Chapter 24 : I Hate SKYPE.
“Zoya, Zoya get up.” Arnaud shakes me gently trying to wake me from my slumber.
“Two more minutes Arnaud,” I say and burrow under my cozy blue blanket not wanting to let go of my dream where I was hugging and talking a mile a minute with Sharukh Khan my favorite Bollywood actor.
“Zoya, I’m really sorry to disturb you but you need to wake up.” He says with a tone of urgency in his voice.
“Arnaud, we just got back yesterday, I’m very tired. Please let me sleep. I’m jet lagged.” I mumble into the pillow.
“I know baby but you need to get up. There is a woman on your laptop screen frantically screaming the house down once she saw me. I think she might have a coronary if she does not see your face.” He says trying to help me understand the gravity of the situation.
I got up instantly, “ Come again, what happened?” I ask him.
“There is a woman….” Arnaud starts
“Yes. I got that part, but what were you doing on my laptop?” I ask him.
He gives me a lopsided sheepish grin, looking a tiny bit embarrassed and says “ I went to make us both coffee and I saw your Mac light blinking so I switched it on, thinking it might be your research guide sending you another mail, I know how annoyed you get when you see his mails late and before I knew it, this woman was on screen screaming hysterically asking what I had done with you, and how much ransom I wanted in order to set you free.”
I smile at the sweet intentions of this man standing in front of me and before I can comprehend my own thoughts, I kiss him smack on the mouth. He looks as awestruck as I am. He pulls me in for another quick kiss.
We break apart and Arnaud still breathing heavily tell me, “Zoya, I would love for us to spend the day together in this bed sleeping but that woman on screen will keep haunting me, so please go and see what she wants and tell her that I’m your boyfriend and I did not kidnap you. You live-in with me.” He says with a hint of possessiveness and he pulls me closer to his body and nips my ear slightly.
I nod still reeling under the shock of his words.
Boyfriend, live-in.
I have a boyfriend. I can’t keep the smile out of my face. I want to run out and tell the whole building that Arnaud is my boyfriend. But of course they might have guessed that we were a couple as we were living in the same house.
While I’m lost in my own dreams Arnaud brings me back to reality reminding me about the lady on screen.
I quickly brush my teeth and cautiously approach my Mac which is lying on the dining room table. As I come closer, I can see a familiar fair oval faced shape, hair the colour of salt and pepper tied in a bun, spectacles perched on the nose hiding the jet black eyes that were currently appraising me and a mouth that had not stopped since I entered the room.
“Hi Ma,” I say slowly.
“Zoya Subramaniam-” My mother starts,
Oh boy. I know I am in deep trouble. Sentences that begin with my full name generally do not have happy endings. I learnt that by experience.
"Zoya Sybramaniam, Mrs Narayan called why did you break their glass pane?"
"Zoya Subramaniam, your Economics professor called, Where were you during the lecture?" Her voice broke me from my reverie.
‘Ma, it’s such a pleasant surprise, how are you? How is Papa? And Pia? I have not spoken to her in a long time. How’s Nani and Dadi?” I continue pleasantly trying to distract her form the topic at hand and hoping to God it works.
“Zoya, do not change the topic. For your record all are doing well. Life goes on even when your young daughter living abroad does not keep in contact as she promised.” She says with a hint of sadness in her voice.
“Ma, I-” I start voicing an excuse but she cuts me off sharply.
“Zoya Subramaniam, what is all this that I am seeing and hearing. Who was that boy and why was he shirtless? What is he doing in your house? I have seen his photo before, he looks very familiar.” She asks me inquisitively.
In all my excitement about having a boyfriend, I forgot that said boyfriend had a habit of sleeping shirtless and roaming around without his shirt. Technically he did not have to as it was his house and I liked him without his shirt on, nothing to obstruct that beautiful view which was perfection personifies but sometimes they caused me trouble. This was one of those times.
“Ma he is-” before I can answer he she cuts me off again.
“Wait, now I remember. Mrs Narayan sent me me photos from her son’s wedding, he was there with you.” Here she points an accusing finger at me. “ You looked very pretty by the way, should have worn some bangles though.” She adds on a completely different tangent.
Before I can reply she continues, “I think I saw a photo of him on the beach with a girl who looked a lot like you. Wait let me check.” She says and opens what I presume another tab on google to confirm her suspicions.
“Yes, I was right. It is you. She sends the photo across and for a minute, I can see a grainy photo of Arnaud and me from our first date at the beach, lying on the blanket looking like tow idiots in love.
The photo is not very clear as the shot was taken from the sky or a great distance. I wonder how anybody had access to the private beach. I scan the headlines and see that it’s a French newspaper. I wonder what my Mother was doing reading a French newspaper.
“Zoya, Mr Khanna’s daughter just sent me a video on whatsapp. Would you care to explain why you were kissing the same boy in a crowded football stadium?”
I try to jog my brains trying to remember any Khanna I know of and vaguely recall Maya introducing herself as Maya Khanna.
That witch. She did not rat out on me.
Why did she?
I did not tell her parents about her sucking face with her boyfriend and she goes one step beyond and sends mine a video too. Now I know why her smile looked familiar. She looked like the Grinch who stole Christmas.
Wicked Witch, of the West.
“Zoya, I am waiting for an answer.” Ma admonishes me sternly.
“Ma. His name is Arnaud Tautou. He is French. We met at University. He is not staying in my house, it’s the other way around. Also heismyboyfriend.”
“Come again, Zoya. What did you say at the end ? and Why are are you staying with him? What happened to that lNice young Spanish girl who came with you last year fr Diwali?” She asks me.
I explain to her the whole reason why I had to shift and how kindly Arnaud offered to help me, and in the middle of all of it, I mention that he is my boyfriend and her eyes nearly pop out of her sockets.
“Zoya Subramaniam, you are not living in with a boy who you know nothing about. Forget that, you are not living in with any boy till you are married, and even then we will search for a son-in-law, who will stay with us.”
I’m appalled at her reaction.
I am an adult, for crying out loud.
I can take my own decisions.
Can’t I?
Not according to my mum apparently.
“Ma, don’t you think you are over reacting a bit?” I ask her in a small voice.
“Over reacting? You did not just tell me that. You are living with a Frenchman. You know what they are famous for? Eating frogs and snails, smoking and having affairs. Look at that President of theirs. He just could not stay happy with his wife.” There she goes on a different plane altogether.
“ Ma, but he is different. He is sweet, kind, caring and funny. He knows that I do not touch anything that is not vegetarian and is ok with it. He does not smoke and he is not having an affair mother.” I try to reason with her.
“Zoya Subramaniam, you are not staying with him any longer. Move out, better yet come home."She orders me.
"No daughter of mine is going to live- in with a boy. " She makes it sound as though I commited murder.
"Marry him or come to India, we will find a good boy for you. Wait we already have a good boy, right here. Jaynarain Venkatramanbhavani. You two looked so cute especiallyhim, better than you and that colonizer boy.”
“Ma, please stop calling him that. He is my boyfriend not a stranger. I really like him.” I plead with her.
“Zoya, this is my last word. Come back to India or marry him there. You are not staying with him without a ring on your finger. Goodbye, I hope to hear from you or even better see you soon. Catch the next flight home.” She says and cuts the Skype call.
I hold my head in my hands and when I look up I see Arnaud standing there.
I slowly walk towards him, “I hate Skype. It’s the worst app that was ever invented.” I say sulkily. He smiles and gives me a tight hug.
I don’t know whether he heard all that my mum said but I do know one thing and that is, I’m in trouble.
Deep trouble.
AN: Another chapter in two days. here is my Diwali gift for you lovely Wattpaders in advance. I may not be around during Diwali so here's a lit