Chapter Eight
KIRAN
Unbeknownst to Nash, Kiran was having a reunion of her own with her friends…but it wasn’t going quite as pleasantly as the one he’d just experienced.
“Stop moving!”
“I can’t help it! You’re taking a hundred years.”
“I need these measurements to be correct.”
“It’s not heart surgery, and I’m hungry.”
Kiran and Akash glanced at each other, half-amused and half-exasperated at the unending argument currently taking place between Sonam and Payal. They were both lying across Payal’s couches at her apartment, waiting for Payal to snag Sonam’s proportions for her latest clothing project.
“Okay, I hate to interrupt this love fest, but are we ordering these pizzas tonight, or am I going to go to the place down the street by myself?” Akash finally asked.
“Pizza…” Sonam groaned.
Payal glared at her before dangling the measuring tape around her neck and turning to them.
“See, this is why I need to have real models who let me get the measurements I need without whining about how hungry they are.”
“To be fair, most models are probably hungrier than we are…” Sonam muttered under her breath.
“Oh, stop bloody complaining,” Payal snapped, her clipped British accent sharpening her words like blades.
“Okay, time out,” Kiran commanded. “Payal, you can get your numbers when Sonam has eaten. Sonam, don’t be mean. Akash, order the pizza. I’ll cue up the movie.”
It was like handling a million preschoolers rather than three adults. The four of them were best friends, but the sibling bickering never stopped. Tonight, Kiran was the mama bear watching over her three unruly cubs.
To celebrate her success giving a presentation at work on the reorganization of neural circuits and the nerve stimulation device her team was working on and to soothe Sonam after she’d had a particularly trying week at the hospital, the CMC had decided to have a movie night with their favorite Hindi movies while drowning their respective victories and sorrows in pizza.
Of course, the second they all got to Payal’s place, the largest of all of their apartments, she wanted to finish up some sample sizes on her side project—a clothing design business she hoped to get off the ground in the next few years. In the meantime, Sonam snapped at everyone like she was a crocodile and they were fish, and Akash had complained of a headache from a tough work day, rummaging in Payal’s cabinets for Tylenol the moment he entered.
“We’re watching Lagaan,” Kiran told them. It was her celebration, so she got to choose. A movie about a small village uprising resulting in a cricket match between the British colonists and untrained Indians was exactly the kind of story she was in the mood for.
“Do we have to?” Sonam whined. “Can’t we watch something more recent like Padmaavat?”
“No,” chorused Payal, Akash, and Kiran, in protest of the violent period drama about a Rajput princess who, along with the women and children in her city, self-immolated to prevent the rape and pillaging of their people after a wartime loss against the invading Islamic dynasties.
Sonam huffed and leaned against the cushions.
“Okay…” Kiran took a deep breath and turned to Sonam. “Before we watch this, you are going to tell us what’s making you upset and unload whatever is burdening you. Once we help you, we are going to cheerfully watch this movie, and you are going to chill out. Deal?”
Payal and Akash exchanged grateful glances that someone had addressed the crankiness.
“I got in trouble at work today,” Sonam mumbled.
“About?”
“This Indian woman came into the hospital today. She fell down the stairs. Her bruises were consistent with a fall. The attending still suspected abuse, and he went through all the protocol for reporting domestic battery.”
“I’m sorry, but what’s wrong with that? Maybe she fell, or he wanted to be thorough to cover his ass,” Payal offered.
“She didn’t speak English, Payal. I think she spoke Bengali. From the small amount I could understand, her husband was a cab driver who brought her in, and he was really concerned. He explained in Hindi that she’d tripped over the end of her sari at their apartment building and fallen down the flight of stairs. He tried to catch her, but he went down with her…and he had the bruises to show for it too, but he didn’t want medical help because he said it didn’t hurt much and he was worried about her.”
Once the floodgates opened, Sonam began to speak faster, her voice increasing in volume and ferocity.
“I tried to tell the attending the story, but he filled out the protocol anyway. You know why? ‘Because abuse happens often in that part of the world.’ That’s it. Because abuse happens in brown countries, obviously a woman actually falling down the stairs can’t be believed.”
The three others made grunts of anger but allowed her to continue.
“Anyway, I told him that he should believe what the patient says, and he told me I was too inexperienced to catch this kind of thing…and I told him I spoke Hindi and understood the culture. And the entire argument escalated until I told him his white savior racist ass didn’t need to push his preconceived notions on an obviously terrified and injured wife.”
Akash groaned. “Sonam, you didn’t.”
“Why not?” Sonam’s eyes filled with angry tears. “It’s not fair that someone else gets to tell women what they’ve experienced and not listen when we talk about what we’ve really gone through. It’s not fair that this poor lady, who was aching and in pain and wanted her loving husband to be there with her, got separated from him and asked about whether he did this to her. No one even understood her properly anyway. Who knows if the translator did a good job?”
“Sonam—”
Kiran’s warning glare stopped Akash from telling Sonam she should have been professional.
“You’re right,” Payal said softly. “It is unfair. Especially when we’ve all met women who have been abused. Her voice wasn’t heard or taken into account before people made a rash assumption based on the color of her skin, her culture, and her situation.”
“What if I’m not cut out to be a doctor? Maybe I should have gone to law school like my dad told me to, or worked with a nonprofit where I get to make a difference. I failed her today. And I got written up for calling someone out.” Sonam’s shoulders hunched like she was trying to take up as little space as possible.
“Whoa.” Kiran spoke now. “You didn’t fail anyone. You are meant to be a doctor. You lost today’s fight, but the fact that you fought at all is precisely why medicine needs you.”
Sonam wiped her nose with her sleeve and sniffled.
“I’m sorry I took your measurements,” Payal said suddenly, and the three others looked at her.
“Really? Right now, you had to say that?” Akash asked.
“I wanted her to stop feeling sad!”
Sonam laughed through her tears. “I’m sorry I was a bitch.”
“You’re always a bitch. It’s okay,” Payal said.
“I should have kept fighting for her.”
“You believed her, and you did fight for her,” Akash said firmly. “You did the right thing. She was heard. And when you get a chance to speak to your supervisors, you’ll make sure they know their attending is an incompetent ass.”
Sonam nodded.
Nash flashed through Kiran’s mind then, talking about how he wanted to provide children a safe haven when they were experiencing difficult times, and it reminded her of Sonam’s quest to give women justice.
She gazed at Sonam now, and exhaustion was overflowing along with her tears. Kiran had heard about residency being a marathon test of endurance and that residents had a high rate of suicides because of the pressure, the tiredness, and the skill required to save lives with no sleep or mental rest. She knew that Sonam would be an excellent doctor and that this was a bump in the road, but she also sympathized that it must feel like a mountain to her friend.
“You know, Sonam, I went to dinner with a psychologist the other day, and he may be able to help you or at least reassure you as you go through these next couple of years. I can connect you if you want.”
Sonam opened her mouth to speak, but Payal beat her to it.
“A doctor? He? Who?”
“Calm down, Gossip Girl. It’s my neighbor. His name is Nash. We had a harmless dinner the other night, and he’s fun to hang out with.”
“But you never hang out with guys!” Payal exclaimed.
“Apparently, everyone has forgotten I have a penis,” Akash mused out loud.
“We choose to ignore it,” Sonam replied to him before turning back to Kiran. “Connect me to him, please—”
“Wait, is this the same guy you texted us about?” Payal interrupted.
Kiran groaned inwardly at her gaffe. Two mentions would prompt plenty of curiosity.
“Yes. We went to dinner, as I said—”
“Are you guys dating?”
“Will you let her finish a sentence?” Akash exclaimed.
“No,” Kiran answered. “On finishing a sentence and on dating.”
“Would you?”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
But that was precisely the wrong question to ask. Kiran had tried to drive home that it was a stretch to associate dating and a friendly dinner, but her friends pounced like an animal on their prey as they erroneously assumed her question was, in fact, a denial of a love affair.
“You would!” Payal gasped.
“I—”
“Get out! You’re dating a white guy!” Sonam exclaimed, her own woes forgotten.
“Okay, stop!” Kiran’s loud voice silenced them all. “I can’t date him. He’s American. You guys know what happened with my sister. I wouldn’t do that to my parents.”
“Do you want to hang out with him again?” Payal asked.
“Of course. He’s really sweet.”
“And if this goes further than being friends…what are you going to do?”
Kiran groaned. “Could we focus on the movie now, please? I’m not thinking about the future.”
“That’s a first,” Akash chimed in.
“Enough.” The sharpness in Kiran’s voice finally quieted their persistent questioning.
“Wait, wait, wait. First, did you guys bring your new lists?” Payal asked.
Surprisingly, they all nodded.
“I feel like we’re all back at Duke and we just got asked if we completed our homework,” Akash said.
“Well, when Payal assigns it…” Sonam shrugged.
Payal looked at them with fond pride. “Let’s hear it.”
Sonam spoke first, the Hermione Granger of their group. “I’d like to survive residency. Open a nonprofit. Write a book. Go to Europe. And fall in love.”
“Good list,” Akash said approvingly. “I want to serve on the board of an organization. Go to one of the national parks in the West—my parents took my sisters when we were at Duke, but I couldn’t go. I’d like to kayak somewhere with clear water. And find a girl crazy enough to want to be with me.”
Payal laughed. “Good luck.”
“Shut up.”
“Kiran? Did you add anything new to your list?” Payal waited, her eyes filled with anticipation.
She gave a soft smile, thinking of Nash and their dinner full of chatter, and read off her list: the arcade, horseback riding, food festivals, the Bronx Zoo, a night under the stars, moments of breathtaking beauty…and then she added, “I want to fall in love,” before anticipating Payal would mention Nash and quickly qualifying, “with the right person.”
“You will, Kiran, I know it. You know I’m going to start my fashion line at some point. I’d love to actually hear my parents tell me they love me. I’d love to have mind-blowing sex for the rest of my life. I’d like to go on a vacation with someone I love—besides you guys or my cousins. I guess that means I have to fall in love too. I’d also like to go to Disney World. I still haven’t been.”
Payal always wore her heart on her sleeve, and even her list showed it.
Kiran noticed the frown Akash was wearing.
“So, ‘fall in love’ was on all of our lists. And none of us have fallen in love yet.” He looked puzzled.
“We’ve fallen in love. It just wasn’t forever,” Payal said.
“Fair point. Maybe there’s something wrong with us,” he said.
“Oh, stop. That patriarchal nonsense is so ridiculous,” Sonam said. “There’s nothing wrong with anyone for finding their partners after twenty-five, whether they’re male, female, or non-binary. This timeline thing is illogical.”
“I’m kidding. But given that we’re doing all right in our lives, it’s interesting that none of us have found what we’re looking for in a partner.”
Kiran gave a small sigh. “For all the bluster, we’ve never done the one thing that actually involves risk.”
The room fell silent, Kiran’s words sinking in.
“It happens when it happens,” Payal said firmly. “We can joke about the pressure—and don’t get me wrong, it’s real—but we’re not all going to find partners at the same time. Some of us may not at all. Maybe I was right in the first place that love doesn’t even exist. Who the hell knows? But we’ll take the risk when we find it worthwhile…and it’s okay if we haven’t or don’t.”
The pizza arrived then, and Kiran started the movie. The legendary Amitabh Bachchan’s deep, signature voice began to narrate the prologue to the story, and Kiran’s mind wandered.
She was an engineer and always thought through the process of her decisions the same way she approached her work. Analytical. Methodical. Meticulous.
But right now, her brain was frenetic.
And she didn’t like it one bit.
Conversations about lists and risks and love swirled through her mind.
The truth was that she thought about Nash and felt drawn to him. The instant familiarity they displayed—“insta-besties,” Payal would have called it since she had so much experience with the concept—was rare for Kiran, and it opened a window in her heart that hadn’t been there before.
Then there was the electricity that sizzled in every inch of her body when he looked at her after viewing the art on the wall.
But that could be anything, couldn’t it? It was so fleeting. Was it even worth thinking about?
Friendships had always served as an energizer for her, a burst of spirit to a worn-out soul. And quite frankly, she had begun to feel as though every day was following the same pattern, a little gray in a phase of life that she’d hoped would be full of color. Nash was a sudden firework on a slow, hot night in New York City, a break in the monotony.
As she watched the movie and concentrated on Gauri getting her palm read by the village lunatic, she wondered if she, like the fictional character in front of her, was setting her hopes on a romance…one that wouldn’t fit the preplanned script of her life.
Her life wasn’t a Bollywood movie full of lofty dreams and dance numbers around trees. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—entertain the thought of Nash as something more than a friend. No matter what, her family’s past would always be her obstacle and a reminder of why she could never step over the line she’d drawn.