Attachments

Chapter 5

I had to meet The Darshan Raval, the next morning, and I was determined to show up extremely late. If he had the nerve to cut the call on my face, I had all it took to make him wait for me; tit for tat!

At 08.15 a.m., the girls gathered in the living room, dressed up in formals while I wandered around the pocket-sized kitchen in my cotton pajamas with my hair tossed into a messy bun, stirring a mixture of coffee. Nash dumped her DSLR inside her backpack, while Vaish dusted her guitar-case with a piece of cloth and Chanch sat on the edge of the couch with a swollen, sick face and read through a set of notes; all of them looked extremely tired and annoyed, like they were on the verge of having their nerves snapped, or something of that sort. The gloominess was glaring on their faces; it was obvious that life raced ahead of them and they chased life, dedicatedly.

Around ten minutes later, Chanch strolled towards the kitchen, keeping her gaze fixed on the floor, and tugged the fridge door open, fetching her carton of milk. Without wasting a second, she filled a tall glass with cold milk and coughed hard, making me turn in her direction. "Do you want me to heat that for you?", I offered, and she shot a cold, perplexed look in response. "No—uh, I'll do it", she answered back, hesitantly, and looked around the kitchen in blankness. Her sickness had made the most out of her that she had absolutely no idea about the world around her; she simply scanned the kitchen for a whole minute. A hiss emerged from the living room, and when I turned in the direction of the sound, Nash gestured me to snatch the glass from Chanch's hand. "Oh God! Just let me do it for you, Chanch!", I insisted, and snatched the glass from her hand, as per Nash's order, bringing a smile on Nash's face and intensifying the look of blankness on Chanch's. "How the fever?", I questioned, as I emptied the cold milk into a steel vessel. "Better...", Chanch took almost an eternity to answer back; probably, my sudden friendliness surprised her, or something. We didn't share another word, until the milk boiled, and once it did, Chanch poured the steaming hot milk into a mug and staggered her way out of the kitchen in hurry, as though I would have eaten her up in hunger if she spent another second with me. She didn't even have the basic courtesy to chip a 'Thank you' for what I did, and I desperately wanted to point it out to her but I remained silent because I had a feeling that she hated me already, and I didn't want to make things worse.

At 09.15 a.m., the girls emptied the apartment, stranding me all alone with a dense air of stirring silence. I spent a little over an hour cleaning the bedroom, and clearing the dishes in the kitchen before lazily leaning against the balcony railing to catch a glimpse of Mumbai, which was calmer than it was at night, and I figured out that the rush in Mumbai at night was ten folds more captivating than the tranquility in the morning hours. Moments after I walked back into the living room, a deafeningly loud beep emerged from my iPhone, nabbing my attention at once; it was an incoming call from an unknown number.

"Hello", I said, softly, seconds after swiping the answer icon. "Am I speaking to Miss Dityaa?", a lady questioned from the other end, and the voice was familiar. "Speaking", I chipped, and fell back on my couch. "Ma'am, this is a reminder that you have an appointment with Darshan Raval today at 10.30", she reminded, and I glanced at the clock in the living room which was close to hitting 10.15. "Of course, I remember. I'm on my way. Actually, I'm stuck in the traffic", I lied, conveniently, and cut the call once I shared a brief conversation with Amaya.

Darshan Raval ought to payback for showing his attitude to me, and I was beyond desperate to settle the scores between us.

♥

I was 'late' by two long hours; at 12:50 p.m., sharp, I rushed to his silent office and stood at the reception, where Amaya sat behind the desk and stapled a set of papers. "Hi, Amaya; I'm Dityaa", my voice forced Amaya to corner her work and look up at me with a welcoming smile. "I'm extremely sorry for running in this late; the roads were packed and I was caught up in traffic. You know Mumbai better than me...", I sighed, and Amaya nodded her head in agreement, clasping her hands together. "I'm extremely sorry The Darshan Raval had to spend two hours waiting for me. I know he's a celebrity and he has a tight schedule to run after, but this was absolutely unintentional. It's terrible he had to wait this long", I stressed, rolling my eyes and I need to admit that I felt evil for doing that. "Oh, that's absolutely okay, ma'am", Amaya calmly said, with the same kind smile playing on her lips. "Actually, thank God you're late...", Amaya breathed out in relief, and I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion. "...Sir hasn't arrived yet. Even, he's late", Amaya revealed and that was a hard slap on my face. "He hasn't arrived yet?", I echoed in disbelief. "He wasn't waiting for me?!", unconsciously, I blurted out and the second I realized what I said, I looked away from Amaya, who didn't seem to understand my shock. "I mean---thank—thank God he didn't have to wait for me", I covered up, forcing a smile. "Good thing he didn't have to wait for me", I absently said, feeling embarrassed because how things turned out to be. "But I'm afraid you'll have to wait for him. He'll take an hour, or so", Amaya smiled, sympathetically, and looked down at her wristwatch. "We are extremely sorry for the delay, Ma'am. You know about the traffic in Mumbai", Amaya shrugged, and I couldn't bring myself to react. Was it karma, or my usual bad luck that was hitting me that morning? I should have spent thirty more minutes while applying my eyeliner, I thought to myself, as I sat down in the lobby with a grumpy face.

Karma worked its magic on me quicker than usual, even before I did anything to him, and it was frustrating. I considered the thought of cancelling the appointment and walking away, but that would cost me my stay in Mumbai because my mom wouldn't let me live in peace if I didn't pay heed to her words. With my arms crossed against my chest, I slumped back on the couch, waiting for the big-shot to arrive because I didn't have a choice.

He led the game, which had no name or rules, with ease; he didn't even know he was competing with me.

Darshan – Two; Dityaa; Nil.