Page 19 of A Kiss in Kashmir

With those words, full stomachs, and even fuller hearts, Sharmila and Alina left the restaurant to find George outside with his shoes already on.

“Where to now, George?” Alina asked. “My stomach is so full that I think I need a nap.”

George laughed and told them he was going to take them to a newly opened store that specialized only in bangles—all kinds, he told them, from glass to lac to plastic to gold and silver. He had seen a write-up in the paper earlier that day, and Wajid had insisted that he take them there after the meal.

Suddenly the trio was greeted by a surprise. The neighborhood was up to mischief, and they were about to get caught in the middle. It started with a splash of ice-cold water soaking the back of George’s shirt. He let out a yelp and turned around to see one of the little neighborhood kids grinning at him and holding a small red water balloon in hand.

“Mister. You are in our way. We are having a water battle, and you are on the enemy side,” the little one declared, aiming the next water balloon at George. Before George could react, Alina sprang into action, playfully stepping in front of him.

“I will protect him. You’ll have to get through me first,” Alina called, her eyes dancing with amusement.

Sharmila found herself on the brink of becoming collateral damage in the impending balloon crossfire. Before anyone could let loose another projectile, a young voice piped up, “No, no. We can’t hit her. She’s the chocolate aunty. She’ll be on our side.”

Sharmila chuckled, her heart melting at the endearing title. “All right, all right, I’m on your side,” she agreed gleefully.

With that, the battle lines were drawn. It was now Alina and George versus Sharmila and the pint-sized army of neighborhood kids, fueled by the chocolates she had given them and armed to the teeth with water balloons of various colors.

“This isn’t fair,” George protested as he and Alina took refuge behind a row of old, weathered Bajaj scooters parked on the street. “We have no ammunition.”

Alina grinned mischievously, plucking an old hubcap from the street and holding it up like a shield. “Fear not, my friend. We shall rely on the power of imagination and resourcefulness.”

The kids, undeterred by their opponents’ lack of water balloons, rallied together, their laughter filling the air as they planned their next move. Sharmila joined the fun, grabbing a discarded cardboard box to use as a makeshift shield.

“This isn’t fair,” George yelled again as the water balloons came in at them.

“Everything is fair in love and war,” Sharmila shouted as the first balloon hit Alina on her arm and another one hit George on his head. They could hear Sharmila laughing and giggling and strategizing with the little kids on what to do next.

“Here, since they have an unfair advantage, I will give you both one, too.” Raahat was standing behind them and handed George a water hose.

He stood up and turned it on and began to spray the kids. The war was forgotten as the kids came running towards him and began to clap and dance as George kept on spraying water on them. Alina joined in too and laughed at the sweetness of the moment. She turned and grabbed the hose from George and began to spray him and her mom. Sharmila tried to shield herself with her hands, but now there was more than one hose. Raahat had joined in.

The noise attracted the attention of many of the neighbors, who all came out to see what the commotion was about and take part.

Sharmila twirled to avoid the oncoming stream of water and her eyes locked onto George’s. The electric charge between them was undeniable.

Her foot slipped on the wet ground and for a heartbeat, she teetered on the edge of a fall. In that heartbeat, George was there, swift as the breeze, wrapping his strong arm around her waist. His touch sent shivers through her. In his embrace, she felt safe, but her heart raced wildly as his other arm slipped behind her legs, lifting her effortlessly from the ground.

As Alina and Raahat joined forces, spraying them both with a symphony of water, Sharmila and George were drenched, their clothes clinging to their bodies like a second skin. But the sensation of wet fabric against their skin was nothing compared to their sudden and unexpected closeness to one another. As they continued to look at each other, the outside world faded away and they could barely hear the children or feel the water.

Sharmila instinctively nestled her head against George’s shoulder, her arms gracefully finding their way around his neck. Their breaths became synchronized, and they could feel each other’s heartbeat quicken. Their dance in the spray of water was a dance of restraint and desire, a subtle revelation of feelings neither was ready to put into words.

“We won, we won!” the kids were shouting.

Self-consciously, George put Sharmila down. She turned away and joined the kids in their chant.

The war had ended.

“Let’s go sit in the sun to dry off,” Alina said, walking towards a garden she had seen on her way in. George and Sharmila followed, very conscious of the effect of the physical closeness they had just experienced.

As they sat in the large sunny garden, George asked them if they wanted to meet Daneen.

“Meet Daneen? Yes, yes… why not?” Alina mumbled and looked to her mom for some clarification. Sharmila was confused and wondered if he had felt bad or guilty about picking her up earlier and so was now thinking of Daneen.

He said, “I don’t mean to bring this up suddenly. It has been on my mind. Since I have told her about you, it is only fair that you meet her. We can go there after the bangle store.”

With that, they made their way to the new bangle shop, where Alina purchased several dozen glass bangles. Sharmila was distracted with the prospect of “meeting” Daneen and what that might mean.

The shopping was done.

---