Someone Like You (4 page)

It has been a long day, but I have no complaints. I look at the mirror and I am amazed at myself. I am getting more and more self-obsessed and now I think I can spend quite a few days with myself. I feel like the girls I had always hated because they were good-looking and desirable and spent time grooming themselves instead of doing complex math problems.

I am still sifting through all the clothes that we bought today and I keep on trying them repeatedly. I love my new clothes! They love me back and it’s an exhilarating feeling. I never realized before that new clothes could make one feel so good.

‘We are late. So damn late,’ Simran shouts but I turn a deaf ear to her. She tells me that Viraat is already waiting outside the hostel and that we need to hurry up, though I don’t hear Simran’s phone ring even once. It surprises me how patient Viraat is.

We get into our dresses and I have to say I am a little uncomfortable in what Simran has made me wear. It’s a blazing red dress that ends mid-thigh and clings to my body and if Simran is to be believed, it looks titillating and seductive on me. I am not sure I want to be what she says I am. I try to pull it down as I stand in front of the mirror and she pushes me away.

‘Will you stop doing that? For heaven’s sake. You will destroy it,’ Simran says. ‘And for the millionth freaking time—it’s
not
short.’

‘But it is,’ I protest.

‘I am not even listening to you any more.’

After Simran’s demonstration of ‘how to apply make-up in ten minutes,’ we leave and find Viraat waiting for us outside the hostel. He drives an old, beaten-down, red Alto and I am somewhat disappointed again. I know Simran loves him, but it’s still hard for me to accept that she would settle for such an average guy. I hate the way I think, but I can’t help it. Simran has always been the girl with a perfect life, and Viraat, at least in his material and tangible characteristics, is far from perfect.

‘Oh, hi, both of you,’ he stares at us for a while. ‘You look amazing.’

‘Thank you,’ we echo.

He tells us that he talked to a few of his friends and we are going to a new club that has opened very recently. Throughout the drive, his phone buzzes incessantly and he keeps mentioning names of his friends who will be there too. I feel a little odd now. I am in a dress, considerably shorter than anything I have ever worn, and am going to be amongst strangers. It’s not the best feeling ever.

On the way, Viraat tells me how Simran and he started dating, despite protests from a blushing Simran. He tells me that Simran had always intimidated him by her presence and how he had an instant crush on her when he first saw her. It was six months back and he still remembers everything Simran has ever said or worn every time they have met. It was not until two months back that Simran asked Viraat out.

‘
You
asked
him
out?’ I ask Simran, shocked.

‘Yes, I did. I had no option. We used to go everywhere, but we always used to have friends around us. He has a
lot
of friends, as you’ll see this evening. He just used to stare and say nice things about me to my friends. I had started liking him. Oh, and we used to text all the time, but the moment we were together, he used to shut up and turn very shy. It freaked me out.’

‘What did you do?’ I ask, now deep into their story.

‘I kissed him,’ Simran says and they both laugh.

‘
What?
Really? Where?’

‘We were waiting for a few friends to see a movie and just like every time, he sat there and looked everywhere except at me. I tried talking to him but he would not say a thing. Then I just asked him to at least look at me. And when he did, I bent over and kissed him for what seemed like an eternity.’

‘You did that?’ I ask, picturing the scene in my head.

‘Oh, yeah! Your sister is crazier than you think,’ Viraat says. ‘And really, I was shocked at first. And then, it hit me.
Simran had kissed me
. The thought gives me goose-bumps even now.’

‘Aww,’ Simran and I echo, as Simran puts her arm around his shoulder.

It’s already eleven in the night and the roads are more or less free of traffic. We reach the club soon, though I don’t want the drive to end. Simran’s seemingly perfect love story with the imperfect guy, Viraat, has me at the edge of my seat. I never realized before that I am such a romantic at heart.

We enter the club—lit dimly with red and blue lights which hang from the ceiling—and music blasts into our ears almost immediately. I don’t mind it. I love music and I have wasted days and days locked up in my room dancing to every crass, filthy song or item number that caught my fancy. I am not a very party person, as I have never felt the need to, but to see heads turn towards the two of us makes me regret all the times I have turned such plans down before.

As we go inside and hide behind Viraat, who goes on a hugging spree, embracing everyone from bouncers to managers to a million different friends, I look at him intently for the first time. It’s almost strange how drastically he has changed in my mind since this morning. He looks good to me now. In fact, he looks handsome. He looks like someone I would proudly make my friends meet. And that’s just because he is so sweet to my sister. I think I really like him. And in a certain corner of my heart, I see Viraat and Simran together for a very long time. They are
meant
to be together.

I am falling progressively more in love with the kind of person Viraat is, when I notice something else about him and smile. He doesn’t let any of his guy friends around me and doesn’t allow any conversation to last beyond the first few sentences. He firmly turns down anyone who offers me a drink; I think he has sensed that I am not comfortable.

‘So, Niharika,’ he says. ‘Do you like Delhi?’

‘Yes, I do. Very much so. I didn’t think I would, but I do,’ I beam at him.

‘That’s great. And—I am sorry for all my friends who are hitting on you. It’s not really their fault.’

‘Are they hitting on me? Why?’

‘As if you don’t know! You look very nice, Niharika,’ he says and shows me about ten texts from different guys on his cell phone, all asking him about me.

‘Whoa! I think I like this place. And frankly speaking, I have never really got any attention from anyone. Ever,’ I confess. ‘This is all very new to me.’

‘You’re joking, right? You’re Simran’s sister, after all. You were bound to look like you do,’ he says and looks at Simran.

‘Flirt,’ Simran says and punches his arm.

‘You mind?’ he asks.

‘Yes. It’s my sister, you pervert. You’re flirting with her right in front of me.’

‘What? I thought I was flirting with
you
,’ he says, making a funny face.

‘Such a smooth talker, you are,’ Simran smiles and shakes her head.

He comes forward and pecks her on the lips. ‘Now if you’ll excuse me, I need a refill and the waiters here are busy ignoring me. You want anything?’

‘You want me drunk?’ Simran asks.

‘Well, let’s just say—I like you drunk,’ Viraat says with a wink.

As Viraat moves off, I see Simran’s eyes following him. She’s looking at him with an expression of pure adoration on her face. I say what I’m thinking. ‘When I met him in the morning, for a moment, I had thought you were one of those girls who change in front of guys. But you’re just the same. You swear a lot and you really give him a hard time.’

‘I don’t need to change. He likes me the way I am. And that’s the best part about him. You like him?’

‘I like him? I love him! He is so nice. It’s almost unreal.’

‘I know,’ she says, looking at my face intently. ‘I wanted you to like him. I was nervous that you wouldn’t. I really wanted you to meet him.’

A lot has changed since the morning. I see no reason why Simran should be nervous. What is there
not
to like? The guy is perfect. If I make a list with bullet points for qualities I’d look for in a guy, every point would be a tick for him. Plus, just as a bonus, Simran told me this morning that he is very passionate and is an amazing kisser.

Simran looks away from and in the direction of Viraat; she is lost again. Her smile is dazzling. Wow. Sometimes I forget how beautiful she is. It is times like these when the fact hits me straight in the face and leaves me reeling with the impact.

‘You really love him, don’t you?’ I ask stupidly. If you could see the look on her face, you would realize the futility of the question I just asked.

‘Yes,’ she smiles sweetly. Her face has that
at peace
look. Like she’s happy to the core of her heart. Blissful. She goes on, ‘It’s not about how great he is. It’s about how great we are together. It’s the fact that I love him. I don’t think I am ever going to get enough of him. He just makes me go
wow
every single day that I have been with him.’

We stop talking as Viraat walks back towards us. Suddenly, from a short, average-looking guy he turns into a legitimate superstar walking towards two star-struck fans. She is looking at him as he comes back, with nothing but love in her eyes. Fairytale-ish love. The kind of pure, unconditional love that does not actually exist. Except, sometimes, it does. I can see it in the dreamy expression on her face.

I want this
, I decide. It’s not really something you can decide, actually. It’s not like you have an option. If you witness such a thing, you’re
bound
to want it. I want my very own Viraat, someone who will sweep me off my feet, wait for me for an hour while I get ready, drive me across the city in his small, broken car and be nice to my sister. I want it. And I want it quick.

I envy her. It’s not like I resent her awesomeness or happiness. I love her, yes, more than I love anybody else in the world, probably, including myself. But I hate her almost equally for being so perfect. It’s something siblings always have. At least we both do. Pure and unadulterated envy. Now that I look at her, she is the happiest I have ever seen her. I like this. And since she has it, I want it too. It’s simple, right? I send a mental prayer to heaven—
give me this. Please, give me this too.

‘What are you guys talking about?’ Viraat asks as he takes his seat.

‘You,’ I say.

‘Really? Did she tell you that I’m a good kisser? Or did she just tell you that I am too average-looking to be her guy?’ he asks me.

‘Doesn’t matter what she said. I think you’re hot,’ I laugh.

‘I think I like your sister better, Simran,’ he says and looks at her.

‘How mean!’ Simran punches him playfully.

Viraat whispers something in her ear and makes her giggle. I have never seen her do that before, and I am a little surprised. I start to blush a little and look away. I decide to concentrate on my drink, and as I turn to it, I notice that mine is a different colour from theirs. Were they serious about getting drunk? I don’t want to seem prudish, but I can’t help asking either. ‘Simran, is that … alcohol?’

‘What?’ she looks up at me, pushing Viraat away and turning towards me.

‘Are you guys drinking?’ I repeat. I have always hated drinking and people who drink. It has never appealed to me or made sense to me.

‘Yes, it’s Long Island Iced Tea. You should try it some time, too. It’s really nice.’

‘Are you serious? When did you start drinking?’

‘What do you mean? What is wrong with drinking?’ Simran asks.

‘What is not? I can’t believe this …’

‘Relax, okay? I drink because I like to drink. And it’s perfectly okay. Grow up already.’

‘Growing up doesn’t mean I need to—’ I begin, but Viraat cuts me off.

‘Hey, hey, hey. Girls! Chill a little bit. Niharika, it’s okay to drink sometimes …’

‘What do you mean? Are you taking her side?’ I ask, looking pointedly at the drink in his hand.

He puts his glass down and puts his hands up in the air in surrender. ‘Fine. Not drinking any more. Alright?’

I turn to look at Simran’s glass.

‘You’re not scaring me, Niharika. I’m not going to put it down,’ Simran challenges.

‘What is wrong with you? Drinking is bad!’ I blurt out. ‘Tell her, Viraat. Tell her not to drink.’

‘Niharika, even if I do tell her that, you know that she’s not going to listen, right? You know your sister,’ Viraat says and Simran smirks.

‘But—’ I begin to protest.

‘Hold on. I was saying that I can’t make her stop it, but I can promise you one thing. That if she drinks too much, I will take care of her. You can trust me on that. So, quit worrying, okay?’

I nod meekly, completely convinced by what he says.

And from then on, the evening starts to change for the better. There’s awesome food, awesome music and awesome company. Well, awesome drinks too, but since I don’t drink, I hardly care. I also notice that despite the protests she made, Simran eventually did discard her drink. It makes me happy. Other people join us after a while, friends of Simran and Viraat. And again, Viraat ensures that no guy tries anything on me. But for once in my life, I don’t feel out of place. Even though everyone here is worlds apart from what I am, they make me feel like I’m one of them. Even the short, red dress feels okay.

As the night draws to a close, and I sit sprawled awkwardly on the couch because my feet hurt, I look in the direction of Viraat and Simran. They are in the middle of the dance floor, Simran’s arms around his neck and his arms on her waist and they are swaying together slowly and totally out of tune with the music. It’s like the world has just the two of them in it and the music that is playing in their heads is all that matters to them.

I see Simran close her eyes and rest her head on Viraat. I wonder what she is dreaming about.

I wonder if I will ever feel the same.