The Tattoo

It was a particular humid day in the city of dreams – the weather was peculiar, a smattering of grey clouds dotting the pristine blue sky but no wind, and absolutely no sign of the rains Mumbai was so famous for even though it was already July. A young man stood at the gates of Savitribai Phule Girl’s Hostel with a bunch of pink roses in hand, wondering what excuse he could make this time to get past the strict matron and actually visit his girlfriend. He knew the whole drill by heart now; after all he did have the unfortunate tendency to aggravate her girlfriend more often than advisable. It couldn’t be helped really, he thought, the teasing and sly remarks were all supposed to be part of his charms, and wasn’t that one of the reasons she loved him? Of course the unbelievable handsome face, shiny silky hair and brilliant smile were an added advantage, not to mention his incredibly sexy body… which she hadn’t seen yet, but surely his shirts and t-shirts had revealed some of his shape to her. He hoped it had… Today he needed every damn advantage he had.

He sighed, walking inside the gates, trepidation settling in at the sight of the open window on second floor… He was so familiar with that, waiting for the perfect night, the perfect opportunity to climb up and give a surprise visit to his girlfriend. But there was still time for that… Today all he wanted and wished was for her to talk to him again, and agree for the lunch date he had planned. God… If only he hadn’t been such an ass yesterday… How could he have spoken to her in that tone? How could he have implied that it was her responsibility to sort out his homework just because they were dating? How could he have said that her dress was ugly when it was the cutest thing he had ever seen? His temporary madness had resulted in her stomping his foot, pushing him onto the gardener’s precious rose bushes, followed by a short succinct “go to hell.” Just the fact that she hadn’t cried or ranted was enough for him to know that he was in deep-deep trouble… It was the first time she hadn’t gone off the handle and blasted him with her rebuke, subjected him to more than 10 minutes of ranting, and cried buckets of tears until her eyes were swollen… He hated that sight; it nearly broke his heart… But yesterday’s look of disappointment and resignation had simply shattered his heart in million pieces. He had followed her like a puppy to ensure she reached her hostel safely, even though she had walked the 2 kilometers distance rather than taking a taxi or bus. He had stood outside the boundary wall, looking up at the lights of her room until 1am, and even after that when her room was dark indicating the occupant had slept but he had known in his heart that she hadn’t. Today was holiday, and he was determined to do everything necessary to placate her, even if he had to declare his love in-front of the entire hostel he would.

Someone growled, snapping him out of his reverie and he blinked, his vision filling with the scary 40 year old matron… The woman was shorter than him, but with the tight high bun, round black glasses, light blue uniform saree, and a permanent scowl on her face, she was downright scary. No wonder this was the only girl’s hostel in Mumbai having no cases of indiscipline and rowdiness in the last 5 years, ever since Ms. Sandhya Rane was appointed as the matron.

“Sameer Maheshwari”, the woman spat his name in distaste, “phirse yahan kya kar rahe ho?”

He gulped, “good morning madam… Naina se milna hai.”

“Kyun?” The woman prodded, “Subah 4 baje tak bahar khade the woh kam tha?”

Good lord… The lady was scary.

“Uh… Naina naraaz hai mujhse”, he replied, “usko manana hai… please…”

The woman rolled her eyes and held out a hand, “id.”

Without a word he handed over his driving license as security, and signed the register after duly filling out the details. He sauntered up the stairs giving himself a mental pep talk, revising his apology speech, recollecting the new words he had picked from the dictionary to compliment her. Hopefully it all should work…

Room number 204 printed in white on the deep blue circle, next to the door, seemed to mock him, demotivate him… Taking a deep breath, he rapped his knuckles on the wood, waiting… There was some shuffling inside, and the door opened revealing the girl of his dreams who unfortunately right now looked furious. But behind the anger he could see the red-rimmed eyes letting him know that she had cried, the dark circles telling him of a sleepless night, and the paleness of her skin indicating skipped dinner and maybe breakfast too. And stupidly enough that was the first thing he asked, “tumne breakfast kiya?”

She was momentarily surprised but soon her expression turned into a mix of disbelief and sadness. Her voice had an edge, “jao yahan se.”

As she tried to close the door, he quickly stopped it with a hand, “Naina… I am sorry… Tum jaanti ho main woh sab nahi bolna chahta tha.” She crossed her arms, rolled her eyes but stayed silent. He added, “I am so sorry… Main bilkul pagal hun… Bina soche samjhe bol deta hun kuch bhi… Tumhe mera homework karne ki koi zaroorat nahi hai, naa hi meri help karne ki zaroorat hai… Hum same college me, same class me padhte hai… Apne homework aur assignments main khud karunga, jaise itne saal se karta aaya hun… Main bas… Main bas chahta tha ke tum meri help karo thoda… Main thode achche marks score karna chahta tha.”

She scoffed, “basically… meri help se teacher ko bewakuf banana chahte the… Tumhare assignment ka kuch portion main katu taaki tumhe zyada marks mile.”

He vigorously shook his head, “nahi… main samjha nahi paaya… uh… please mere saath lunch pe chalo… main kuch batana chahta hun tumhe.”

She rolled her eyes once more, completely familiar with his placating techniques, “mujhe pata hai tum kya kar rahe ho Sameer. Hamesha ki tarah koi stupid si kahani banake mujhe bahar le jaana chahte ho taaki mera gussa kam ho jaaye… Par iss baar nahi…”

Panic enveloped him, and he hastened to clarify, “Naina… iss baar main jhooth nahi bol raha… sach… main tumhare birthday tak wait karna chahta tha tumhe batane ke liye. Par kal ke baad, I guess, mujhe tumhe bata dena chahiye sab.”

Her eyes narrowed, “fine… toh abhi batao… yahan…”

He sighed, “c’mon sweetheart… sirf ek chota sa lunch date…”

“nahi”, she resolutely replied, “main tumhare jhaanse me nahi aane wali.”

He pulled out the flowers from his back, “see… tumhare favorite… pink roses…”

She couldn’t stop herself from taking the flowers, but at the same time tears bloomed in her eyes, “aur kal aise hi ek pink dress ko tumne ganda bola.”

He pushed open her door fully and reached out to cup her face in his hands, “gadha hun main… tumhara kal wala pink dress mujhe bahot zyada cute lagta hai… mere muh se gusse me nikal gaya… Please Naina… don’t cry… warna main bhi ro dunga…”

She sniffed, “jhoothe…”

“Sach”, he assured, wiping a drop that had leaked onto her cheek, “lunch pe chalo please…”

She shook her head, trying to pull back from him… He mentally cursed himself once more for hurting her like this, his gaze darting around her room, trying to gain some inspiration to think of something that could convince her. In a few seconds he blinked… There were a few pencil sketches pinned to the soft board… Of course! How could he forget that he was already prepared…

Looking back down at her, holding her gaze, he softly declared, “agar tum mere saath aati ho lunch date pe abhi, toh… main… tumhe apna naya tattoo dikhaunga.”

She gasped, her eyes widening, and he spotted the sparkle of curiosity in the caramel depths. But soon her eyes flashed in accusation, “jhooth bol rahe ho… Koi tattoo nahi hai…”

“I promise main jhooth nahi bol raha”, he assured, “sach me tattoo hai.”

She huffed, “proof do… dikhao mujhe… warna main nahi manne wali.”

He quirked a brow, and drawled, “Sweetheart… I love you… Par main stupid nahi hun… The condition is lunch date… Simple… Mere saath lunch pe chalo aur wapas aake main tumhe apna tattoo dikhaunga.”

She bit her lower lip, deliberating, but the curiosity was back in her eyes, “kahan hai?”

He smirked, pointing to a spot on his chest, right over his heart, “yahan…”

Her eyes flickered to his chest, covered by the grey-white checkered shirt, and she gulped, somehow managing, “jhooth…”

“100% sach”, he assured.

She quickly asked, “kaisa design hai?”

He let out a low laugh, “no cheating sweetheart… lunch date ke exchange me tattoo dikhaunga.”

She scrunched her nose, “that’s blackmail.”

He ignored her whining, his eyes flashing in triumph because he knew she had surely caved and was only pestering him now. Smirking at her, he shrugged, “it’s deal…”

She looked between him and the roses she held in her hands, and sighed, “fine… par main abhi bhi naraaz hun.”

He nodded, “I know…”

Shaking her head at her own lack of willpower and the way she caved in to his demands, she pushed him outside and slammed the door shut. There was no way she was going to invite him today… Let him stew outside while she got ready. It was the least he could put up with.

She took her time, more than she needed, dressing up in grey jeans and a burgundy capped sleeve top. Pulling her hair up in a ponytail, she smiled slyly because she knew he preferred that she left her hair down. She meticulously lined her eyes with kohl and filled her lips with a shade of rose pink. A pair of simple silver earrings, slim watch, and her favorite black pumps matched with her black purse completed her ensemble. She checked the watch, realizing it was more than 20 minutes now, and smirked a bit, opening the door, expecting to see him frustrated and annoyed… But instead he was leaning nonchalantly against the parapet, a booted foot bent at knee to take support of the wall, his arms crossed over his chest, stretching the fabric of his shirt over his biceps and his gaze flicking over the four potted plants she kept as if analyzing the leaves and blooms… However, while he was focused on the plants, she noticed that more than usual girls were now out on the shared balcony, ogling at the boy that was hers… Something surged up inside her, and she let his eyes rove over his body before turning to lock her door. When she turned she was satisfied that his gaze was locked over her rather than wandering around. And her body thrummed in delight when he let out a low whistle of appreciation, his voice almost a rasp as he said, “wow… so beautiful…”

She couldn’t help the color that flushed her cheeks, and he took the slight amenability as an opportunity to move one step further towards her forgiveness, as he extended his hand out to her… His heart fluttered in happiness when she obliged, slipping her dainty fingers on his waiting palm and he quickly clasped her hand reveling in the feel.

Together they walked down the stairs – ignored the annoyed harrumph from the matron – across the foyer and outside the gate. He kick started his bike, gesturing her to sit and she swung her legs to straddle the sun warmed seat. The restaurant he had chosen was a new one in, with classy interiors, claiming to provide a perfect ambience and experience at affordable rates. He knew that given it was so new there won’t be many patrons, and that was what he needed today – privacy to talk. He could have taken her to a premium restaurant, but then she would have been uneasy with him flaunting his wealth, and today he needed her to be agreeable. Hence the pink roses for her, although he personally preferred blood red ones – ravishing like her. Maybe someday… If he didn’t manage to screw up the relationship with her, someday he would see her sprawled on his bed, surrounded by blood red rose petals while he kissed the daylights out of her.

Soon they were seated at the table he had reserved and he was pleased to see the single blood red rose in a small white ceramic vase at the center of the table. He placed the order and smiled at her, only to see her eyes narrowed, and he hastily clarified, “yeh maine nahi rakha… dekho… sab table pe hai…”

She made a small impatient sound low in her throat, and then spoke aloud, “idhar-udhar ki baate mat karo… jo batane yahan laaye ho woh batao. Iss baar kya bahana banaoge?”

He sighed, deflating a bit at her sharp retort, his abundant confidence wavering slightly, and he closed his eyes to keep it from her. It was a failed attempt though… Because she noticed the chink in his armor immediately; her gaze softened, and she reached out to place her hand over his. “Sorry”, she mumbled, feeling slightly ashamed of repeatedly calling him a liar.

He shook his head, opening his eyes once more, “nah… it’s alright. Main kaafi baar bahane banata hun, par tum mujhe pakad leti ho. Lekin iss baar bilkul sach bol raha hun… Actually… Uh… Maine office ka kaam sikhna shuru kiya hai.”

Her eyes narrowed as she absorbed the information, and then widened in surprise, “office? Matlab… Nanaji… kuch hua toh…”

He shook his head as she trailed off, “Nanu theek hai… same condition. Papa Ahmedabad ka business sambhal rahe hai. Mumbai division me manager ke saath maine kaam karna shuru kiya hai peeche do mahino se. Maine socha… Ab tum mere life me ho toh thoda jaldi responsibilities lene lagu toh achcha hoga. Graduation ke baad jitna jaldi achche se kamane lagunga utna hi easy hoga tumhare gharwalo se baat karna shaadi ki…”

As the waiter placed their food on the table, she could only gape in astonishment at her boyfriend. Once they had privacy once more, Sameer continued, “sab kuch seekhne ki koshish toh kar raha hun, lekin thoda mushkil hai… College plus kaam… I am trying my best. Par kabhi kabhi thoda stressful ho jaata hai. Kal bhi aisa hi kuch tha… Subah ek meeting thi aur maine stupid si mistake kar di file me. Hamare manager ne meeting ke baad mujhe daanta yeh kehke ke main irresponsible hun… Aur phir college aate hi…”

She looked stricken as she continued his half-finished sentence, “maine bhi same cheeze boli tumhe assignment ko leke. Oh no… I am so sorry Sameer… Maine realize hi nahi kiya ke tum pareshan ho.”

“It’s okay”, he quickly assured, “tumhari galti nahi hai… Tumhe toh pata bhi nahi tha. Maine socha ke tumhare birthday pe surprise dunga, par kal jo hua uske baad laga ke abhi bata dena sahi hai… mujhe sochna chahiye tha aise stupid comments karne se pehle… gusse me kuch bhi bol deta hun…”

She took a deep breath and smiled, “let’s eat.” The remaining lunch passed amicably with her asking several questions about his work life, and he answered each one of them truthfully and patiently. She was no longer angry on him, just thrilled at the prospect of spending some time with him and of course seeing the promised tattoo. It was 4pm by the time they reached back to her hostel, having spent the afternoon strolling around a shopping complex buying several trinkets and enjoying ice-creams. The sky had turned grey, finally it looked like they would get the first rain of the season.

Naina unlocked the door of her room, and turned, not letting him step inside fully. He paused, confused, “mujhe darwaze se hi bhaga rahi ho? I thought… ab gussa nahi ho…”

She shrugged, “gussa nahi hun… par apna promise pura karo pehle… tattoo dikhao.”

His eyes sparkled, “yahan? Sabke saamne shirt utaru?”

“Utaro nahi kholo”, she instructed, her eyes scanning the corridor to see a couple of girls at the far end… too far to see anything clearly.

He chuckled, “fine…” Keeping his gaze fixed on her face he slipped open the top button of his shirt, and then another… and another… As each button came undone, her gaze slipped from his stormy eyes to the sun kissed skin he was baring for her. God… It was such a tantalizing view… The adam’s apple, the collar bones, the smooth skin beneath his throat and then the beginning of lightly sprinkled hair. Her legs threatened to wobble… This was a first… A first for her, for them… And she so wanted to look at him, to touch him, to feel him… Hadn’t they dated long enough to move a bit beyond kisses? Though kissing Sameer was so much more than she had ever dreamed of, but still, she had to accept that she crazed for more. She wanted to run her hands through his hair, on his head and on his chest… She wanted to lie down next to him on bed, cuddle beside him. The shirt was now half-way open, and he smirked at the way she had her gaze fixed on his chest.

He softly asked, “ready?”

She looked up once in his eyes, and nodded, her hands fisting at her sides lest she forgot the semblance of modesty and reach out to grab him and pull him in her room. He gently pushed aside the fabric of the shirt to bare his left pectoral muscle, and there on it was the tattoo he had promised to let her see… She tilted her head in confusion… It was made of black and blue… The design was rather… odd… She inched closer to inspect, “yeh kaisa design hai?”

He didn’t answer her, and she lifted her hand, using one finger to touch the small design, and then she gasped… She smacked at his chest, punctuating each blow with curses, “stupid… idiot… cheater… liar…”

He grabbed her hands, “aree… kya hua?”

“Jhooth bola tumne”, she snapped, “tumne kaha tha ke tattoo dikhaoge.”

He pretended to be confused, “tattoo toh hai… dekho…”

She shook her head, blowing a bit of hair out of her eyes, “yeh… yeh real nahi hai… chewing gum ke saath milta hai woh hai…”

He smirked, “aah… of course… lekin Naina… Maine toh sirf promise kiya tha ke tattoo dikhaunga… real wala ya chewing gum wala yeh toh nahi kaha tha…”

“Tum… Tum…”, She sputtered in outrage, “main tumhe… ummm…” The rest of her furious words were drowned in the searing kiss her captured her mouth in. She stiffened in surprise, but as his breath mingled with hers, the taste of his lips lingered on hers, she mewled in need. His mouth hovered over her lips, breaking the kiss for a spare moment as he whispered, “I love you.”

Thunder rumbled in the sky, the evening light had been sucked away without any of them realizing, and the gentle sound of the first rains washed over them. There were distant sounds of excited chatter, doors and windows being thrown open… She knew the girls would step out to enjoy and play in the rain, rejoice in the relief from heat… She would have done the same… But right now, in that moment, her love for rain warred with the love for the man cupping her face whispering how much he loved her. And his love won… She grabbed the collars of his half-open shirt and dragged him in, pressing her lips to his for another kiss. He groaned, trying to control himself, mumbling in between kisses, “matron… Naina… Pakde jayenge.”

“Shut up”, she commanded, “matron do din ki chutti pe gai hai aaj dopahar se… Jisko incharge chodke gai hai usko pata nahi tum yahan ho. Ab andar aao…”

He shuddered at the commanding tone, and willing stepped inside, kicking the door close, fumbling with the lock trying to run the bolt in without seeing, while still kissing her. Once done, he wrapped his hands around her, deepened the kiss, flicking her tongue with his. She moaned in approval, her hand trailing down the sharp angle of his jaw, the long line of his throat and finally moving over the previously forbidden territory of his chest. Nipping at his full kissable lower lip, she started to guide him to the bed… After all Naina Agarwal never left a task half-done, and her disciplined perfectionist brain couldn’t comprehend leaving his shirt only half-open…

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