Buffering Love Page 8

  She plodded along steadily on 1st gear. She caught sight of a couple of men wading through the water.

  Venu—who could only see this one car from the other end—banged the windows for help. The car was headed in his direction. Perhaps, it was his only hope to get out of this alive. Just then he saw who was driving the CR-V.

  From inside his Zen, he screamed her name.

  Menaka, on the other hand, was so focused on getting to his house that she didn’t hear a thing. She turned into Venu’s street and parked her car in front of his house. Drenched in the merciless rain, she ran inside the open gates up to his door and rang the bell.

  She waited for a few minutes before giving it another ring.

  She got back into the car and called him. She went to WhatsApp. Venu’s last seen stamp was 4:04 p.m.

  The rain pounded hard on her car. She thought it best to turn back. On her way back, she risked a shortcut. It was marginally better than the main road.

  The moment Menaka got home, she looked at her phone. There was still no call or message from Venu.

  A kind couple, also in an SUV, who were passing by Nagathamman Koil Road ten minutes later, spotted a lean boy with a panic-stricken face in a Zen. While her husband stopped the car, the lady stepped out, held her expensive sari a little above her knees, and approached the car. She used her hair clip to help open his door. They were also kind enough to drop him home.

  Venu clutched the book tightly on his way home. While the old couple sought to make idle conversation, all Venu could think about was his doomed Zen that by now had water all the way up to its windows. He didn’t even have insurance for the car.

  Venu came home and went straight to his mobile phone. He didn’t bother to see if he had missed any calls. He went straight to WhatsApp. The last seen stamp on Menaka’s chat was 4.34 p.m. The last message from her was still LoL.

  He replied with rage writ all over him. ‘I almost died, thanks to you, bitch.’ And with that he promptly uninstalled the app.

  From thereon, Menaka sent a flurry of messages that went undelivered. The college was closed for the next five days due to the floods that had paralysed the city.

  When college reopened, they never spoke again.

  Welcome Home

  Gopal and Dhara were the quintessential New Age couple. That they were from Chennai didn’t entirely exclude them from trying to be ‘millennial cool’. They earned so that they could spend. While Gopal plied his trade as an export manager for a textile company, Dhara was an accountant with one of Chennai’s leading chit funds.

  They had spent a considerable amount of time since their dating days to plan their honeymoon. Married at twenty-six and having saved for a year, they had just about amassed enough to take a much-desired trip to north India. Like true digital natives, they read about all the best hotels, restaurants and tourist sights on various recommendation engines and settled upon New Delhi.

  At each of the places, they booked their Airbnbs well in advance. After checking into Facebook and letting the world know that they were off from Chennai Airport on a day of torrential downpour, they landed in New Delhi after an energy-sapping flight in the world-class economy buckets of Air India.

  A sixty-minute ride from the airport brought them to Greater Kailash-2. Their first impression of New Delhi was that this vast city had better roads than Chennai.

  Dhara, who had led all the accommodation bookings, informed their host Debbie Malhotra that they were en route. Cheerful Debbie said their room was all set and they could knock on her apartment number 2B for the keys. The building name would be etched against the wall, ‘It reads Green Sanctum Apartments,’ Debbie said.

  Once the cab driver arrived at the destination and got their two large bags out of the boot of the car, he demanded his tip with a face that frowned rather munificently.

  Gopal and Dhara looked at the building in front of them. It was grey and looked newly painted. While all the houses on the other side of the road were like villas with lawns et al, Green Sanctum Apartments had two floors with a row of maybe three apartments on each floor.

  The neighbourhood indicated a certain degree of affluence. They had also caught a hip shopping complex nearby and a few catchy hubs on the way. ‘Not bad,’ they said in unison with a little giggle to themselves.

  With their bags in front of the building, Gopal whipped out his cellphone for a quick selfie. In the distance, he could see three men walking towards them. Two of them, who were further behind the third, were in crisp formal shirts and trousers.

  The third man, ahead of the other two, and who was approaching Gopal and Dhara hastily, was in a blue baseball cap, an Aerosmith T-shirt, and denims.

  Gopal put his mobile phone aside and looked at this man because it seemed like he wanted to say something. The man came right next to Gopal and Dhara and muttered something under his breath.

  Gopal pulled Dhara closer. He was composed but something about this man in casual street-style smarts didn’t seem right. Unable to understand what the man was saying, Gopal asked, ‘Sorry, are you saying something to me?’

  The man now muttered with a little more intent, ‘If you are staying with Debbie, tell these people coming behind me that you are her friends who have come over to stay.’

  Between a thick Delhi accent and the two thoroughbred Chennai folks, a lot was lost in transit. Gopal repeated, ‘Sorry, could you come again?’

  ‘You are here for Debbie, right? Tell these two folks coming behind me that you are her friends. Or just say that you came to meet Debbie at the bar called Cress Bistro. It’s around the block in GK-2 Market. Debbie and I will meet you there in fifteen minutes and explain everything.’

  Gopal caught the last part fairly well because the man slowed down his speech. He still couldn’t understand what the fuss was about. In the interim, the two gentlemen in formals got near Gopal and Dhara.

  The taller of the two extended his hand warmly. ‘Hi, I am Vikramjeet Saxena. We are with the Delhi Municipal Corporation.’ Vikramjeet looked like he made good use of his gym membership.

  ‘This is my colleague Basant Singh,’ Vikramjeet said, pointing at the other stocky mustachioed gentleman.

  ‘Hi, I am Gopal.’

  Meanwhile, the man in the Aerosmith T-shirt looked askance and went inside the complex of Green Sanctum Apartments.

  Dhara’s heart rate increased a tad. What could Gopal and Dhara have to do with these folks from the Delhi Municipal Corporation, she wondered.

  Vikramjeet continued, ‘You are here on vacation, sir, ma’am?’

  ‘That’s right, sir,’ Gopal deferred.

  ‘Basant and I had a tip-off about an Airbnb renting business here. You see, sir, the city laws do not sanction renting out of rented apartments and we have reason to believe that your owner is doing this illegally.’

  Gopal was stumped with this assertion. ‘We didn’t know about this, sir. We booked our stay on Airbnb’s official site. I mean, if we knew . . .’

  Dhara jumped in. ‘But our host Debbie Malhotra has a listed apartment on the Internet. How can it be allowed on Airbnb if it is illegal?’

  ‘It’s not as simple as it looks, ma’am. We suspect that the gentleman in the T-shirt and denims who just went inside is either Debbie’s boyfriend or husband. In fact, we have been trying to get a few witnesses for a while, but it looks like we got lucky today,’ said Basant. He shrugged his shoulders as he said this.

  Dhara and Gopal were flabbergasted.

  ‘But you don’t need to worry about anything, ma’am. Your stay won’t be affected in any way whatsoever.’

  ‘Okkkayyy . . . So we can go in?’ asked Gopal.

  ‘Absolutely. Please feel free to go in. Just one thing . . .’ Basant paused. ‘As you go inside, we will be taking a few pictures of you walking in. I hope that’s no trouble for you,’ he added.

  ‘Pictures? Why? We don’t want any pictures taken,’ Gopal chipped in, feeling a little confident now that this was
n’t turning into a mugging incident on the much-disgraced streets of New Delhi.

  ‘Since the original owner passed away, we know Debbie has been doing this illegally over the last few months. We have complaints from her neighbours as well about this. We need proof for our records and then it’s an open-and-shut case,’ said Vikramjeet.

  Sweet Debbie, thought Dhara, who had promised to take her to the nearby Furniture Market for shopping. Prompt Debbie, thought Dhara, who had replied to every query Gopal and Dhara threw her way. Nice Debbie, who had also thrown in breakfast as part of their stay every day in New Delhi for five days. Who does that! Debbie had only three reviews on the site but all of them were rated five stars. It didn’t matter that all the previous guests stayed only one night each. Interacting with Debbie over the last month, Dhara realized why they rated her highly. Because Debbie was exactly how every Airbnb host should be—nice, prompt and sweet.

  No, Dhara was not going to let these two Haryanvi inspectors get the better of nice, prompt and sweet Debbie.

  ‘Sorry, we wouldn’t like to be photographed. In fact, we wouldn’t like to be involved in this altercation between you and Debbie at all,’ Dhara spoke up for the first time.

  ‘There is no involvement as such. We will only stand here and take these pictures. That’s it. Umm . . . you might need to make an appearance in the court over the next three days. One swift hearing with the judge—two hours is all it will take, I assure you,’ pressed Vikramjeet.

  Gopal and Dhara exchanged a few short sentences in Tamil.

  ‘Sorry, we are not getting in here,’ Dhara said.

  ‘Okay, so where will you go?’ an irritated Vikramjeet asked.

  ‘In fact, we are here to go to Cress Bistro, mister. And you are right, we are meeting Debbie there. Do you want to take pictures of us heading towards the bar?’ Dhara replied defiantly.

  Cress Bistro was a nearby bar in Greater Kailash that came recommended from Debbie during one of the many e-mail exchanges. She said multiple times that Gopal and Dhara must try the food there. It was also rated high on Lonely Planet.

  ‘Listen, ma’am, we can all go back happy if we just nail this Debbie one time. I can’t tell you what a witch that woman is. She married her sick landlord just so that she could have this property to herself. That old man, probably thrice her age, kicked the bucket in January. Since then she has been using this property to sublet it on Airbnb,’ a serious Vikramjeet ranted.

  ‘You listen, mister. If you have a problem with Debbie, you take it up with Airbnb,’ Gopal said.

  ‘Do you know anything about New Delhi’s tenancy protection laws, sir?’ Basant asked.

  ‘We are done here. Honey, let’s head to Cress. It’s over the left corner, I think,’ said Dhara, turning away from Basant and Vikramjeet and dragging her heavy luggage across the road.

  Basant and Vikramjeet, exasperated, could feel the bird getting out of hand. They brought their City Council jeep towards the other end of the road and parked it in front of Green Sanctum Apartments.

  Cress Bistro was a dainty little pub laid out with exposed red bricks, a long bar section and plush comfortable leather seats. Gopal, a little distraught with all the mess, managed to get a table with a nice view of Greater Kailash.

  ‘Debbie told me that the chicken here is really good,’ said Dhara.

  ‘What are we doing here, Dhara?’ asked Gopal.

  ‘What! What do you mean? Debbie told me a lot of affluent people, even actors, frequent this pub because the chicken here is really good,’ said Dhara.

  ‘We are on holiday, Dhara. You had no business meddling with those inspectors there. I kept quiet for the most part there because I didn’t want to start this holiday with a fight. Why should we care about Debbie? Let’s book another room and be done with it.’

  ‘Gopal, we have paid Rs 20,000 for this booking. This was an expensive flat. I don’t want to be fighting with Airbnb disputing a claim later. Besides, Debbie and I have exchanged so many messages. I am telling you, she is the sweetest person on earth. Who else has a five-star reviewed apartment in this neighbourhood? Besides, she is also pregnant. Do we want her to be in this mess because of us? Think about it.’

  ‘Dhara, I am not staying in that apartment. There is a nice hotel around the block that we had shortlisted, if you remember. I am going to make a call to get us a booking there for the next five days.’

  ‘Yeah, no problem! But let’s just keep that poor woman out of it,’ Dhara stated.

  Gopal stepped out for ten minutes and came back with a smile on his face. ‘That’s it. Done. We finish lunch here and take a cab. It’s probably a ten-minute drive at best.’

  He called for a waiting staff. ‘We would like some water.’

  Dhara was just reading the menu but thinking about what Debbie might be going through bothered her. ‘I hope she is able to sort out her stuff with the officials.’

  ‘I don’t know about that. If she is so sweet, why hasn’t she called you back till now? That guy said fifteen minutes, right?’

  Right about then, Dhara’s phone buzzed.

  ‘There you go. She is calling now. Happy?’ Dhara jibed.

  ‘Hey Debbie! It’s so nice to hear from you. Are you okay?’ Dhara answered.

  In a quick chat Debbie mentioned that she was speaking from the apartment and could see the inspectors from her window. She apologized multiple times. ‘You know these city council inspectors have been trying to malign my name ever since my husband passed away. I know you had to go through a messy start but trust me I have alerted Airbnb about this. Whatever they are saying about sub-letting not being allowed is just not true. There are a million apartments from New Delhi on Airbnb. Where are you guys now?’

  ‘That’s all right, Debbie. Both Gopal and I are with you on this. You know it might seem like we have been mailing each other since the last month but it feels like I know you. They wanted to take pictures of us entering the building, but I refused and came straight to Cress Bistro,’ said Dhara.

  ‘One chicken tacos, please,’ an indifferent Gopal said to the waiting staff. ‘And she will tell you what she would like after this call.’

  ‘Dhara, I would have come to meet you at Cress but you know about my pregnancy. I can’t move around much. I had a feeling these guys would be there to harass you, which is why I sent over my boyfriend, Pervez, to meet you before you entered.’

  She paused for a sigh. Talking so much under stress can’t be good for a woman who was expecting, Dhara thought to herself.

  Debbie continued. ‘Some cranky neighbours who have got poor reviews have also turned against me. I guess both these inspectors got to you before Pervez could explain the situation. Normally, we just say we have friends staying over and it’s all fine,’ she assured.

  Dhara listened to Debbie’s concerns with a keen ear.

  ‘I will be sending Pervez over shortly to Cress. You guys just stay there,’ Debbie concluded.

  ‘Pervez, her boyfriend, is coming here to meet us,’ Dhara brought Gopal up to speed.

  She cajoled her husband into meeting Pervez one time before leaving. ‘Let’s hear their side of the story is all I am saying,’ she urged.

  ‘Fine,’ Gopal said, expressionless.

  Pervez, the man with the Aerosmith T-shirt and faded denims made an entry into Cress ten minutes later. He wasn’t wearing the cap any more.

  After a calm round of introductions, Pervez explained.

  ‘We are terribly sorry for what happened. The thing is that Debbie was staying with her landlord, Akash Malhotra, in this very building a few years ago. Akash was seventy-one then and didn’t have any heir. He fell in love with Debbie and promised her the house, but he passed away before putting it all on paper. Delhi State rules that if one dies without an heir, the apartment is to be transferred to the city council. That’s why the city council folks are keeping a watch on this. Debbie, on the other hand, is trying her best to prove how Akash was going to transfer the
property to her. Debbie had a few papers ready with her, but the old man passed away a day before he was to sign the will. I am her lawyer who was helping her through the mess of last year and we started spending more time with each other. And . . .’

  Pervez stopped. ‘We also decided to raise Akash’s child together. The child she is pregnant with is Akash’s,’ he explained.

  ‘That’s Akash’s child?’ Gopal asked, a bit surprised.

  ‘Yeah. I love Debbie so much; it didn’t matter to me. Akash was a nice guy. Everyone in the neighbourhood liked him. If only he were around. Pity he didn’t live long enough. The irony is that the city inspectors think that this child is mine,’ a fretful Pervez added.

  ‘I get it now,’ Gopal said. ‘But we don’t want to be involved in your apartment any more. I mean we should meet socially because my wife would love to meet Debbie, but we are going to write to Airbnb for a full refund as an exception.’

  ‘I know how Debbie and Dhara got along like a house on fire, and we completely understand and appreciate your honesty.’ Pervez looked down at the table to gather himself.

  ‘But to be completely honest with you, it just so happens that I was recently fired from my firm and in Debbie’s state we could have really done with the money. Could you consider staying over for one night and just pay us Rs 5000? That’s all we ask. Besides, even if you file for a refund, it’s going to take days and it is always doubtful when and where the money will come from. If you stay over for one night, you can claim a full refund for the remaining Rs 15,000 stating that you didn’t like the apartment or that the Wi-Fi wasn’t working. I know it’s a sticky one but given our situation, it would mean a lot,’ pleaded Pervez.

  ‘Allow us some time to discuss this, Pervez,’ Gopal requested.

  ‘Of course. Take your time and once again, sorry for the bother,’ Pervez said.