“I’m sorry, Kabir,” Anaisha says, her eyes fixed on the floor. She has apologised for at least a good ten times and none of those seemed apologetic enough to me. Or anyone for that matter. See, I’m not a petty person but if an apology is followed by peals of laughter then it may not be an apology at all. “It’s the cake, Kabir. You look cute!”
“You’re fake, Anaisha,” I retort. I have changed into my blue scrubs and crocs. Fortunately, the coffee wasn’t as hot as I expected and that has been my usual gripe about the cafeteria…but yes, that saved me today. Though, the cake hasn’t helped. And my shirt has been plopped into the trash bin. It sadly couldn’t be saved.
“Am I really? You’re rude, Bir!” Anaisha says, walking around my office and that annoys me. It’s not like I have anything against Aarav or his siblings, on the contrary I have enough dirt on them to bind the trio to lifelong slavery, but my point is I hate when Aarav or his siblings roam around my private place as if they own it. No, I’m not being sensitive. It’s because each of them have a history of being clumsy. Not that I want to but I’d still share an incident when Aarav roamed (read jumped) around my bedroom and knocked down my precious signed and framed Messi jersey that I had to actually pay a bomb to get. And in his apology, he only shrugged his shoulders and said he'd get me another one – BUT I DIDN’T NEED ANOTHER ONE! I just want him to stay still! Okay, enough rant. “Can you just sit in one place? You’re quite a distraction when you move around like a hyper bunny.”
“Oh, I’m distracting you, Dr. Mehrotra...I see you flirting,” she winks, giving me what Aarav calls the dreamy eyed look and I kind of despise that because c’mon we're adults! “I know I’m quite a charmer but I didn’t know you thought the same, Bir.” Can she just not flirt with me? It's weird. I mean she’s Aarav’s sister, his baby sister and I strictly believe in bro-code, at least in this case.
“Remember, you used to call me ‘bhaiya’ back in school? Me, flirting with you, gross!” I say, picking up the reports that have been brought for my remarks of a newly transferred patient. “If the word spreads around, that would be quite scandalous. And my family would get funny ideas, not that they don't already with Kartik and Myra moving back in with us.” Okay, in all fairness, it’s not as gross or scandalous as I’m making it out to be but I just want to avoid any more drama with my family regarding marriage and love, especially if it has a chance of dragging Anaisha, Aarav or their family into it. There never goes a day, ever since my brother and his wife announced their return to our family house, that the two funny women in my life ever let me breathe in peace as they keep singing of the virtues of marriage and how it’s time I give them an heir. Now if they ever hear of Anaisha flirting with me, be assured in the next 10 days, they’d have a big fat desi wedding spanning over several days planned to the T. And I don’t want that, really.
“You are quite a spoilsport, Kabir,” Anaisha makes a face, “anyway, I should get going. I came directly from the airport to give you these chocolate cupcakes but I guess they just weren’t meant to be eaten.”
It hits me just now that today is the day Anaisha’s supposed return was scheduled for. I mean with Aarav having saved it as a memo on my phone the last time we talked about her and it was just ten days ago, I had to know but I kind of forgot that because all the shaadi talk my family keeps bringing up on a daily basis. And it ain’t that I want to take a glance at her but she doesn't look like she came here straight out of the airport – she’s dressed in a floral summer dress with her brown wavy hair left open and minimal makeup that you’d think she spent a couple hours to get done. Wait, I’m not concerned with that. I just...she looks beautiful. I mean there’s no doubt Anaisha is one pretty woman but...forget it.
“Thanks, anyway,” I feel an urge to comfort her as she appears sullen over the cupcakes or is it something else. She has always been like this – random and unpredictable. For the years I have known Anaisha, she’s not someone who can hide her emotions well; whatever she is feeling – good, bad, ugly, mad, sad – you can tell that just by looking at her face. Her mother keeps telling us that raising Anaisha was easier than her sons because she was so open about her feelings, so much so that she does not shy away from calling a spade a spade even if it earns her someone’s ire. And I don’t want to brag but when she was fifteen, she confessed her crush on me which I, of course, turned down because I was twenty and that was the right thing to do. But you’re getting what I’m saying right? She has this level of confidence that is just the right amount and yet she never crosses the line of personal boundaries. Am I sounding like a fanboy? Who knows I might be because if there’s one person that I’m envious of, then that’s Anaisha because she has this optimism to make things work for her unlike me who kind of gives up. And I won’t be wrong to say that I do have a soft spot for her because it’s her. “You look pretty, by the way. Is there like a magic screen at the airport that makes people look fresh despite several hours of a flight?”
“Kabir, should I thank you for the compliment or be upset for how backhanded it sounds?” she grumbles, passing me a look as she was just about to leave. I shrug my shoulders in response while skimming through the reports. She stands at the door for a good few minutes, making me a little jar with her silence because if there’s one thing that’s scary about her, then it’s her silence and I swear I kind of prefer a chatty Anaisha over the silent one. When she does not say anything for a few more minutes, I look up from my file and find her looking at me with a look that always leaves me puzzled – is it wistful or a look of yearning. I’d rather not assume either as it leaves me feeling uneasy about not being able to ease or comfort her. Unsettled, I try not to meet her gaze but as we do, I find her lips slowly breaking into a faint, courteous smile and say, “I heard Elena got married yesterday...I hope you’re okay.”
“I am,” I answer robotically, having repeated it so many times ever since the news of Elena’s marriage spread around. But something in Anaisha’s eyes catches me off the hook that I look away immediately to stop her from making any assumption that might incline more towards my real feelings I’d rather not speak about. “Why are you looking at me like that? Is there something wrong?” I enquire as Anaisha keeps looking at me with whatever that look in her eyes is.
“No, just that I was worried you might not be feeling well. You...liked her a lot, didn't you?” she questions, her voice deprived of her usual light-hearted tone. Anaisha sounds quite mature, mirroring the kindness of her mother. “It’s okay, you don’t have to answer. I was being too intrusive—”
“No, you’re not,” I abruptly interrupt her, not liking the signs of embarrassment that are obvious on her face. In all fairness, what she’s asked is hardly invasive, that's basically something almost everyone close to me has quizzed me over. But no one has appeared this empathetic, this eager to listen to my answer. Now I feel embarrassed. “It’s just that...let’s talk about it later.”
“Sure,” she shakes her head, quickly smiling her usual merry smile. “I should get going, gotta meet the eternal bachelor of this hospital.”
“Anuj?” I say, slightly chuckling at her remark, relaxed at her changing the topic quickly. “You’re a fellow with him?”
“Yes,” she smiles and turns to leave. At the door, she halts again and says, “It feels nice to be back, Bir.”
“It sure is.”
¤¤¤
Republished: August 20th, 2021
Music: ‘Introduce Me A Good Person’ by Joy (from Hospital Playlist)
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caffè americano & hazelnut latte ✔ (Book #1 of TSOU Series)
Romance|| Final Draft || The more I try to live, the more I have to struggle. So, I gave up trying to live and chose to exist instead, because it's easier. And I think I managed to fare well...until Anaisha came back to my life like a storm I've been prepa...
