Latika ambled next to me, trying to make conversation, but I was too involved in what was happening on my screen. I just couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. We called a taxi back to my apartment, and for the first time that day, I put my phone away. I had plenty of material to use over the next week as fillers between promotional posts; my numbers were growing, and I couldn’t pinpoint the reason I felt so uneasy. Perhaps I just needed a drink and something to eat. I had enough fruits and vegetables to feed an army; healthy lifestyles were trending, and I wanted to give the impression that I had also subscribed to being healthy. I turned to Latika, who was staring thoughtfully out the window, clutching her black plastic packet.

‘Show me your dress, then?’ I felt a bit bad for ignoring her the whole day, and I couldn’t afford to have her sulking. If she refused to come to the club opening, there was literally no one else I could ask. Enthusiastically, she pulled out the dress. I nodded my head in approval; it was a good choice for her small frame, and with a little bit of my special touch, she would look lovely.

‘So, tell me about this new guy in your life.’

She clapped her hands in glee. ‘Do you remember the shirtless guy who was bringing us shots at the Goa Music Festival?’

I nodded, although I had to admit that I would not recognise him if I saw him right then.

‘He is such a gentleman,’ she said giddily. She recounted their dates and how he kept in touch with her throughout the day without making her feel like she was his possession. That was one thing Latika and I had in common—we were both once owned by Gaurav. Both dictated to, possessed and eventually discarded by him. At that moment, I realised something: I didn’t know if I liked her and if she was someone I would normally be friends with, but she and I were connected by the pain another human being had inflicted on us. Bound by Gaurav, a man we wished we could forget but knew we could not.

‘That’s so great,’ I said to her. Handing back her dress, I gave her hand a light squeeze, not knowing why the feeling of another person’s skin touching mine made me want to flee and cry.

20. ASHRAY

20

ASHRAY