I forgot he was a waiter and a bus driver. I forgot, because he seemed to be so much more. From so much planning in my life I had come upon this moment where, for the first time, I didn’t know what would happen or how I would react. And then I thought about it. I suppressed my heart and thought about it.

I let go of those stupid notions in my head of an ideal man. The perfect love. So what if he wasn’t an intellectual who could teach me art. So what if he wasn’t brown skinned and from my motherland and who understood my customs. So what if he wasn’t tall, dark and handsome like a model. So what if he was younger. These things did not seem to matter right now.

‘Did I tell you I was named because my mother saw a ray of light the first thing she opened her eyes after she delivered me?’ he said looking down at me. He was almost my height. But I rested my head on his shoulder and it seemed he was taller.

I had always gone with my heart instead of my head. I had loved Arjun with all my heart and had lost my head. And I had loved Karan and Aaron with my heart to blur out my head. But for the first time my head and my heart were telling me that this was the right thing. ‘You know, Ray,’ I said, feeling very romantic, ‘I think I want to know more about you.’

‘Whatever you want, my senorita,’ he said, while kissing my hand and walking.

And somewhere right then, I knew that there was a prophecy that was beckoning, and a plane ticket I needed to reschedule.

But at the time, all I said was, ‘Can I buy you a cup of coffee, Ray?’

I thought I’d be giving an Oscar speech one day and start by saying, ‘I’d like to thank God and my parents … blah blah blah.’ But since that hasn’t happened so far and my parents have got tired of waiting, I thought I should add a note to them:

Thanks, Mom and Dad, for being my unending support (and ATM), way past my formative years. I love you both dearly.

And also …

Sunaman—Thanks for letting me take my time to write a book that I promised I would ten years ago and for letting me be who I am for the entire time together.

Dadu—Thanks for knowing I can write and encouraging me from far.

Ariaana—My sweetest treasure. You’ve given me a new way of looking at life. I love you the most in the whole world! I attempt to make you proud of me everyday and will do so till I die.

Ani—I know we’ve always dreamt of being famous together, but bro, I’m ahead of you! Love you always.

Parikshit—We don’t need the words. I’m grateful to God for giving me that one studio where you walked into my life …

Bharati—Thanks for all the magical ‘getaways’ that helped me write this book. You inspire me to be a better writer, a stronger person and a greater human being. Without you, this book would not have taken shape. I’ll love you always, with all my heart.

Vaishali—I’m so happy that my first manuscript landed in your lap. You’re more than a great editor, you’re a lovely friend.

My in-laws and Arindam—You’re the best family a girl could have. The fact that you’re so proud of me at all the Delhi parties gives a huge boost to my ego! Thank you.

Neha—You’re the best sister in the world. Truly. Honestly.

To everyone who asked me the question, ‘What are you doing with your life nowadays?’ And to which I replied, ‘I’m writing a book.’ I’d like to say thanks for the knowing smile. It encouraged me further.

PENGUIN BOOKS

Published by the Penguin Group
Penguin Books India Pvt. Ltd, 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi 110 017, India
Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA
Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario, M4P 2Y3, Canada (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.) Penguin Books Ltd, 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
Penguin Ireland, 25 St Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd)
Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty Ltd)
Penguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, North Shore 0632, New Zealand (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd)
Penguin Group (South Africa) (Pty) Ltd, 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa