Alvida is a Hindi term used to convey goodbye. That said, Alvida is much more than a goodbye... it is an emotion.
I never thought Pari would say it to me. I look at the half-empty wine bottle, my vision blurred by both tears and the alcohol, I can't make out just how much I have drank. But I know that it is not nearly enough to put me out of my misery. Oh no no no! No amount of drinking can do that.
I get up from the sofa and try to walk out. My steps are groggy, either due to the alcohol or my turbulent conscience, I can't ascertain which. Which is why I hit my head on the woodwork as I leave the private space. I don't feel any pain at the place of impact; I don't know if that is due to intoxication or because I am dead on the inside. Either way I can't sense any physical pain right now. I make my way out of the Rest Area.
As I shift my blurred gaze around I make out the outline of a girl. Her outfit looks very familiar. I blink in an attempt to clear my vision and take another look. I have regained some focus and see that it is Pari. She walks over to the bar where a guy accompanies her. My vision is getting blurry again and I blink once more. I make out that the guy is Dalbir. They are walking towards the exit and he rests his hand on the small of her back... and she lets it stay there! I bite my lip in both anger and pain. It suddenly dawns on me that he is her guy and that her intimate space is his now. I guess my mind subconsciously chose to disbelieve Pari's marriage and created a barrier around her which would keep away every guy other than me from getting close to her. But the sight of Dalbir walking her out of the club has shattered my delusion.
"Sir, do you need help?" A club attendant offers.
It takes me a few seconds to redirect my focus onto him. He repeats the question.
"No... I'm fine!" I stagger away.
He does not follow me like I thought he would; he goes about doing his usual work. As I walk with shaky steps a girl bumps into me; it's hardly any impact but my drunken motor coordination topples me over. On the floor I gaze up at her. She mutters an apology and then walks away like nothing happened. I try to push myself up using my arms but fail. Then as I try to do so again I feel a pair of sturdy hands raise me up. I look at the person pulling me up; he is huge pack of muscles. I figure that he is a club bouncer.
"Come on buddy, let's get you home." Says he.
"Yeah." I am on my feet now.
"I can call a cab for you." He offers. He has got my arm around his shoulder as he walks me towards the exit door.
"Just get me to the exit and I'll be fine." I try to walk on my own but my knees give way after a few strides, if it were not for the hefty guy supporting me, I doubt I'd make it to the exit by myself.
The cold night breeze stings a little as I stagger down the stairs at the nightclub exit. One of the valets help me till the gate; more because they don't want me falling in front of an oncoming car from the parking lot than from the club hospitality. At the gate I give him a small tip and he thanks me for it. As I exit the gate, a middle aged man sporting a khaki shirt approaches and offers to take me home. I look around and notice the line of autorickshaws parked alongside the footpath.
"No thanks. My house is a walkable distance from here." I politely decline.
"In your condition I don't think walking is a very good idea, sir." He is rather insistent.
"That is true my friend," I have already spent so much money at the club, I don't think I would have enough to pay him "but I don't really have enough to cover your fare. Sorry bro."
YOU ARE READING
Taken for Granted
Romance"By the way, did you do it?" "No." I shake my head. I was supposed to confess my feelings to Noora today. But, like the past nine hundred and ninety nine times, I couldn't build up the courage to do it. "Dude! Are you really gonna keep pushing it?"...
