One Indian Girl by Chetan Bhagat

(Tina Sui) #1

‘You had weed in Goa?’ I said.
‘Yeah. You can get it at Anjuna. There are some shops behind the shack. I don’t know if they
still operate. But we scored from there.’
‘Mr Brijesh Gulati, you do have a past.’
He laughed. ‘Most of it is around studying to top the class and get a scholarship to the USA.
But yes, we did some fun stuff.’
‘Should we try some?’
‘You want to smoke weed? Now?’ he said, startled.
‘Yeah. Or is it too much for a good Indian bride to smoke a joint a couple of days before the
wedding?’
‘No, no, nothing like that.’
‘Too feminist?’
‘No, Radhika. Nothing like that. How can we smoke up? We have all our relatives here.’
‘Not at Anjuna. See if you can get some.’
He looked at me. I gave him a wicked grin. He stood up.
‘Give me fifteen minutes,’ he said.


‘Come behind the rocks. Nobody will see us,’ Brijesh said as I took a drag.
We had left Curlies and come up to a remote corner on Anjuna beach. Brijesh rolled three
joints. We started with our first one.
‘You have done this before?’ he said.
‘No, but I always wanted to try,’ I said.
‘Go slow,’ he said.
With each drag my mind became more calm, my senses more numb. The stress of Debu
hovering around the Marriott went up in smoke. Brijesh also didn’t feel as unfamiliar.
‘Wow, this reminds me of my college days,’ he said.
‘Bet your parents never thought this is the kind of bahu they are getting,’ I said.
He shrugged.
‘What kind of bahu?’
‘This kind. Smoking up on the beach before her wedding. It’s not what good Indian bahus do.’
‘If their son can do this, why can’t the bahu?’ he said.
‘Now that is feminism,’ I said and high-fived him.
‘Everything doesn’t need hi-fi labels like feminism. Just logic. If I can do it, you can do it.’
‘You are sweet.’
‘Isn’t sweet the word women use when they aren’t attracted to a guy but don’t want to hurt him
either?’
‘Smart you are, Mr Facebook. Not too duh about girls.’
‘Well, in this aspect I am good. Been Mr Sweet all my life.’
‘Sweet is good,’ I said and took the last puff of the joint.
He smiled.
‘Shall we head back? It will get late,’ he said.

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