“More or less.”
“Good, because I was going to suggest the same. What are you doing for lunch today?”
“The usual.”
“Come on, then, let’s go.”
“Go where?”
“Don’t ask irrelevant questions on such a lovely day.”
“Don’t you have work to do?”
“I’ve followed your excellent example. No cases for you these ten days and no media work for me, too! Though that’s not strictly true, of course. I do have a coverage of the last day, the visarjan sohla - the procession of the immersion of Ganesh. But that is still two long days away. So why worry about it now? Are you coming or not?”
Sonia sighed. Everyone seemed to be dominating her nowadays. First her parents, her Assistant, and now Mohnish. Well, all right. She may as well be a little flexible. And accede to Jatin’s advice and have a good time!
And she did have a whale of a time. Mohnish drove her all round town, pointing out and pausing at the huge dekhave decorated with images out of Ramayana and Mahabharata; life- size mythological figures; a sixty foot statue of God Hanuman; water sprouting out of the top-bun of the hair of Lord Vishnu; or just plain mountainous idols of the Lord Ganesh. Even though the dekhave were better appreciated during the night-time with their dramatic lighting, the crowds still moved around them as if they were on a permanent picnic.
It was only while they took the turn from Chandanai Chowk to Mulshi that the rain began its downpour again.
“Now where are we going?” Sonia felt invigorated, excited, and heady. She couldn’t care less where they were headed, she felt so relaxed.
“We’re going to have a late lunch at a personal favourite restaurant of mine.” Mohnish announced. His hair was wet and tousled with the wind and rain and he looked disturbingly handsome in his jeans and blue denim jacket.
The drive took fifteen minutes down the serpentine road, with stretches of green trees on the right and rolling hills on the left. The rain pattered on the roof of the car. Sonia glanced at Mohnishs profile, noting his total concentration on the slippery road. Suddenly he turned and looked at her. Their eyes locked momentarily, and for precious moments, time froze. Then he tore his gaze away and focused once again on the road. But Sonia was reeling with the impact of the look. There had been so much desire and intensity in his smileless gaze that suddenly the close confines of the car made her uncomfortable. The gaze had stoked emotions she wasn’t even aware she possessed and her heart had picked up erratic speed. She stared out of her window at the lush green hills and took slow, deep breaths.
When they had parked, they had to make a run for the restaurant so as not to get completely drenched. It was only when they were seated that Sonia realised that they were on a hill, overlooking the bloated Manas lake. Despite the rain, a weak sun shone, layering the landscape with gold.
“What a lovely view!”
“Isn’t it?” Mohnish looked pleased. “I knew that you could appreciate it.”
“I hope the food is good. I’m hungry!” Sonia admitted, smiling. “You order. I’m going to go fetch two bhuttas for us”
Before he could respond, she rose and headed towards a man in kurta pyjamas and a muddy white scarf tied around his head, roasting bhuttas on a cart. Mohnish watched her stride gracefully to the man.
Sonia turned to flash him a quick smile. She knew he was observing her and thinking about her. But for the moment, she felt in a better frame of mind to accept the fact. Neither conscious nor ill equipped. She experienced an unrestrained thread of freedom run through her. She could cope with anything today!
The man turned the two cobs on hot coals till they were a crusty brown, then rubbed salt, red pepper, and lime on them.
“Sprinkle lots of chili on them, please,” Sonia told him, extracting money from her handbag.
He placed the cobs on a corn cover and took the money.
Mohnish observed her as Sonia and the vendor exchanged comments. She was such a unique person, he thought. Beautiful and elegant when the occasion required it; tough and indomitable at times; and compassionate, empathetic, and concerned when the need arose. A perfect combination. And in the car, that one moment when he had looked at her - it had been a moment of truth for him and it had hit him like a jolt. He was in love with Sonia!
As she walked towards him, he decided that he had to do something about it. Today. Now. She slipped into the chair beside him.
“Lots of spice and lime. I hope you like it that way,” she said, handing him a cob.
“Thanks, I’ve ordered Pav Bhaji for us”
“Good, I love it.” She bit into the cob, savouring the spicy, tangy taste.
Sonia was silent as she devoured the bhutta. A frown marred her pretty face.
“Do you know, Mohnish, a person is like a corncob? You think the corn is so big, and then you peel away the multiple layers and you discover that, bare and stripped of its covers, it’s almost half the size inside. Most people are like that. But you barely notice it, since it might take a lifetime to peel away the layers of self-defence, respect, greed, love, age, and God knows what else. And there’s the possibility that you may never ever get under the layers at all. In a majority of the cases”
“Hmm… ” Mohnish shrugged. “Most people do live with all the layers on anyway. Layers which they themselves aren’t aware exist!”
“Right.”
“What brought this on?” he asked, curious.
The waiter arrived with the Pav Bhaji and Sonia waited for him to leave. The rain continued to fall around them, enclosing them in misty white. Sonia watched idly as a group ofyoungsters arrived in a Jeep, ran into the shelter of the restaurant, laughing and giggling, oohing and aahing
