One Indian Girl by Chetan Bhagat

‘That’s there. I still want to do it,’ Brijesh said.
‘So then?’
‘Facebook is hard to leave. The salary, stock options and benefits. Plus, I would need funding.
Arranging all that, leaving that level of security takes a lot. Just simpler this way.’
I nodded. We had to talk beyond work. Fortunately, he switched topics.
‘I love Goa,’ he said. ‘I am here after a decade. We came here from our engineering college.
Of course, not to such fancy resorts. We stayed in a simple place. Ate at the shacks.’
‘I love the shacks.’
‘You will love San Francisco too,’ he said.
‘I have lived in New York. Never on the West Coast.’
‘California is different from New York. More laid-back.’
‘Even our group at Goldman is supposed to be more chilled out in San Francisco.’
‘How’s that coming along? Your transfer done?’
My phone buzzed twice.
‘Sorry, phone. Maybe mom needs something,’ I said.
‘Sure,’ Brijesh said.
I had two messages from an unknown number. The number started with ‘+1’. Someone in the
USA, I figured.
‘Hey, heard you are getting married. True?’ said the first message.
‘This is Debu, by the way. Hope you remember me,’ said the second.
Debu? Debashish Sen! After what, like, three years? Debu was messaging me?
‘Hi,’ I typed back. He replied immediately.
‘Hi, Radhika. How are you? Took me a while to hunt for your number. Been wanting to talk to
you.’
‘Everything okay?’ Brijesh said, noticing how preoccupied I was with my phone.
‘Huh? Yeah, all good,’ I said, my voice nervous. I lowered the phone and clenched it in my
hand.
‘So, all done?’ Brijesh said.
‘What?’
‘Your transfer. We were just talking about it.’
‘Huh? Yes, yes. It’s done, mostly. I will have to shuttle between London and San Francisco a
few times, for my existing investments. But it is done.’
My phone buzzed three more times, vibrating in my hand. I should have ignored it. However,
there is something about buzzing phones—my obsessive-compulsive disorder makes me look at them.
After all, it could be mom or Aditi didi. It wasn’t.
‘Hey baby. I just want to say I am sorry,’ Debu’s message said. He continued:
‘I found out you are getting married.’
‘I couldn’t believe it.’
I had to reply to this.
‘Why? You didn’t think anyone would?’ I typed back.
Having reached the end of the garden, Brijesh and I turned around to stroll back.
‘We have to find a place to stay. Facebook is in Menlo Park, Goldman Sachs is downtown,
right?’ Brijesh said.
‘Huh? What is downtown?’ I said, my mind still on Debu’s message.
‘Goldman Sachs. San Francisco office,’ Brijesh said, each word slow and deliberate. After