Page 30 of Made in Mumbai

“Yes, please. A table for one,” Maya requested, then stopped short. There sat Gautam, on a table for two, alone, looking out of the floor-to-ceiling glass windows. “Umm… actually, I see a friend. Let me see if we are dining together. If not, then I’ll take that table.”

“You took the window seat again,” she remarked, coming to stand beside him. His head turned. He looked relaxed, his shirt sleeves rolled up, the top two buttons open, his hair a little mussed, as if he had been lying on the bed before coming here.

“Maya?” He frowned.

“I was about to take a table for one when I saw you. It just felt weird to eat alone when we came here together. If you want me to, I can go.”

He looked conflicted for a second, then nodded at the chair opposite him. Maya sighed, as if she had managed to win a battle. She pulled the chair and sat down.

“No rehashing old times, but can I be friendly with you and expect you to not bite my head off?”

His eyes shut again. She was slowly discovering that this was his way of recalibrating, maybe rebooting his natural response. Whichwasto bite her head off.

Gautam opened his eyes, and his face softened. His eyes, for the first time since they had met again, were looking at her with something other than disdain.

“What would you like to eat?” He asked.

“What are you having?”

“I was planning to go for their dosa.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to ask him if he would like it with extra ghee, but she bit it off. This was progress. She wouldn’t go back now.

“I think I will also have their benne dosa,” she wondered aloud instead. They placed their orders, with filter coffees on the side. It wasn’t a fine-dining kind of a meal that they had ordered, but this was them. They hadn’t adhered to rules all those years ago. Why would they now?

“How are your parents?” He asked. Maya drank down her surprise and let her answer flow, lest he stop interacting.

“Good. Retired now. They had a few acres of land in Dahanu, so they built a proper farmhouse there and have been enjoying the retired life.”

“Both of them together?”

She shrugged — “I don’t ask, they don’t tell. On paper though they are still together.”

“Hmm.”

“How is… Kumar bhai?”

A smiled formed on his flat mouth — “Living the life he always wanted. He opened a lassi corner in Amritsar and has stayed put. Although, I know he secretly still wants to move around. Maybe buy a truck of his own and just drive around the country.”

“Is he married?”

“No. He says it’s him and his lassi.”

“And what about you?”

“It’s me and my textiles.”

Maya chuckled. “I hope they keep you warm at night.”

“More than your average warm-blooded female.”

“Aaah, so you’ve tested both.”

“Kashmiri pashmina or a girl I picked up in SoBo? The former. Always the former,” he smirked.

Her mouth dropped open. “Gautam Kumar, you naughty boy. And here I thought you were this scowl machine good boy who would blush while even saying the word ‘female.’”

He snorted — “Words, Maya, words. Install a filter from here to here,” he pointed from his temple to his mouth.

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