Page 26 of A Kiss in Kashmir

Sharmila rested for an hour and then began to get ready for the evening ahead. She looked at herself in the mirror. Her small frame, draped in a white and red Chanderi-style shimmering silk saree embroidered with vibrant peacocks, seemed more alive than ever. She slipped on matching red and silver bangles. Then she fixed her makeup, gently adding deep black kajal kohl to her eyelids.

“What did you and George talk about, Alina? Is everything okay?” Sharmila asked, but instantly regretted it. “Sorry, you don’t have to tell me. I didn’t mean to pry.”

“Actually, he gave me some great advice about dealing with Emilio. Anyway, I’m leaving now, Ma.”

“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather join us?”

Alina had joked with her earlier that day about bowing out of dinner with two boring Gen Xers.

“I’m flattered he invited me, but this is an easy pass for me, Ma. I know it’s his birthday but I want to go hang out with people my own age. I’ve done almost everything you asked for, and yes, I have enjoyed it more than I thought I would. Now I’m gonna do my thing.”

Sharmila had felt strangely relieved. As much as she wanted Alina there, she could not help but admit she wondered what it would be like to be alone with George in a more intimate setting, even if it was just a few hours.She had been alone with men before. Why did this feel so different? Was it different?

It was at that moment that reality set in.

Am I really doing this?Sharmila thought. She ran her hand over the saree, smoothing out wrinkles that didn’t exist. She readjusted her diamond drop necklace and her solitaire earrings.

Maybe I’m overdressed? This isn’t a date. It’s just dinner with a friend. Or is it? Is it a date? No, no. I am not dating him. This is silly. But wearefriends, right? Was this too much makeup?

She began to remove her bangles. Then put them back on.

This is silly. It’s just dinner. We’re just having dinner. It’s fine.

The phone in her room rang. It was the front desk letting her know that the taxi she had requested was ready. “Yes, thank you, I will be right down.”

The ride to George’s houseboat took only about fifteen minutes, but to Sharmila it felt like a lifetime. She checked her phone every minute to see if perhaps he had cancelled, or if Alina had changed her mind and was going to join them.

This is silly, she chided herself.It’s just a dinner. Everything is fine. I’m a grown adult. He’s an adult. There’s nothing to be nervous about.

The taxi dropped her off at the boat, and now as she stood face to face with George, she felt an inexplicable connection with the man standing before her. His warm smile and eyes reflecting the shimmering water drew her in. Even the air between them felt different. Electric. As Sharmila stepped onto the houseboat, she hoped that the rhythmic swaying of the boat would calm her nervousness.

“Happy birthday, again. I feel guilty making you cook. I would’ve offered, but I can’t cook, and lucky you, they have no kitchen at the hotel that I could use.” Sharmila laughed nervously.

“You look gorgeous,” George told her with a smile fit for a movie star. “Please come in. This isn’t as fancy as Sukoon,but it’s the second love of my life. The first one being, well, food.”

Inside his houseboat, named Zuva, the atmosphere was peaceful and inviting. Colorful pillows with tilla embroidery were strewn about casually. There was a large couch on one side. Embroidered fabrics in frames hung all around the small boat.

“What does Zuva mean?” Sharmila asked.

“Oh, it’s Kashmiri forsoul mate, or more aptly, I guess it’s a term of love for the person who is your soul or life.”

“That’s beautiful. Here, this is for you,” Sharmila nervously handed him a small bouquet of brightly colored roses wrapped around an old branch.

“Ah, I see you’ve been in touch with our flower lady, Zarina. Thank you, and I do think this is a first. I don’t remember the last time a woman, or I guess anyone, brought me flowers. And thank you again for the scarf. Itiswarm, and I know I will get a lot of use out of it.”

Did she detect a bit of pink in his cheeks? Was he blushing?

Sharmila thought he seemed nervous too, but decided she was clearly overthinking the situation. She stared at the framed art on the wall while she focused her thoughts. It was just a dinner between two adults. That was all.Why would he be nervous?

“Ah, all these that you’re looking at? This is what Daneen’s true love was. Tilla work. I keep a few of her pieces here.”

“This is her here, right? She’s so lovely. These are delightful pictures, George.” Sharmila picked up a silver frame with a photograph of Daneen and George in front of the National Press Club in Washington.

“Ah, yes. She had an exhibition of her work there that day. It was pretty exciting. Seems like a lifetime ago.”

“Something smells really good,” Sharmila said, changing the topic as she noticed the sadness in his eyes.

“Tonight I’m cooking you a trout curry. I caught this fish today,” he boasted, but somehow it didn’t sound quite like a boast. From what she already knew of him, he wasn’t one to boast about any of his accomplishments. She waited for the punchline.

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