Chapter 6: Dinner with the Queens

After work, people trickled back one by one.

Their voices filled the flat with energy—someone humming a film song, someone complaining about traffic, another cursing the boss. Priya just greeted everyone quietly and didn’t mention that a man had moved in.

I realised she was the silent type, someone who let others take charge.

"Hey, who put up this curtain?"

Before the words were finished, a girl walked in—wearing next to nothing.

How little? Imagine the girls’ hostels in Mumbai. If you’ve never been to Mumbai, never gone to college, never seen a girls’ hostel, you’ve at least been to Goa and seen a bikini, right?

But trust me, this was something else—shorts that barely counted as shorts, and a spaghetti strap top that would make even the bindaas girls from my hometown blush.

"Whoa."

I quickly turned my head, muttered "Sorry, sorry," and mentally started chanting the Hanuman Chalisa to distract myself.

Suddenly, it felt like I’d walked into a forbidden temple by mistake. My heart hammered in my chest.

"Arre baap re!" The girl screamed until her voice cracked.

A flurry of footsteps came running over. Two seconds of silence, then another round of "Arre baap re!"

Comrades, have you ever seen a group of squirrels? That’s exactly how I felt—surrounded by shrieking squirrels.

The corridor echoed with their voices, some high-pitched, some grumbling. A true Mumbai monsoon chorus.

I started to wonder: by moving into a house full of beauties, was I not just making trouble for myself, but also for them?

In the summer heat—almost thirty-five degrees—they could have been lounging in light clothes, enjoying the ceiling fan. Now, with a man in the house, they had to dress more conservatively.

The guilt pricked me—here I was, disrupting their comfort. For a minute, I wished I could become invisible.

But the agent hadn’t lied—the people here were pretty nice. After finding out I was the new flatmate, no one showed any real hostility.

The girl who first screamed even apologised, adjusting her dupatta with a sheepish grin. “Sorry, bhaiya, we didn’t know!”

"A new flatmate? Let’s have dinner together tonight!"

The girl who spoke wore light makeup, shorts and a tank top, her long brown legs ending in small, delicate feet in blue slippers—very cute.

I’m not being a pervert—I really could only look down at my feet. I was just a young man in my twenties, and this was my first time being so close to so many women.

I felt like I was sitting for a viva exam and had forgotten all the answers. My palms sweated. My ears turned red.

The closest I’d ever been to a woman before was when I was six and a nurse gave me an injection in the bum.

That memory flashed in my mind, and I almost laughed aloud. I had no idea how to act, or where to look.

"Oh, this little brother is shy."

Another voice chimed in, bubbly and teasing. I couldn’t tell who it was.

The laughter around the table was light but not cruel—almost like elder sisters teasing a younger brother.

"Kya yaar, Swiggy se order karein ya ghar ka jugaad?"

"I want cold coffee!"

"I still have half a watermelon in my room."

"Cold coffee toh aaj banegi!"

"I’ll get a bottle of Sula wine."

"I have beer."

Someone even offered to make nimbu paani for those who didn’t want alcohol. I realised, with a jolt, this was the most lively dinner invite I’d ever got.

...

By the time the blush faded from my face, the didis had set the table and were waiting for me.

Plates clattered, jokes flew across the table, and someone turned on an old Lata song in the background. “Chalo, shuru karo!”

"Come on, why so shy?"

As we ate, the girls started teasing me: "Bartan dhoge ya bas padhai karoge?" I grinned and promised, "I’ll even learn to make chai!"

At that moment, only one thought echoed in my mind: I’m doomed.

Even Arjun was trapped for so long by the Kauravas—how could I possibly survive?

I pictured Krishna winking at me from a cloud, “Yeh toh bas shuruaat hai, mere dost.” As laughter echoed in the flat, I realized—this was just the first question in a very long viva.