Marrying my mistake

Ishani's POV

I picked my golden hair straightening iron and straightened my waist length black hair for the third time, damning the humidity. I look at my black eye-shadow which is already a bit smudged but the beauty of Smokey eyes is that it always looks good even when it's smudged.

I am getting late for the diwali office party, every year Percept Advertising throws an awesome party complete with cards, roulette tables and lots of alcohol. I look at the mirror and retouch my fuchsia lipstick and put on a big bindi to match my pink and blue floor length anarkali. My seamstress has done an awesome job.

I walk outside, to my balcony and ring the wind chimes on the next window and Neil puts his head out, "are you ready at last?," he sounds irritated. "Take out the car I will be down in two," I reply while locking the balcony doors.

I grabbed my gold clutch and add some mints, a pack of cigarettes, my lipstick, my phone and home keys.

I run downstairs to kiss maa and papa goodnight and tell them the usual, I have the keys and might be late. "Neil is with you, so I'm not worried," says my conservative mother. Her eyes glued to the latest saas bahu serial on the telly while cutting some vegetable methodically.

I hear the car honking impatiently, as I sit in the car quickly and turn to face Neil. "Dapper! Where did you find this kurta pyjama?," I ask. Neil is wearing a beige raw silk kurta pyjama with a blue silk Modi jacket, his hair gelled to perfection.

"Mom got this for me for meeting girls. You are late and the traffic will be maddening," he grumbles.

Neil's mom much like mine wants to get his son 'settled' in an arrange marriage, produce children and live happily ever after. I think this is one common dream all Indian mothers have.

After an hour of crawling in heavy Delhi traffic we reach the outer areas of Delhi. Here the landscape shifts from small houses to sprawling farmhouses where the rich and famous of Delhi party. There is a red light and I spot a wine and beer shop, "I'm thirsty. How about a beer?" Neil scowls like most Indian boys, he doesn't like women getting drunk.

As Neil parks the car on the curb and gets a few cans of chilled beers, I think the traffic has annoyed him enough to get alcohol so soon. I open one and take a slug before offering it to him. Ahh! Cold liquid gold, beer has become a great time for most of my friends.

Neil being the gentleman refused and me being the persistent idiot offers it to him again after a few sips. The cool beer relaxes me. Uncharacteristically, Neil grabs the can and finished it in one go. I fiddle with the radio to put on some dance numbers and chittiyan kallaiyan, my current favourite is playing. It will set the mood for the party I'm looking forward to.

Office parties are great to connect but card parties are better. I love winning at card parties and usually me and Neil sit on the same table and cheat to win. It's our thing. Much like clanking the wind chimes and getting almost adjoining balcony rooms in our houses to chat.

Neil has been like a friend but much more than that he has been the constant supporter. Like my joining advertising or his unwillingness to settle. Being neighbors has allowed us to meddle in each others families. Not that our parents don't meddle in our lives.

In fact his mother and mine are best gossip machines of the society complex we both reside in much like our fathers who are drinking partners. For me Neil's house has been much like mine, and our friendship has strengthened because of living next door. I opened another pint and want to smoke but Neil still doesn't know about my new habit and I'm sure he would turn the car back. So much for support.

We reach the party and it is already in it's full form. The party is at a farm house and some special events company has done the place par excellence for the occasion. As Neil handed the keys to his Audi to a valet parking guy, I adjusted my hair and felt a bit high.

The decor is beautiful there are lamps, candles, diyas adding a romantic effect in the sprawling lawns. One corner has a huge bar. There are tables to play poker, roulette and other card games. There is a DJ playing latest Bollywood tracks and I spot my coworkers dancing merrily.

Neil came to my side, "this is why you love your job. Most of your friends are drunk and happy." I offered him my brightest smile and took his arm to meet my boss, Disha. Disha was an ex-model and still looked perfect, she dresses like one occasionally. Today she is wearing a dull gold bikini blouse with a orange saree. Her hair were in her signature chignon and kohl lined her eyes. "Hello Disha! The party looks awesome. Meet Neil," I smiled.

"Ohh, yes it is. Did you get the welcome drink and paan? Is he your fiancé?," asked Disha and she took Neil's hand and shook it. Neil uncomfortably replied, "no, we are just friends." With a twinkle in her eye Disha replied, "sure," she picked up a small glass from a silver platter a waiter was carrying. The glass had a green mousse with some red tutti-fruti on top and offered one each to us and took one for her self.

We all finished it in one go and it was yummy. It tasted of paan and had this delicious vanilla flavour on top. I took another one as Disha left. Neil got our glasses of champagne and we smiled goofily as he said, "fiancée let's go".

My gang at work was 6 of us who worked closely there was the office clown Sid, then the cutest gay couple on the planet Ajay and vishal, my girlfriends in office Lata and Reet. As soon as I joined them they all welcomed me and Neil.

Cocktails flowed and we danced to the latest numbers. I was still having those paan glasses and felt a bit high. The high kinds where you move around without really dancing. I got off the floor and went and perched on a stool at the bar. "what can I get you lady?," the bartender enquired. A glass of cold water, I replied without looking up as I lit my Marlboro light with the pretty pink lighter studded with sawroski that Lata gifted me.

I sipped my water feeling clearer as I puffed my cigarette. I finished the water and saw my group was still dancing. I turned back and saw Neil coming towards me with two huge yellow and orange cocktails. I quickly stubbed the cigarette, "Your boss gave them to me. Let's share."

We both drowned the lemony orange concoction and it hit me hard.