One Indian Girl by Chetan Bhagat

seaplane in an hour. I didn’t know how to face him. I didn’t want to. Could we go back on separate
flights? Could I just go drown in the sea outside?
I wondered where Neel was. What if he didn’t wake up? Should I call him?
I heard a knock on my door. I froze. I opened the door to find one of the hotel staff.
‘Madam, your shoes. You left them in the restaurant last night.’
‘Oh, sure, thanks,’ I said.
‘I returned sir’s shoes to his room.’
‘Great. Was he there?’
‘Yes, he was. He asked me to tell you to meet in the seaplane reception area in thirty minutes.’
‘Sure,’ I said, relieved. I didn’t have to talk to him just yet. I showered and changed into a
charcoal-grey suit. It was too formal and a misfit for my location but apt for my mental state. As if he
would see me in this work suit again and things would be back to normal.
Funnily enough, he did seem pretty normal.
‘Hey, good morning,’ he said and smiled. He wore sunglasses, just like me. We had found a
way to avoid eye contact.
‘Hi,’ I said.
‘All set? Time to say goodbye to the Pengalusian,’ he said. His voice seemed casual. He
seemed calm, unlike the neurotic mess I was.
We sat in the plane. The pilot gave a thumbs-up as we took off. I ignored the beautiful scenery
below us, as my mind was flooded with doubts. Instead of regret, another set of thoughts gripped me.
How is he so calm and casual? Did it mean nothing to him?
I looked out of the window, away from him. My mind was on nothing but him.
Is this a regular thing for him? He doesn’t think this was special? Have there been other
girls? Oh, am I also just a conquest now? I hate him.
The seaplane landed. We stepped out and took a car to the Palawan airport. He looked at me. I
looked away. We reached the airport and took our connecting flights back to Hong Kong. On the way,
we spoke little, limiting ourselves to stupid conversations like ‘Where’s the gate?’ at the transit
airport in Manila or ‘Can you pass the pepper?’ during our meal in the Cathay Pacific aircraft.
I don’t know why grown-ups behave in such a stupid manner. Pepper seemed more important
than anything else. I opened my laptop and pretended to work. He did the same. My mind raced up
and down with thoughts. I have been such a fool. He will go home, tick another box in his conquest
list and laugh about it. He will be like, that Indian VP chick? Check. Been there, done that desi
babe. Damn it, Radhika. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
We landed in Hong Kong. We went to the airport car pick-up point. We waited for our
respective cars, which Bianca had booked for us. Our two black cars arrived. I proceeded to step
into mine.
‘Radhika,’ Neel said.
‘Yeah,’ I said and turned to him.
‘I know you probably have a million thoughts in your head. So do I.’
‘What thoughts?’ I said. ‘Excuse me?’
Let’s pretend nothing happened. That would be a mature way to deal with it, right?
‘About last night?’ he said, puzzled.
I shrugged my shoulders.
‘Haven’t really had a chance to think about it,’ I said. Yeah, more like, haven’t thought of
anything but that.