Kiss and Tell by Nistula Hebbar

Author:Nistula Hebbar [Hebbar, Nistula]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9788184756050
Publisher: Penguin Books Ltd
Published: 2012-02-07T00:00:00+00:00

Ten

Saturday dawned bright and sunny, with fine weather and that nippy feel in the air Delhi got in the autumn, just before the winter hit. Janaki took a long shower and washed her hair and, as she got ready, wished that the butterflies in her stomach would calm down. It wasn’t like this was her first time, but with Vishnu she felt all sorts of apprehensions.

Across town Vishnu was having the hardest time getting out of the house. ‘Beta, at least spend one Saturday with your mother,’ Indira Singh said almost as a plea.

‘Ma, please, I need to get somewhere. We’ll have dinner together, okay?’ He hadn’t wanted to have dinner out that night but it seemed his mother wouldn’t stop her nagging till he did.

‘Okay, beta, if that’s the time you can spare for your mother,’ she said resignedly.

This was one of the oldest tricks that mothers used to make their children feel guilty. Vishnu protested, ‘Ma, please, don’t be like that,’ and sat down with her. His phone beeped a message. ‘Oye, waiting,’ it said, and it was from Janaki. He had to pick her up from a common point near Ranbir’s house and they would continue in his car. He patted his mother’s hand, hugged her and left. It took him a good twenty-five minutes to reach Janaki, who was standing around sipping a latte looking beautiful in a demure salwar kameez.

‘Hi,’ he said. ‘I’m so sorry to be late, baby, my mother …’ he trailed off and sighed.

Janaki shrugged and got into the car. ‘Oh, sorry, did you want some coffee?’ she asked.

Vishnu frowned and said no. When a woman does not react to an apology you can take it for granted that she is truly pissed off, someone had once said to him.

‘Are you angry with me?’ he asked, and almost cursed himself for laying himself open to an angry tirade.

‘Nope, you said your mother detained you,’ she said formally. Just then her phone rang, and she picked it up and said, ‘Sorry, the call dropped suddenly. Did you manage to get a nice guitar?’ Then, giggling and laughing, she proceeded to chat with whoever it was for a good fifteen minutes.

When she hung up, they were nearly there, and it was Vishnu’s turn to be a little pissed off. ‘Had a good chat?’ he asked sarcastically.

‘Oh yes, we were chatting as I was waiting for you, I could hardly stop once you turned up.’

‘Hmmm,’ he said, getting the point but still pissed off. ‘Who was it?’

‘Oh, just Uday Pratap Singh, the NRP MP. He’d called up a couple of weeks ago. His son is learning the guitar and he wanted to pick up a new one,’ she said nonchalantly. Inside though, she was seething. She had been planning this day for weeks and this man had had the guts to keep her waiting.

‘What are you, an agent for an instruments shop?’

‘How dare you use that tone with me? At least I answered a genuine

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