Under The Mango Trees

Chapter Eighteen : In Between Puranpoli And Frooti

It had been a twelve-hour tedious journey to Tarkarli, a coastal town in the south of Maharashtra. By the time we arrived, we could have even stumbled into dangerous caves to sleep. So it wasn't a surprise when none of us noticed Lila's beautiful villa in the darkness and entered whichever rooms were allotted to us by the housekeeper, a thin, pallid, old man with his stout, salubrious wife.

"Don't worry, I got us the best room," I heard Lila discreetly whisper in my ear so Raul and Anthony couldn't hear as we all zombie-walked in the dimly lit corridor.

I blinked at the blur of the golden lights and confusingly asked her, "We're sharing a room?"

"It's very big. Oh, Raul, here's your and Anthony's room." She halted, yawning into Raul's shoulder as he snugly pulled her into a hug. Anthony cleared his throat as a hint that the old couple were approaching us. Lila freed herself as smoothly as possible and addressed the old man in Hindi, "Ramu uncle, you have kept the house tip-top."

The old man's smile seemed a novelty on his sallow face as he guided the boys into the room like a shepherd hurriedly huddling his cattle.

His wife was going to show Lila and I our room when Lila said, "Don't worry, I know."

She grabbed the end of the full sleeve of my beige hoodie that I had worn in the air-conditioned car and hurried towards the end of the corridor, making me grumble, "The room won't run away, Lila." My voice was hoarse from the desperate need to sleep and with great exertion, I could keep my sore eyes cracked open. Lila pushed open a dark wooden door and switched on all the golden and white lights of the room and I had to shield my heavy eyes for fear that I would go blind. The hazy spots of lights dancing in front of my eyes vanished into the darkness when I reached over her flippantly and switched off all the lights- except for the golden lamp on the nightstand. "Let's just put away our things and go to sleep."

"You sound mad." She had observed my belligerent clicking of switches in mild fascination (if I judged her correctly). "Your mother- aai was right. You love sleeping."

I had discarded my hoodie and slipped into the thicket of covers, sinking contentedly in the spongy bed which reminded me of clouds. As a kid, I looked up yearningly at the fluffy clouds and wondered what it would feel like to sleep on them. To float away in the limitless sky and to dream of all the dreams that would be called impossible down on earth. The impossible being the things that we hadn't discovered yet and didn't want the dreamers to possible the impossible. New possibilities were naturally accompanied by fear in us. For us, dreams had to be within the realm of existing possibilities. If they were, how could they be dreams?

"Did you sleep already?" I heard Lila's distant, low voice, the words quietly piercing the night air as if she was afraid to disturb the darkness. Lila would have burst out laughing if anyone tried to put an end to her fairytale dreams, in turn, making them feel silly. "Did you see the view?"

"Tomorrow," I promised to the feathery pillow as I flipped on my stomach.

"You're the better view," I heard her corny joke and felt her playfully flick a strand of my hair which made me deeply muffle my head in the pillow. The last thing that I felt was the soft sinking of the bed beside me and a soft hand reaching mine under the covers. My little finger intertwined with hers and sighing, I let myself be carried away by the cloud into the world of dreams- into the world of Lila.

* * *

I tapped woozily on the empty bed and realising that I was searching for a soft hand, I woke up, startled.

"Did you see some ghost in your dream? I have never seen any ghosts!" Lila complained, clad in a wet, navy blue swimsuit which would have modestly reached her knees. But because of the wetness, it had rolled up till her mid-thighs. Her hair was tied into a bun with a careless pink scrunchie, some strands curling near her ears, a mix of frizz and dampness.