Page 22 of 12 Years: My Messed-up Love Story

‘We did it,’

he mouthed silently.

I could almost hea.

‘The Money Chant’, from the movie The Wolf of Wall Street, play somewhere in the background. I closed the offer document and set it aside.

‘The legal teams on both sides have checked this, right?’ I said.

‘Thoroughly,’ Max said.

I turned to Shailesh, the head of legal for SecurityNet.

‘Yes, we have,’

he said.

‘It’s good to go. Once all the parties sign, the transaction will close within thirty days.’

‘In that case,’

I said.

‘all we need now is a pen. Anyone?’

Payal took out a pen from her laptop bag and handed it to me.

‘Thank you, Payal,’ I said.

‘Before you sign, we have one request though,’

Neeraj said.

‘What?’ I said.

‘We’ll complete the signing here. However, we want to host a party next month, to celebrate the deal. We’d like you, Mudit and other senior members from SecurityNet to attend it,’

Neeraj said.

‘Oh, okay, sure. We can survive one party with you guys,’

I said, smiling.

‘When and where?’

‘Next month, after the transaction is fully complete. We’ll do it in Mumbai.’

‘In Mumbai?’

I said, blinking at Neeraj.

‘Well, yes. This is a big transaction for us. The event will help Blackwater and CloudX get great publicity. We also want to do some strategic media and PR meets.’

‘I haven’t been to Mumbai in years,’ I said.

‘We should go, bro,’

Mudit said.

‘It all began there. Let’s go back and see how far we’ve come.’

I looked at everyone in the room. My eyes stopped at Payal.

‘Don’t worry, we’ll throw a good party,’

she said with a smile.

‘Okay,’

Mudit said, raising his hand.

‘I just had an idea.’

‘What is it?’

Neeraj said.

‘We’ll do the event in Mumbai, but not at a boring hotel. I have the perfect venue for it—one connected to SecurityNet’s founders,’

Mudit said.

I turned to Mudit, raising an eyebrow.

‘I used to run a comedy club in Mumbai. I sold it to the club’s CEO a few years back, but it’s still around,’

Mudit said.

‘Let’s do it there.’

‘A deal-closing party at a comedy club?’

Neeraj said.

‘That place means a lot to us. And it’s not just a comedy club. It has a great bar and lounge. We can use that space,’

Mudit said.

‘Mudit, come on,’

I started, but he raised his hand to silence me.

‘And you know the wildest thing about that club? Saket used to perform there. As a stand-up comic,’

Mudit added.

‘What?’

Neeraj said.

‘That’s it then. We must do the event there. Maybe Saket could even perform for us?’

‘Ah, another superb suggestion,’

Mudit said, clapping his hands.

‘That sounds like a lot of fun,’ Max said.

‘It’ll be awesome. The origin story. The humble beginnings of SecurityNet’s founder at a comedy club,’

Philip said.

‘We’ll get amazing media coverage for that.’

‘Not to mention, the founder will also perform a stand-up set,’

Neeraj said.

‘Stop it, guys,’

I said.

‘Now, if you’re all done with your crazy party ideas, may I sign this multi-billion-dollar deal?’

‘Sure, yes,’

Neeraj said and laughed.

‘But I’m confirming your attendance at the Mumbai event. Whether you perform or not is up to you.’

‘I’ll come to Mumbai, yes. I’m not sure about doing the act,’ I said.

‘He’ll do it,’

Mudit said, winking at Neeraj.

‘Guys, let’s focus on the task at hand,’ I said.

I signed the offer document. The room burst into applause.

‘See you in Mumbai, Saket,’

Neeraj said, shaking my hand.

I walked up to Payal’s makeshift office at SecurityNet. She stood beside her desk, packing some documents into brown boxes.

‘Excuse me, may I come in?’

I said, gently knocking on the glass door.

Payal looked up.

‘Oh, Saket. Yes, please come in.’

‘Last-day packing?’

‘Yes,’

she said.

‘And congratulations again on signing the deal.’

‘To you as well,’

I said.

‘When do you leave Dubai?’

‘Day after. My flight is on Sunday evening.’

‘Okay. Any weekend plans?’

‘Nothing. Just packing. Maybe some last-minute shopping—though I hate shopping. But I’ll drag myself to Dubai Mall.’

‘Ah okay. I asked because I’m going to the temple tomorrow. Ever since the deal closed, I’ve been meaning to go. Would you like to join me?’

‘Oh yes. I would love to. I can meet you there directly?’

‘No, I’ll pick you up this time. Seven o’clock?’

‘Sure. That works.’

‘Also, this time, I don’t have any dinner plans after. Would you like to have dinner together?’

‘You sure? I’m happy to eat at the gurdwara again, or somewhere else by myself.’

‘No, let’s have dinner together. Tomorrow is your last night in Dubai, right?’

‘Yes.’

‘Cool. I’ll figure out a nice place,’

I said. ‘See you.’

‘Looking forward to it,’

she said with a happy smile.

I tapped one of the brown boxes on my way out.

‘Same here. Happy packing.’

‘I look like Mahira Khan in this, don’t I?’

Payal said to me, pointing at the sky-blue salwar kameez she’d worn for the temple visit. It had delicate white embroidery all over it.

‘Who?’ I said.

‘I bought this suit from a Pakistani boutique. Don’t I look like one of those actresses from Pakistani serials?’

‘I haven’t seen any,’

I said.

‘But you look nice.’

‘Thank you,’

she said, smiling and blushing a little.

‘Where are we going for dinner?’

she said a second later.

‘Tagine,’

I said. We were in the backseat of my car.

‘It’s a Moroccan place at the One&Only Royal Mirage.’

‘Fancy,’ she said.

‘It’s your last evening in Dubai, after all.’

She smiled, but her expression wasn’t enthusiastic.

‘We don’t have to go there,’

I said.

‘Would you rather we go somewhere else?’

‘No, I’m sure this will be nice,’ she said.

Why do girls say one thing when their face clearly says something else?

The car zipped along on Sheikh Zayed Road.

‘Okay, Payal? Look at me,’ I said.

She turned towards me. ‘Yes?’

‘Do you want to go somewhere else? Eat something unhealthy, unpretentious, fried and greasy from some hole-in-the-wall place? We can do that.’

‘No, not today. That was a rare and crazy 3 a.m. craving.’

‘It’s your last night, Payal. I want you to be happy. I know all kinds of places, so tell me.’

‘May I say what I really feel like eating?’

she said, excited.

‘Yes.’

‘I want hot dal chawal. Like simple ghar ka khana. It’s not fancy or exotic, but it’ll hit the spot.’

‘There are some Indian restaurants that can do that,’

I said.

‘But they are all still restaurants at the end of the day. Proper home-style food you’ll only get in one place.’

‘Where?’

‘My house. I have a cook, Shanti didi. She’ll make the kind of dal chawal you want.’

‘Like yellow dal?’

‘Whichever dal you want.’

‘With pickle and curd?’

‘We should have that at home, yes.’

‘With papad and ghee?’

‘Yes,’

I said, smiling.

‘I’m sure all that can be arranged as well.’

‘Done,’

Payal said excitedly.

‘Let’s go to your place then. I’ll get to see your home as well.’

I looked at Payal.

‘You sure?’ I said.

‘Yes.’

I turned to my driver.

‘We’ll go home instead, Riyaz,’ I said.

‘This is where you live?’

Payal stood in my living room, staring at its double-height ceiling.

‘This is home, yes,’ I said.

Shaking her head, Payal walked to one of the sofas and sank in. I went to the kitchen and asked Shanti didi to make some dal chawal for us and serve it with all the accompaniments Payal had asked for. Then I returned to the living room.

‘It’ll take about an hour to prepare the meal,’

I told Payal.

‘Do you want to sit outside in the garden?’

‘Sure,’

Payal said.

The manicured garden outside had an adjoining beach with a view of the waterfront and the villas on the next frond.

‘Wow,’

Payal said.

‘I knew you lived in a villa on the Palm, but this is just beautiful. And massive.’

‘Yes, a bit roomier than the Bandra place no?’ I said.

‘A bit?’

She laughed.

‘This is, what, ten times larger?’

‘More like twenty,’ I said.

‘I loved that Bandra place though. That ledge,’

Payal said. She looked out at the water, wearing the same contemplative expression that she used to have when staring out from the window ledge of my Bandra apartment.

‘You’ve come so far, Saket. You should feel proud of yourself,’

she said after a moment.

‘Thank you,’

I said.

‘God’s grace. I’m still the same person though. Sometimes, even I can’t believe this is my house. I feel like an imposter.’

‘You deserve every bit of the success you’ve worked so hard for,’

Payal said.

‘Thanks. Listen, I’m such an idiot—I didn’t offer you anything to drink. What would you like? Tea? Soda? Juice? Wine?’

‘I would love a glass of wine. Look at this view. How lovely it would be to sip some wine and sit here in the evenings …’

I went back inside, opened a bottle of white wine, put on some music over the Bluetooth speakers in the garden, and returned with the wine and two wine glasses.

‘Cheers,’

I said, pouring the wine for both of us.