• Constants •

Booked

"You know," Lavanya said. "If you are thinking about her so much, you can call her. In fact, you should." 

Sumer removed his head from the window lattice and turned around. Looking at Lavanya, he raised a brow. "What?"

Lavanya continued to rhythmically chop the vegetables. She disliked it whenever Sumer zoned out like that because she was empathetic enough to know that he must be thinking of that boisterous writer friend of his. But she didn't let her emotions show on her face. She was a master at keeping her face poker. 

"Tanie. You should call her."  

Sumer glared at her. He walked towards the kitchen island and crossed his arms. In an incredulous tone, he questioned, "Why?" 

Lavanya's movements stopped. She looked at him and shrugged. "For starters, because you look like you miss her."

Sumer looked away. He felt a sudden surge of annoyance build up in his chest. It was true that ever since that damned night, he had thought of little else but Tanie. Why had Tanie reignited the doused fire in his heart only to choose Karan again was beyond him? He was doing just fine without this misery. He had learned to live with the anger, the guilt, the remorse and above all, the disappointment. He had felt like he could move on.

But Tanie had sucked him back into the familiar vortex of self-doubt and anguish yet again. It had happened during Rehaan. It had happened during Kabir. It had happened during Zayed.

It was happening yet again. 

Strangely, he still felt nauseous and light-headed every time he thought of living a life without Tanie. What was about her? Why couldn't he just put a full stop to her chapter in his life and just move on?  

Sumer pressed a palm over his forehead and squeezed his eyes shut. Then he inhaled slowly. Once. Twice. Thrice. 

Calming down, he replied hoarsely. "I do. I don't want to. But I do."

Lavanya didn't say anything for the longest time. Sumer let himself look at her. She was stirring the curry in the pot now. Her posture looked like she had nothing to say. 

Stiffening, Sumer felt like he owed an explanation to Lavanya. Out of all the people around him, only she and Titu knew what exactly he was feeling.  

He tugged at his earlobe and explained, "I guess, it is out of habit now. I was always around Tanie and even when we broke up, I still kept missing her. It feels like my brain is trained that way." 

Lavanya softly kept the wooden spoon aside. She covered the curry pot with a lid and grabbed a bottle of red wine. She placed two wine goblets on the counter and poured them some wine. 

Handing the glass to him, she said, "Heart."

Sumer knitted his brows and cluelessly stared at her. Lavanya pressed a hand on the counter and leaned over it slightly. Smiling, she asked, "Don't you see my father? His brain has forgotten. But his heart remembers. The heart never forgets."

Sumer blinked. He looked at Lavanya in awe and whispered, "You should try writing."  

She chuckled awkwardly. "I don't know about that."  

Understanding her awkwardness, Sumer pointed at the pot and changed the topic. "Writing can wait but you can surely cook. I am surprised. When did you learn?"

Lavanya picked up her glass and directed Sumer towards the small couch that was kept near the kitchen window. Both of them settled there comfortably.

She pulled the throw over their legs to keep the London chill away and told Sumer, "Dad and I used to cook a lot. Spaghetti and meatballs used to be our favourite go-to dish. I learned the ropes from him. I had stopped in the middle but I revisited it during the pandemic. There was nothing much to do then."