Chapter 5: The Return

5

After we left, my legs were jelly all the way to the bus stop.

We walked in silence, the chawl’s racket fading behind us. The night air was thick with the smell of rain and frying pakoras from a roadside stall. My knees almost gave out.

Prakash wiped his brow, still shaken. “Arrey yaar, jaan hi nikal gayi aaj.”

He tried to joke, but his voice trembled.

I said, “Prakash, aaj tujhpe treat banta hai. Pav bhaji khilata hoon, nerves shant ho jayenge.”

He waved me off. “Pet mein gath bandhi hai. Lekin aaj woh baat sach hai.”

I nudged him, “Kaunsi?”

“Knowledge is power.” He clapped my back, a little more solid now. I laughed, the adrenaline fading.

That evening, as city lights flickered on, I went to the club. The front desk girl greeted me, chewing gum, her hair oiled and braided, nails green, a Bollywood song playing from her phone. The lobby smelled of jasmine agarbatti and floor cleaner, a fan whirring overhead.

“Sir, kitne log?”

“Bas main.”

“Kya chahiye—bath, massage, ya karaoke?” She tapped a list, not looking up.

“I’m here to see someone…” I hesitated.

“Oh, you know our ladies?” she lowered her voice.

“25.”

My heart raced as I waited.

I waited in a softly lit private room. After a while, 25 entered. She looked just as before—light makeup, not stunning but pleasant, like a cup of chai on a rainy day.

Her sari was a muted blue, small silver jhumkas glinting. Her eyes lit up, then softened.

She stepped in, about to say something, but her smile froze for a moment, then returned, more genuine. “Arrey, tu?”

Her voice had a warmth I hadn’t heard before. She set down her bag, brushing her pallu. For a second, she looked almost shy.

“It’s me. Not welcome? Last time you said, pehli baar free.” I grinned.

She laughed—a sound like first rain on dry earth—and the awkwardness melted. The faded posters and incense suddenly made the room feel safe.

She smiled, and in that moment, the number 25 stopped being just a number. It was the beginning of something I couldn’t name yet.