I had arrived at the party around 10. The car ride had been long though with the kind of serenity which comes with driving on Delhi roads, and I was comfortably lounged in a vest and jeans combo on the back seat, smoking and feeling the wind rush past my hair, as ameen and gd sat talking in the front, and we had only a little detour to pick up the cake, still we were impatient to get to the venue as early as possible. We got out of the vehicle, and pulling my white shirt over my shoulders, I picked up the cake.
The door opened and Ruchi was there to greet us, she was wearing a short black dress which ended half a foot above her knees, which widened my pupils slightly, but as she turned around and beckoned us inside, the view was exciting.
The bulbs cast a dim spread of light across the room, which was stacked with crates of beer on one end. A few people had already arrived and conversations were starting to flow. The girls were wearing similar short dresses, and most of them looked alike to me, so I decided to identify them with the colour of their clothes. So Ruchi called to Black, Red, Creamish White and Bleach and introduced us as her boyfriend Pari’s friends. Gd flashed them a smile, Ameen hid behind me and I had fleeting eye contact with each of the women as I nodded and turned. Im not a big one for smiles.
Pari burst into the room brandinshing his teeth and a bottle of Jack Daniels in each hand raised in the air. His bared fangs acted as the spark to the barrel of gunpowder that the situation had ripened up to.
Next I knew we were spread standing around a table, at its centre a nearly filled cup, its contents a mixture of whisky and beer, and spread around it in a circle was a deck of cards. My turn, Red picks up a Jack, “Bottoms up!” She screams. I notice the just opened beer bottle in my hands and mentally curse myself for having picked it up. Im already 3 bottles down, or is it four, of that im not really sure. Still, my face twisted in a smile, eyes locked on Red, I raise the bottle and start to down it.The crowd cheers, and as the bottle goes half empty, the cheers turn into a roar, and by now Red is practically beaming, her eyes twinkling in mine.
I choke just before the quarter mark.
I put the bottle down and noticed the crowd’s cheers turning into boos and jeers. Pari and gd collapsed into each other with delight at my fail. Ameen was confused as usual and eyeing me reproachfully. Only Red still maintained her smile and her eye contact. Grinning at her, I pick up my beer and leave the room, aiming for a bedroom to sit and roll a joint in. She comes up from behind and asks “Do you want to join us on the dance floor?”
Simply shaking my head ,I smiled at her and entered the bedroom.
Ameen was the first to follow. As I sat down to crush the stuff, he walks in “mujhe bhi fukwa de yaar…”
“Baith”
Silence and a joint follow.
Red comes in by the time the first joint dies, and sits down on the bed beside me to crush the ganja. Ameen is now an eager participant, not being entirely sure as to what his role is here, or to whether she is interested in him. She is sitting quite close and I can see beads of water trickling down her neck from her face. Her hair is bushy, and her eyes are lined with kajal, which has spread a little near her left eye.
I sit there crushing, stealing glances and inhaling her smell.
People start to join us, trickling in in groups. Soon an entire production line is in order, an assembly line of marijuana joints. The room is abuzz with small chat.
It was then then that she entered. A group of four – a short fat guy, a short chick who looked unmistakeably Bengali, a tall gora firang, and in a dress that was tied behind her neck, coming down to cover her breasts, before draping over her miniscule waist and finally flowing down to the floor, was HER.
The girl with the scars on her arms, though obviously that was not the first thing I had noticed about her.
My eyes had to be reminded of etiquette to make them tear away from her. All thoughts of Red depart without trace from my mind.
She smokes with us, asking me my name, and telling us hers. Elia. Almost as serene as her.
We learn that she and the firang are engaged, that he is Italian, and that he’s here for their marriage which is in a month. She shares the flat we are in. She makes me want to smile.
I get up and move to the dance floor. Reaching for the laptop with the songs, which is what we have for a dj, I belt out playlist after playlist for the next two hours before taking a break. People are cramped up on the dance floor which is a frenzy of energy and sweat. Some girl shouts “I LOVE THE DJ”, which amuses me, when I notice Elia take a seat near the action.
She seems alone.
I motion to the spot next to her, and our conversation begins.
She tells me she is bisexual and in an open relationship, she tells me she writes scripts for stageplays, she tells me her mom once found her dildo, she slowly hums along to the music, she tells me she had a woman lover once, she tells me she works part time at an anti-dowry NGO, she tells me her favourite drug to do in London was MDMA, which “makes you want to love everyone in the room” and that she played basketball when she was in school.
“I can’t decide who is more beautiful, boys or girls” she confesses.
And I sit there, unable to believe that I would have to meet the most fascinating woman in the world a month before her wedding. Of time it was easy to forget that it even existed.
It’s already almost 6 before we got interrupted. Red was there, pulling Elia for a dance. She resisted, looked apologetically at me, and holding the other girl’s hand moved to the dance floor. I just took a sip of my drink and watched. She returned soon enough, and Red was right there to pull her back for more. Elia this time asked me to join them, I declined, saying I was okay.
Elia smiled, turned and pulled Red closer to her. Her hands travelled along Red’s waist, turned her around and settled around her pelvis. Elia pulled her in and in response Red started to move her hips. Elia turned to me and a smile slowly played on her eyes. Red started moving faster and pulled one of Elia’s hands to her stomach, and leaned back to kiss Elia on the neck. Elia is still doing the thing with her eyes, which has me rooted right on the spot. I’m immobile and all this universe is in this one woman. Elia is now turned around by Red, who is getting quite fussy now, her hands all over Elia’s front. Elia lets out a small laugh of mirth and tilts her neck backward. The rest of the party has stopped, and everyone is now focused on the two women in passion. Not shy of attention, Elia runs her hand to pull back Red’s hair and pecks her on the lips. The crowd is hooting, and someone throws a thin towel over them. Their faces hidden from us, the women draw closer and the rest of us just laugh, hoot and cheer. They are smooching now. Finally they move from their embrace, Red is laughing, and Elia just looks at me and smiles and continues to move to the music.
A few minutes later, its bye time, I’v still not moved from my spot, Elia sits beside me and offers me her hand for goodbye. I take it and smile, not knowing what to say and what not to say. She suddenly leans in, her nose nudges my cheek and for a fraction of a second her lips touch my left cheek.
“And this” She points to the scars on her arm” are from when I got married at 18. The dowry was not enough for them….the things they did, I did not have much to live for” I just looked at her in astonishment.
“I noticed you looking “ She smiled, and then she was gone.
