Mrin didn’t like going to clubs.
They were too dark, too loud. And she never nearly knew enough people to feel
at home. The few times she went there, she would sit in a corner and nurse her
drink through the night. She didn’t mind going to movies and dinners and even parties
at friend’s houses. But clubs she just didn’t like.
But yet that night she found
herself at one of the most happening clubs in the city. She wasn’t with her
friends. They had given up on her ever coming with them and stopped asking,
knowing she would say no. She was with one of the few people she could never
say no to. She could never say no to her step-sister. So when Meera came in one
evening and asked her to get ready, she wordlessly got up to do so, not even
asking where they were to go. As she walked out of the hall towards her room to
change, Meera’s voice floated towards her. “Wear something glittering,” she
said, “We are going to the new club that has opened downtown.”
An hour later they were zooming
down the road in Meera’s bimmer. Part of that hour was some of the most antagonizing
minutes Mrin has ever felt as she stood in front of her closet and pulled down
outfit after outfit that she thought could be worn to a club. But yet nothing
seemed to be appropriate. They were either too plain or too glitzy or too ill
fitting. And she didn’t want to walk into the most happening address in town
behind Meera looking anything but presentable. With anyone else, it wouldn’t
have mattered. She would have slunk in, if at all, and no one would have
noticed. But with Meera it was different. She knew the moment Meera walked
through that door, every eye in the room would turn to look at her, however
dark the interiors. And she did not want to embarrass Meera. So after 15
minutes of reaching no conclusion, she looked up to see Meera at the door
smiling her laconic, amused smile. Meera crossed the room to sit next to her on
her bed and pulled out a metallic dress. And after an hour, they pulled away
from the house in Meera’s new car. Meera didn’t mention but Mrin knew it was a
gift to Meera from her husband. She had overheard a conversation at home. But
just sitting in the luxurious interiors improved Mrin’s confidence
significantly.
The new club was everything that
Mrin had thought it would be - large, grand, loud and scary. Once inside they
took a corner seat Meera had booked in advance and ordered themselves drinks.
And then she pulled Mrin onto the dance floor. A lot of people on the dance
floor seemed to know Meera from previous meetings and it wasn’t long before
they were all dancing together. But after about an hour she looked around to
find Meera gone. Panic stricken, she surveyed the dance floor, their table, the
other tables and finally the bar. Relief flooded back in. Meera was standing
there talking to a man whose features she couldn’t make out in the dark. All
Mrin could figure out was that she didn’t know him. But she didn’t know most of
Meera’s friends. That’s when she met Vidyut. And soon forgot about Meera.
As she tried to see Meera, she
felt a hand on her shoulder. Whipping around, she saw a guy stand in front of
her, tapping her shoulder. “I think you dropped these,” he had to lean in close
to be heard above the music. He held out a single dangler which must
have dropped off from Mrin’s ears as she danced. Her hand shot up to feel her
ears. “Thank you,” she held her hand out. Smiling slightly, he leaned across
and with deft fingers slipped the earring back into her bare ear. “I am Vidyut,”
he whispered into her ears. “Mrinalini,” she offered him her outstretched hand.
With his lopsided grin, he took her hand. “Dance?” She could make out the deep
and mesmerizing eyes even in the dark. Smiling slightly, she shrugged her
shoulder to mean a yes. He held onto her hand and led her back onto the floor.
Mrin didn’t realize how long they
danced together. Sometimes they danced forming big groups with people around
her who she didn’t know. Other times other men asked her to dance with them.
But mostly it was Vidyut and her, swaying to the music. She actually felt
irritated when she felt a tap on her shoulders, breaking her trance. She didn’t
want to be disturbed, was afraid she would find out it was a dream if disturbed.
“We need to go home,” Meera whispered into her ears. Mrin wanted to stay
longer, almost asked her step sister if she can come back later. But Meera’s disturbed
eyes silenced her. Quietly she turned around to say bye to Vidyut but in that
split second he seemed to have melted into the crowd. Mrin followed Meera to
the door of the club. She turned one last time to see if she could spot Vidyut
on the dance floor. For a second she thought she caught a sight of his curly
head swaying jauntily with the music but it was gone before she could be sure.
Dejected at not being able to say bye, she walked out behind Meera.
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