Chapter One
KIRAN
For an Indian like Kiran Mathur, spicy-sweet chai might as well have run through her veins, fueling her existence in New York City like the diesel powering her uncle’s auto rickshaw back home.
Her stomach leapt pleasantly as she opened the door to the Upper East Side café where she and her besties—Payal, Akash, and Sonam—met every other week. They had dubbed themselves the Chai Masala Club or, affectionately, the CMC. And just as New York City was her home away from home, the CMC was her family away from family.
Always first to arrive, Kiran settled at their usual table, facing the door. Payal had discovered the tiny café, Chaiwala, six months ago. Of all the places in the city they had hopped around to, this one served the chai that most reminded them of the special vanilla, cardamom, and nut-filled goodness Kiran concocted during the nights when they discussed every heartbreak, triumph, and obstacle in their path to adulthood.
The café was a hole-in-the-wall place with gray hardwood floors, navy walls, and pops of color in the form of artistic photographs of their motherlands by South Asian artists. Tiny lanterns sat in the middle of each table, LED candles glowing inside. Market lights dangled on the walls. It was one part metropolitan hideaway, one part Eastern dream.
At five on the dot, Akash Rao strolled up to the glass door and politely pulled it open for Sonam, arriving from the opposite direction. Sonam offered a grin of thanks as she strode into the café. She raked her fingers through her cropped black hair, the waves bouncing back into place. Akash followed, confident and collected in his black power suit, which highlighted his slim waist and ramrod-straight posture. Their brown eyes scanned the room—Akash’s starting at the left and Sonam’s from the right—before settling on Kiran at the same time.
As they approached the table, Kiran noticed that Sonam walked with even more confidence than Akash did, chin up against the world and upturned eyes that perpetually gave off the impression of determined ferocity. Kiran felt a little envious, filled with pride at her friend’s accomplishment while wishing she could measure up to the same greatness.
Akash casually pulled a chair out for Sonam. It might seem a couple-y gesture, but he had always been gentlemanly, the first to open doors, pull out chairs, cover a tab, or order a round.
In the months when they’d either been holed away in their own apartments or seen each other on rare, socially distanced picnics in Central Park, Kiran had forgotten the tiny details about her friends that filled her with warmth, like a hearth inside her chest. Watching Akash, she was reminded how his height, at five ten, made her feel safe when he was next to her five-four body…and that he spiked his hair in the front with enough gel to spackle a building together. She noticed again, like a long-misplaced fact, how Sonam’s short hair, wavy and bobbed, gave her an edge and amplified her loud personality, which many people made the mistake of underestimating when they encountered the curvy firecracker.
“Kiran’s lost in thought,” Sonam teased.
“I am not!” But her smile gave her away.
“You were frowning,” Akash noted, settling into his chair. “You’re engineering something.”
This was his favorite euphemism for her rigid type-A sensibility. She supposed he was right. Just a little. Kiran handwrote notes in a planner. She was the fixer of off-center pictures hanging on the wall, even when it wasn’t her place. She was level-ten flustered when a presentation was interrupted by a question before its designated Q-and-A time.
“I wasn’t ‘engineering’ anything, yaar. I was zoning out and people watching. It’s what I do when you guys leave me in peace!”
“Like you’d know what to do with any kind of peace,” he replied.
Kiran laughed. “You know me well, Obi-Wan.”
“I think I died and went to heaven.” Akash clutched his heart. “You’ve finally made a Star Wars reference.”
Kiran and Akash slapped a high five as Sonam chuckled.
“Should we order?” asked Sonam.
“Payal isn’t here yet,” Akash and Kiran reminded her in unison.
“We get the same thing every time. It’s not like we have to wait for her approval,” Sonam grumbled.
On cue, the waitress arrived—one Kiran recognized from the group’s countless outings to this café.
“Four chais?” She didn’t bother to note anything on her pad.
All three affirmed their orders, and she went on her way.
Minutes later, the door opened with a gust of wind. Payal followed close behind. Her long hair remained immaculately curled around her heart-shaped face despite the breeze, and her dark eyes, which always made Kiran think of Princess Jasmine, were lined with kohl so pristine, one would think she was born with doe eyes. A pop of red lipstick to her thin lips was the only color in an otherwise neutral outfit—a cream blazer over a black sheath dress, without a trace of lint to be seen.
“Hello there!” she cheerfully chirped in her British accent, then set her bag on the chair Akash pulled out for her, unwrapped the expensive-looking cream scarf from around her neck—Hermès, Kiran noted—and took her seat, crossing her legs underneath the table.
“Are you ever on time?” Sonam asked.
“Well, you know what they say…fashionably late.” Payal dismissed the age-old complaint with a casual wave of her hand. “I had a client.”
Akash thanked the waitress as she placed their drinks in front of them, then turned to his friends. “Okay, Sonam, go first.”
“Can I order some food before we start?” she asked. “I could eat the butt off a skunk right now.”
Akash snorted with laughter while Payal crinkled her delicately pointed nose.
Kiran giggled. “Where do you even come up with expressions like that?”
“Ahh, Miss India,” Sonam said with an overdone stereotypical Indian accent. “If you’d grown up here, perhaps you would have heard it.”
“I never would have said it… That’s gross.” Kiran matched Payal’s disgusted expression.
Sonam smiled, clearly proud she had elicited the reaction she’d hoped for.
As the others stirred their chai, adding enough sugar to put someone into a diabetic coma (Payal) or letting it cool off until it reached—by straight-up Indian standards, anyway—an unacceptable level of lukewarm rather than burning hot (Akash), Kiran gazed at the three of them. She was truly home. No burden. No worry.
“Okay, can I say how nice it is to meet in person again instead of on Zoom?” Kiran said.
“You’ve said it every time we’ve met, but to be fair, seeing all of your normal and unfiltered faces in person is a treat…or maybe the fresh air is getting to me,” Akash said.
“It’s really nice to see the city come alive again,” Sonam said. “I yelled at an asshole who catcalled me on the subway today, and it felt like we were back to normal.”
They laughed.
“And now that we’re all here—” Payal started.
“You mean now that you’re finally here?” Sonam asked.
“Yes.” Payal reached into the Chanel bag next to her feet. “I was cleaning out last season’s clothes to donate to Goodwill, and I discovered my box of college memories—you know, all those photos that are never allowed to see the light of day from our dorm-room days. And look what else I found!”
She produced a few battered sheets of paper, folded into quarters, and put them at the center of the table.
“Is that your diary?” Akash asked.
“Oh, shut it. It’s our lists!” Payal said.
“I don’t think I’ve been with that many people,” Akash said.
She shot him a glare. “We made these lists the summer we graduated, remember? All the things we wanted to do in New York.”
Payal unfolded each sheet of paper, examined the name at the top, and handed it out to the appropriate friend. They spent a few moments in silence examining their lists before looking up.
“Well?” Akash asked. “Did we do everything we expected?”
“Yes.” Sonam turned her list around. On it was written: BUCKET LISTS ARE STUPID.
They all laughed.
“I did them all,” Akash said, a hint of pride in his voice. “Visit the Empire State Building. Road trip across the country. Have a threesome. Eat at Eleven Madison Park—”
“You ate there? Really? It’s, like, $300 a meal,” Sonam interrupted.
“When I got my last promotion at work, I may or may not have splurged.”
“I’ve done almost everything too.” Payal skimmed her paper. “I went to all the major landmarks. I worked at New York Fashion Week twice. I’ve eaten at five restaurants owned by celebrity chefs… Except for falling in love, which, let’s be real, might not exist, I’ve done it all.”
“Gosh, I’ve only done a few of these,” Kiran said, glancing at her list again and feeling a stab of disappointment.
She’d done a few classic New York tourist things when she’d moved to the city, excited to be in a new place, and often with someone from the CMC with her—Empire State Building, a boat ride on the Hudson, a Broadway play. But the other ones…not so much. Ride a horse—not yet. Dance under the stars—not done yet. Do a macaroni and cheese tour. Go to Smorgasburg every summer. Play in an arcade—nope. Find a way to reunite Kirti with Ma and Baba—her heart fell.
“Which ones?” Payal tried to peer at her paper.
“I went to Smorgasburg the first summer we moved here, but haven’t been since.”
“You order mac and cheese everywhere, so you’ve essentially managed a tour,” Akash said, spying that item on her list.
“Kiran, you’re the only one who hasn’t come close to finishing hers. Get on it. We’re turning thirty soon. We should be able to say we lived our twenties to the fullest,” Payal said.
Thirty. The number felt daunting all of a sudden, like Kiran had to speed through all her goals before she crossed some proverbial threshold where she couldn’t anymore.
“I agree,” she said. “Maybe these should be the before-thirty list since it’s been so long since we moved here…and we can add a few things and try to do them all.”
“Okay, let’s do it,” said Sonam.
The other three looked at her in surprise.
“You literally just showed us a list that said lists are stupid,” Akash said.
“Well…things change. It could be fun.”
“What would be the first thing on your new before-thirty lists?” Payal asked.
Sonam leaned back, seeming to consider her answer. Kiran frowned, thinking of her family. Akash spoke first.
“I’d like to fall in love and get married.”
“Really?” Payal asked. “The serial dater wants to settle down?”
“It’s kind of nice to think about coming home to someone and knowing they’re yours to share a life with,” Akash replied.
Payal gave a soft smile. “I’d start a fashion line and have a runway show.”
“I’d start a charity,” Sonam said. “I’d do something that protected women and girls across the world. Maybe even go to India and do reproductive health work there.”
Kiran grinned, knowing Sonam would fulfill her wish someday. It was a matter of when, not if. She thought about her own list—what would she do?
“I’d follow my heart,” she said suddenly. “I’ve done everything expected of me, you know? But I don’t know how to trust myself and just be. I guess I’d do that.”
“There’s time,” Payal said with a conspiratorial wink. “Okay, so everyone bring a new, revised list to the next CMC date, all right? Kiran, you can add a few things to yours or just bring it as is since you still have stuff to do.”
They all nodded or murmured their assent.
“So, speaking of following hearts, guess who did something stupid with the opposite sex?” Akash asked.
“You,” Kiran answered. “That question was an opening for you to tell us.”
The rest laughed.
“I met a girl, actually. But let’s see where it goes.”
“You met a girl, did you?” Payal’s eyes sparkled. “Do we get to meet her?”
“Not yet.”
“Come on, Akash!” Sonam protested. “Quit being a dick and tell us some details so we can judge her.”
“She’s cool. You know the New York dating scene, though. We may find new people in the next couple of days.” He shrugged.
“This is true,” Payal conceded as she added yet another packet of sugar to her chai. “It’s all so fleeting.”
“Well, forever is fleeting nowadays, isn’t it?” Kiran asked. “It’s not like it used to be with our parents meeting and getting married a month after maybe seeing each other once. The entire game has changed.”
“It’s pretty much all over in a swipe,” Akash agreed.
“But it hasn’t actually gotten any easier, has it?” Payal spoke. “I mean, you’d think with all these options to meet people, we’d all be in relationships, but if anything, the choices have made us less decisive and more fearful of commitment.”
“Unless we choose our parents’ route, I guess it has become harder,” Kiran considered.
“But you’ve already decided to go their route, so it’s a moot point for you, isn’t it?” Sonam pointed out.
“I went on a date the other day—friend-of-a-friend situation,” Kiran said, proving Sonam’s point.
“Do tell!” Payal encouraged.
“It tanked. No personality. Believed in a dowry. Had the balls to say that men could sleep around but that they should only marry virgins. You know how it can be.”
Sonam looked outraged, and even her hair seemed to stand on edge.
Payal shook her head, taking a sip of tea. When she put her cup down, there was no ring of red lipstick around the white rim.
“Well, that’s outdated. Sounds like a douche,” Akash said, raising his cup as a toast. “You dodged a bullet.”
“That’s okay. There’s plenty of fish in the sea.” Sonam shrugged.
“You have to kiss plenty of frogs,” Payal said.
“You’d know. You’ve probably made out with most of them,” Kiran retorted.
“Whatever. We’re young. Successful. Awesome. Why not take advantage of it and have some fun?” Payal dismissed all notion of the conservative propriety Kiran had grown up with. “And did you just make a joke?”
“I did.” Kiran flipped her hair over her shoulder. “I thought it was pretty good.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Payal grumbled. “Like I said…we’re young and we should enjoy life.”
None of them asked why Kiran couldn’t have a love marriage. They all knew about her family and their traditional view of how marriage was supposed to be: parents talk, parents introduce their respective boy and girl to each other, boy and girl speak for long enough to cover education, income, values, and children, and then poof! Marriage arranged. We didn’t have chemistry was not a reason that made any sense for turning down a proposition, at least in her community’s eyes.
Falling in love was nothing like a formulaic equation of course. Anyone in the current generation knew that, but Kiran wasn’t about to fight that battle with her parents, who had barely left their village, let alone India, and who had grown up in a strict atmosphere where boys and girls didn’t mingle more than necessary.
But marriage…the word alone prompted gray hairs to pop up on Kiran’s head.
The swirling thoughts must have shown on her face, because Sonam picked up on it immediately.
“Payal is right, Kiran. We’re young. Stop thinking about it,” she said.
“I agree with her!” Kiran protested. “But it’s hard to remember that when my parents are getting older and I get phone calls every other day about how thirty is two years away.”
“Actually, my parents have said the same,” Payal said. “As if thirty is a line you cross, and our eggs will shrivel up and disintegrate at 12:01 a.m. on our thirtieth birthdays.”
Akash laughed. “Benefit of being a guy. I get to milk this I-need-to-settle-down-and-make-money argument for a few years longer.”
“You don’t get to gloat!” Sonam smacked Akash’s arm. “Or I will tell your mom that you mentioned to us that you’re ready for a wife and kids.”
Akash chuckled in response, shaking his head. “Thirty, though. What comes after that?”
“Thirty-one,” Kiran said. “I know you went to a chilled-out American school, but I would hope they taught you to count.”
He shot her a look. “I mean…thirty kind of is a line to cross in life. You’re expected to have your shit together after thirty.”
“Don’t you guys feel like we’re in between milestones?” Sonam asked. “I mean, eighteen was the military, graduating from high school, starting college, cigarettes… Twenty-one was getting plastered. And if thirty is the end, the mark of us having it together…then twenty-five was, like—”
“It was the age we always looked forward to when we were little, so it’s hard to look past that to thirty and beyond,” Kiran finished for her.
Sonam nodded with enthusiasm. Being understood always brought a glow to her eyes.
“Marriage, a house, kids, a car, and being a doctor,” Sonam reminisced.
“One out of five isn’t bad,” Kiran teased.
“Wow, you all were pretty advanced,” Akash said. “At age five, I wanted to live in a tree.”
The entire group burst out laughing.
“I wanted to be rich, live in a city, and wear pretty dresses,” Payal said.
“Achievement unlocked, then?”
“Shut up, Akash.”
“What did you want, Kiran? I mean, now that you’re in between the age that we all thought we’d have everything we dreamed of and the age everyone says is the end of immaturity…what did you think would happen?” Sonam leaned toward her on her elbows.
“Do you know that in the United States, universities have lots of buildings and lots of students? They are some of the best universities in the world,” Kirti said to Kiran as she set her back on the ground after giving her a rib-crushing hug in a way that only big sisters could.
“Isn’t that far away?” Kiran asked. “Ma and Baba said Am-reeka was across an ocean.”
“It is. But sometimes if you want good things, you have to go on a journey to find them.”
“I don’t ever want to leave!” Kiran proclaimed. “I’m never leaving you, or Ma, or Baba!”
Kirti laughed. “You will have to someday when you get married, Chottu. But I hope that you go to school first. You can do anything with your parents’ blessings and love.”
“Even fly across an ocean!”
“Yes, you can even fly across the whole world! But you have to work hard, take care of your parents, and keep your family happy so they will bless you and you succeed.”
“I always want to keep you happy.”
“Good. Then go to college in America someday!” Kirti tickled Kiran’s belly.
“I wanted to leave India and support my parents,” Kiran said now.
The three others smiled.
Payal set her napkin on the table with finality.
“Looks like you’re living your dream.”