Page 44 of Musafir Cafe

‘That’s how Sudha was. Her parents’ marriage had gone sour. Apart from that, she was a lawyer, and witnessing so many divorce cases every day made her really unsure about marriage. She was scared of marriage.’

After narrating this story, Chandar took a large gulp of champagne, while Pummy downed a large sip of silence. A little bit of sadness emanated from the flickering candle on the table and spread to their faces.

Pummy cast aside her sadness and told Chandar, ‘You didn’t understand such a small thing?’

‘No, what can I do? Not every day is the same. It is never the same. Anyway, I don’t want to talk about it anymore.’

‘No issues.’

‘You tell me. What’s your story?’

‘I did tell you about it. My story doesn’t have so much emotion or drama, yaar. Just fell in love twice intensely. Once, it was pure-love-wala love, the other time it was pure-sex-wala love.’

‘Pure-sex-wala love is a new concept to me. What’s the difference between the two?’

‘Nothing. Both were pure. Both were really good talkers.’

‘Then, you never thought about marriage?’

‘I did.’

‘Then why didn’t you go ahead?’

‘Thinking about marriage made our conversations boring. Whether you agree or not, marriage is boring by default. It’s not the fault of the people getting married; it is a design flaw, you know.’

‘That way all of life is boring.’

‘It is, but I didn’t want the boredom of marriage. In fact, I think if I ever get married, I will marry the guy who can keep me entertained with his conversations.’

‘There goes all your hope. Anyway, it is not someone’s conversations we get bored of, but their habits. When you find someone whose habits don’t bore you, then get married ASAP. Or if you don’t feel like getting married to someone, then go for it.’

‘Hmm … what do you think about love? You have read so many books, after all.’

‘Love is just another kind of habit.’

‘Then what would you do about your Sudha habit?’

‘No idea, what else can one do but build a new habit?’

‘You should go back, how can she manage on her own?’

‘Yeah, maybe I will go back in a few days.’

‘All right, enough of these sad conversations, say something nice.’

‘I’ll get a room in the café to stay, right?’

‘Of course, yaar; you don’t have to ask. I was about to tell you that we will also keep a lot of books there. If you stay, you can sit in the café downstairs and narrate stories to children and I’ll listen to them too. I like Panchatantra a lot, Harry Potter too. I’ll talk to Ruskin Bond Sir as well. We’ll invite him to narrate stories.’

After this, both of them talked for hours about random things. The champagne bottle ran out. Soon, it was eleven. Pummy and Chandar’s old habits started looking for new ones—in each other.

They came out of the club and started to stroll on the road. Soon, Mussoorie’s weather cheered up and spread mist in the air. It added a certain sense of comfort to their stroll. It wasn’t about the future, but about that evening. When Honeymoon Inn came along, Chandar told Pummy that he always wanted to come here to celebrate his honeymoon.

When they reached Chandar’s hotel, Pummy said, ‘Come on, show me your room.’

‘Why? What will that tell you?’

‘Arré, why can’t I see it? Who knows what’s in your room? I should at least know who you are.’