Avanti

"Alright everyone, I know you had a fun time speculating about theories behind my disappearance so allow me to clear the air and apologize." I looked around at my team, scanning their faces for any hint of a challenge of rebellion or even mild dislike. They were hard to read. Rajiv, Arjun, Hitesh and Mukta were expectant, waiting to hear my side of the story. Nishant had his arms crossed, head slightly tilted and appeared to be a second away from tapping his foot with attitude. But I was prepared to be the bigger person here and met his gaze directly.

"First things first. I am truly sorry for my reaction and unjustified display of anger Nishant. That was uncalled for, especially when you were only trying to assist me. You are an excellent chef and I had no right—in the capacity of a leader or otherwise—to demean you." It was not enough for him to relax his stance, and I didn't blame him. "While I didn't mean to insult you in front of the entire internet, even if my words had been uttered in private, they were still an attack and question on your integrity and skill, which I deeply regret. I will not blame you for thinking I am only apologetic because I was caught, but that is not true. The reality of me becoming an internet meme aside, I am deeply embarrassed of my behaviour that day."

A slow smirk appeared on his face. My tone, despite being professional, was sincere. He knew that, could smell my defeat in that moment. And yet, I knew, I was far from forgiven. "It's okay, I appreciate you admitting that."

Oh well, I tried extending the olive branch. If he still wanted a war, I'd oblige.

Refraining from shrugging off his attitude, I acknowledged his weak acceptance with a small nod before turning to Mukta, hoping she would fill me in.

She smiled bright, bless her heart. "I had planned the breakfast spread for the whole week on Monday, here," she said, passing me a notepad.

I scanned the contents till my eyes reached the Thursday column. Shakshuka, an onion Uttapam counter with sambhar and three types of chutney, dal kachoris, three batches of cereal, butter croissants served with cream cheese, spicy dhoklas, plain old aaloo paranthas with curd. "This seems good, alright then, get to work everyone. And Nishant," I said, stopping everyone else in their tracks too. "I trust you can handle the Uttapam counter, given your strength."

His face soured at the idea of the most inane yet labour intensive job. Hitesh barely managed to reign in his chuckle.

I was not above a little bit of pettiness.

~.~

I had no reason to extend my shift beyond the 13 hours it had already stretched on for. Yet, I found myself obsessively wiping the granite countertops at 11:30 pm, somehow still numb to all that had happened in the past week. Mukta had been the last one to clock off, giving me a small pat on the back. It hadn't been the worst day, not by a long margin, and still I could feel a heavy churning in my chest. The anxiety of facing my colleagues after the public humiliation I had been harbouring for weeks had emptied. Even Nishant managed to be civil. The emptiness was heavy, weighing down on me, and I didn't know my next move. I had to be here tomorrow, I knew that, but I had no clue about the menu, or the delegation of tasks, or even what I shall wear.

For once, I wanted someone to make a decision for me.

As I reached for my phone to book a cab, it chimed. Before the vlogger had slid into my DMs (and my life) I had a habit of keeping Insta notifications off. Not anymore.

@gauravpanditavlogs are you still at work?

@cookwithavanti haan, bas nikal hi rahi thi.

@gauravpanditavlogs the fullstops physically hurt me, itna formal kyu?

@gauravpanditavlogs anyway I just wrapped shooting, das minute de aaraha

@gauravpanditavlogs tabtak follow me back

@cookwithavanti I've booked a cab, load mat le tu. I'll manage.

Not checking his reply, I grabbed my things, clocked off, and made my way towards the back entrance. The tiny yellow symbol of an auto was five minutes away. His texts grated my nerves. On one hand, they were a reminder of the lack of control I was feeling, and on the other, I found the first ounce of relief that I somehow was still on the back of his mind.

He sure as hell was on mine.

It wasn't lost on me that I had two more days till his family arrived on my doorstep, and all I could do the whole week was to picture fat aunties in silk saris, judging me from head to royal toes, with their bald husbands in striped shirts gobbling down samosas they knew were enemies of their cholesterol. My parents were ill-equipped to deal with that situation. I was ill-equipped, and I at least knew the whole truth. All my arranged-marriage dates before this had been at public spaces, neutral grounds. But Gaurav fucking Pandita managed to turn my life into a Star Plus serial.

If only I had access to dunk his electronics in soapy water.

The worst part? I went along with it. Heck, more than dread, I was slightly looking forward to Sunday.

My phone beeped with another text.

@gauravpanditavlogs cancel that auto. I can see you.

Sure as hell, I saw a red i-10 pull over across the road from the back entrance, just as I had expected.

Swiping to cancel my ride, which was now 7 minutes away, I quickly crossed the road. He pulled down his window, dark brown eyes shining in the yellow hues of the street lights above us. "Follow nahi karna toh number toh dedo Mohtarma, aapko call karna mushkil hai Instagram se."

I made no attempt to walk around the car and get in the passenger seat. "I told you I didn't need you to pick me"

"I'm not. I'm just here to drop you safely."

"My auto is on the way."

"Aajyega toh usko follow karunga."

"You're not my fiancé."

"Avanti," he said, "I have had a really long day trying to explain and justify my decisions when all I have as a reason is a gut feeling. And since you seem to agree with those decisions, you are the best person to discuss my problem with. And I really, really need you to clear certain things with me. So please, get in the car, thand se meri gand fatt rahi hai."

Five footsteps and I was inside the warm car, glad that I didn't have to take an open auto with the December chill slapping my face. "You're having second thoughts?"

We had known each other for less than a week. A week I had spent watching every single video he had been in, absorbing his thoughts and views, noting the very public contradictions he had displayed on a variety of topics ranging from politics to gender relations and pop culture. I had observed the evolution of his opinions of these topics from his earliest videos—some of which contained material stupid enough to get him cancelled—to his latest ones which were picture perfect, with great lighting and crisp editing. I had more sources of information about him that he had for me, and he was left with very little avenues to lie to me, what with that sleezy cameraman of his making him go live for a few hours everyday.

"No," he said after considering my question for a bit. "I am concerned ki maine shayed zabardasti kardi tere saath."

"Woh toh ki hai."

A hand went around the back of my headset as his right palm gripped the steering, glance not shifting from the countdown at the signal. "The kind where you genuinely don't agree with me."

"I am a fan of good reasoning Gaurav, and unless this is some sort of an elaborate online prank, I agree with what you'd said that day."

"It's not a prank, but I do need something from you."

The signal turned green and we flowed in the midnight traffic. Eyes on the road, he said, "My content is getting stale. If we go ahead with this, then I'll have to turn our relationship, our marriage, into a brand of sorts." 

~.~

a/n

I'm well aware that I basically abandoned all my stories for more than a year and a half. Just getting back to this book. I'm not even sure if anyone is still reading but yeah, here's chapter 9 after a loooooooooooong delay. 

The fact that I started this story during COVID and it's been so long, so much has happened, that I can't even remember COVID, is pretty insane. But honestly, it's refreshing to get back to writing. Or more specifically, it's refreshing to get back to the kind of writing where I can make stuff up as I go, following my instinct, instead of being anxiety ridden over the need to find appropriate citations for every sentence I write. 

Until the next update!