The Monstrosity

Seema buckled the seatbelt, connected her phone to the music player and scrolled to find her favorite song, pressed play, hit the shuffle button and placed the phone in the gap between the two front seats. Her preferred pair of shades sat atop her head, her saphire tinted fingernails tapping the steering wheel while she waited for the door to her private garage to finish its long ascent. Loud rock music blasted the interiors of the car as the smell of shiny, new leather permeated every pore of the air inside. 

The air conditioner was turned on full blast, Seema despising ever feeling even remotely warm. Her high heeled boots tapped to the beat of the music, while she sang loudly, albeit tunelessly, to accompany the rather talented vocals of the singer. She seamlessly maneuvered the car out of the garage, easing into moving traffic with the grace of a panther. The music continued to play, switching from one song about heartbreak to the next. Seema smiled, chuckled at the lyrics and dived into the second rendition.

The other cars on the street gave her a wide berth.

“You’re buying this monstrosity?”, her mother had asked her, while walking large circles around the brand-new flashy gold SUV.

Seema had chuckled, hugged her mother, patted the side of her car affectionately, “You know I can’t drive a sedan anymore,” she reminded her mother.

Her mother had frowned, “why?”

Seema had pondered for a bit, tilting her head to the left, shrugged, “I just can’t. Things are different, I am different.”

And that was that. Monstrosity or not, this was her; loud, flashy, larger than life and always, without fail, making a spectacle.

Pulling up to a red light, Seema rolled down her window to buy the newspaper from a vendor, making quick work of handing over exact change. As the light turned, Seema and the monstrosity glided ahead.

She spotted him from enough distance for scenes from their time together to leisurely appear before her eyes, each moment a vivid picture. She could see them, from those moments in time, happy together, touching in easy affection and laughing together about something silly. Staying up late at night, whispering nonsense to each other. Sitting on a park bench together, holding hands, kissing in a lazy meeting of lips and restless entanglement of legs.

She spotted him from enough distance to decide that she was going to stop the car next to him and roll down the passenger side window. He stood tall, proud, in a crisp white shirt with shiny chrome buttons and a pair of brown trousers ironed so neatly that the middle seam seemed to have taken on a life of its own. He had on his left hand his favorite watch, silver, chronograph, big name and inscribed with the name of his mother on the inside. She remembered him confessing the tale, speaking softly into her hair, as he usually spoke all his secrets to her, almost too afraid to look into her eyes while speaking of important moments of his life. On his feet he wore polished shoes, his yellow socks a striking contrast against the shiny leather. On his face he wore an expression of impatience, his unibrow bunched together in annoyance, his hands running through his stubble, scratching absently.

She spotted him from enough distance to decide that when she rolled down the window, she was going to be pleasant, polite but distant. She was going to inquire about his well-being, offer any help she could and she’d be on her way.

But as their eyes met, the window slowly rolling down to eliminate the barrier that separated them, to Seema it seemed like time took on a different meaning. Each microsecond that it took for that window to roll down felt like a lifetime.

“Seema,” he whispered, shock quickly replacing the annoyance on his face.

“Varun,” she said, hoarsely, cleared her throat, “do you need any help?”

He looked around him for a moment, perhaps taking some time to figure out how to respond. A silly part of her imagined he was looking to find the courage to face her on the ground. She dismissed the thought with a small, internal, bitter smile.

“Could you drop me to the office? I seem to be having transport issues today,” he finally said, raising his head to meet her eyes again. “Its on your way,” he added, as if he needed to remind her where his office was located.

She took a brief moment to collect her bearings. Could she stand to be in his presence, for however short a duration, without losing her mind? He had been her drug, forcing her to come back for hit after hit, losing herself in the process. It had taken a lot for her to break the habit. Did she want to be so close to temptation again?

The car behind her aggressively honked its horn, breaking her reverie.

“Seema?” Varun said hesitantly, adding quickly when she turned to look at him, “I would understand if you’re not comfortable being in a closed space with me.”

That seemed to decide it. Seema’s spine stiffened, her pride kicking her into action. “Don’t be silly. Sure, hop in. I’ll drop you to your office.”

Varun seemed to sigh in visible relief and Seema felt her bitter smile take shape on her face.

As he got in and strapped on the seat-belt, his familiar cologne invaded Seema’s senses, bringing with it the ghosts of evenings past, when she had buried her head in his chest and had simply taken big, gulping breaths of his essence. Today, she took shallow breaths to keep her sanity in check.

Clicking on her indicator, she eased back into traffic, calling herself a hundred names in her head for this harebrained idea. I mean UBERs existed!

He cleared his throat, “how have you been?”

She turned to look at him for a second, suddenly amused by his clearly uncomfortable body language. “I’ve been good,” she smirked, switching her attention back to the road.

“That’s good,” he nodded, smiling nervously, “I saw your pictures from London on instagram,” he continued.

Seema shook her head, gripping the steering wheel tightly for a second, before loosening her grip. “I was in London for my birthday with my friends.” She didn’t add that she had spent hours looking at her blank phone, willing it to light up and flash his name across the screen, only to be disappointed every time somebody else called.

Varun nodded, satisfied with the explanation. “How has work been?”

“I got that promotion,” Seema responded.

“That’s great news. Congratulations,” he exclaimed.

Seema smiled her first genuine smile. “Thanks.”

“You should be proud of yourself,” he added.

“I am,” she said, looking at him for a brief second before turning back to the road. “I worked hard for it.”

Varun nodded. A comfortable silence fell, as Varun looked into his phone, scrolling through his emails. He locked the screen a moment later, placing it in his pocket, before fidgeting with his seat-belt. He turned to study her, moved in his seat so he was partially facing her and continued his intense scrutiny.

“What?” Seema asked, having noticed his antics from the corner of her eyes.

“How is everything else?”

“What everything else?”

“Are you dating someone? Let me tell you, you won’t find anyone like me, I’m a rare one,” he smirked.

Seema burst out laughing, the hilarity of the statement catching her unawares. As the giggles subsided, she rolled her eyes, “Don’t want anyone like you, ever! One of you was enough to last me a lifetime.”

Varun frowned, the smile wiping from his face in tiny increments. “What do you mean?”

“I mean you disappeared on me, after we spent all that time getting to know each other, really get to know each other, you just upped and left. No call, no message. One day you were there and the next day you were gone,” Seema shrugged.

He sighed, a long sigh, shaking his head as if in disappointment at a small child, “I had that big deal I was working on with the Scotland party. It needed all my focus and attention. Plus, I had just started working out and it was getting so difficult to manage my schedule." 

Seema looked at him again out of the corner of her eyes. “Uh-huh.”

“Seriously. Look, I didn’t mean to hurt you or anything, I just got really busy with life and stuff and just, I couldn’t give any time to anyone else, you know? I had to be selfish.”

“Sure,” Seema replied, nodding her head.

“I told you this,” he accused, agitation tinting his words.  

Seema shrugged. “You said you were going to get busy and then vanished off the face of the earth.” And Seema had never been a stalker and she wasn’t going to start with a boy hardly worth the trouble. “It doesn’t matter now.”

 “So, are you seeing someone right now? Because if you aren’t …..” he let his words trail off.

Seema stopped the car, turned to study the man who she had spent hours talking to, thinking about, sending silly messages and funny memes to and suddenly had a moment of blinding clarity.

“No, I’m not seeing anyone,” she muttered. For a moment his eye lit up, he sat up straighter, opened his mouth to say something, but she continued, “least of all you. Ever again. I’m too busy being awesome and I have to be selfish to continue on that path. I know you understand.” She pointed to the tall tower, “Your office is here. I really hope you continue to reach all the heights in your career and I hope you get everything you ever wanted. My best wishes are with you Varun.”

As he exited the car, she pulled her favorite perfume from her bag, liberally spraying it through the interior of the car. With one final look at the retreating form of her one-time lover, she pulled her shades on her eyes, put the car into gear and continued to drive on.

After all, she had other shit to deal with and the monstrosity was not going to drive itself.