The Last Love Letter

Chapter 44

Akash had deliberately stayed away from Subah that day. She was in a safe place and surrounded by admirers and the media.

In the afternoon, he had seen her leave the gallery with an editor he had met earlier and kept his distance. And after the gallery closed for the evening, he had walked with her wordlessly to the hotel. Somehow, there seemed to be no need to speak.

Sleeping in her room last night had completely wiped out the wedge he’d felt between them. Subah was a beautiful soul, and she deserved a great day like today after what she’d gone through.

While at the gallery, Akash had used the time to post more information on social media. He had taken a few pictures of Subah talking to people and added them too. These were the first images of the artist at her exhibition, and he was sure that they would add the necessary impetus to the overall campaign. He had also bought a simple phone for Subah, using a copy of her ID to reapply for her old number, and was relieved to be assured that the number would be activated within a day.

As he took a shower in his hotel room, he thought about what Rohit had said. Since he had no job commitments waiting for him in Delhi and the only one he had been partly paid for was still a few weeks away, Akash had time on his hands. That meant he could stay in Mumbai for a few more days to watch over Subah and her exhibition.

But he missed Sara terribly. The first thing he did after leaving the bathroom and getting dressed was call her.

‘Dad, how is the painter aunty now?’

‘Hey, how did you know?’

‘Dadi told me yesterday.’

‘She’s fine.’

‘Is she with you now? Can I talk to her?’

‘No, she is not here; she is in her room.’

‘Her room? But why are you not in the same room?’

‘Okay, no more about that. Tell me, how was school today?’ he asked, changing the subject, and was relieved when Sara told him stories about her friends. This conversation was between father and daughter, and he didn’t want too much mention of Subah in it.

When Subah didn’t answer the phone fifteen minutes later, Akash called the reception desk, trying to keep his worries in check.

‘Sir, madam is here in the lobby. You want me to call her?’

‘No, I’m coming down.’ Akash was down in a few minutes.

‘Hi, Akash. Looks like you’re out to impress someone. Fresh and ready.’

‘Thanks.’ He didn’t know how to react to such a comment. He wasn’t prepared for such frankness from her. But it was a good sign. Subah was almost back to her normal self, and that was what mattered at the moment. ‘There might be someone,’ he played along, winking.

‘If you don’t mind, can I come along and see who this person is? I just have to go to my room to change. Won’t take longer than fifteen minutes.’

‘Sure, I’ll wait here.’

Half an hour later, Subah was back down, and for the first time, the way she looked took his breath away, making him speechless. She wore a knee-length yellow dress with big flowers on it, a pearl necklace and heels. Her face glowed. Subah the painter, the saviour of women, looked stunning.

‘Let’s find out who this person is that you’re trying to impress.’

All he could do was nod, and the two of them walked from their hotel towards the PJ Ramchandani Marg, which joined the Gateway of India to the Radio Club.

‘Where were you today, Akash?’
‘I was doing some work. You know the—’

‘Did you eat lunch?’

‘Yes, I did.’

‘Where?’

‘Well, there was this place—’

‘I know you didn’t, so please don’t lie to me.’

Akash didn’t say anything. Even though her comments had some overtones of ownership, he wasn’t annoyed. They were good friends now, and she was entitled to it. She was right, he had not eaten lunch. But he had had lots of tea and biscuits, so he hadn’t even realized that he’d missed a meal.

They passed people, mostly tourists, Arab men and women in their traditional clothes, sailors from the nearby harbour with their crew cuts and the local Mumbaikars with smiles on their faces. They walked past a Starbucks and a few Iranian cafés before turning left.

‘Oh, by the way, here is your new phone. Your previous number should be activated soon. Just keep it charged and switched on.’

'Thank you.’

‘You’re welcome.’

‘Where exactly are we going?’

‘I’m not sure. Do you have a place in mind?’

‘No.’

A diner appeared on their right, and Akash looked at Subah. She nodded, and they entered. It was a small place with few occupied tables. They chose a table by the window that overlooked the road outside.

‘What’s special here?’ Akash asked the waiter, who appeared by their side as soon as they were seated.

‘Seafood, sir.’

‘Would you like that?’ he asked Subah.

‘Yes, very much. What about you?’

‘Yeah, me too.’

‘Indian or Chinese? I’m afraid they don’t have Italian, your favourite.’

‘I love Indian too.’

Akash asked the waiter for fish and prawns with rotis and a biryani, then asked Subah, ‘Would you like to have a beer? Or wine maybe?’

‘I would prefer beer, but we can do wine if you like.’

Akash asked the waiter for two pints of beer.