No Names Ch. 01

The first thing I noticed was the feeling of being higher than normal. Huge oak doors stood closed in front of me while a seven feet tall wall surrounded the house. Beyond the walls the murmur of a crowd drifted in the air along with the periodic crashing of waves against the shore. Two guards outside the gated compound refused to let people near the house and ignored their continuous questions about the resident inside.

I remained standing wondering how I had gotten there and how I would deal with the mortification of him finding me practically in his house. Why did the guards even let me in? I almost wished that they had kept me away like the rest of the hundreds dying to meet him. Illogical thoughts about the good looks of the silver CLS and black Arnage parked in the driveway on my right kept going through my mind. I had completely lost it to be even thinking about cars when I was less than a breath away from coming face to face with him. What would he do when he found me outside his door? Images of a startled face went through my head and I considered turning around and leaving, but reacted a second too late.

I heard the sound of doors being opened before I saw it. Salim stood just inside the entrance, his arms holding the doors open.

This was the man who single-handedly held the adulation and love of almost every Indian. As one of the biggest actors of the movie industry he was constantly sought after by the well off to the poorest man on the street. Having met him pretty much everyone commented on the immense amount of confidence embedded in a certain amount of aloofness he exhibited, which left a person remembering the experience of meeting him. You could have spoken to a dozen other actors, actors popular and with a huge fan following in their own right, but there was something different about the aura around Salim that separated and distinguished him from the rest.

I looked at him, surprised at the lack of shock his eyes expressed. Smoky grayish brown eyes steadfastly looked at me and I felt like he glimpsed the uncontrolled jumbled emotions rolling in me. He arched an eyebrow at my mute and unmoving form and pushed one door wider.

Amazed at how normal it felt for him to be implying that I should go in, that I would ever be in the same world as him and be within an arms length of touching him, I entered the house. Exactly what did he think I was? Had my obedience just acceded to some kind of assumption he had made about me? An odd sense of melancholy began in me, as if I had just become part of a larger force that would carry me with no assured end, but with a foreboding feeling that I would encounter unhappiness and uncertainty whatever happened.

Salim closed the doors and walked by me to sit on one of the many sofas and chairs spread around the step level floor. I glanced around and decided to sit on one of the chairs across the room. He didn't say anything, only looked at me.

His gaze on me was like being physically touched all over. Like he had slowly brushed his hand starting from the skin of my feet and stopped right under my ear. I could not help becoming aware of the fact that he was realising every bit of what I was feeling and it made me uneasy. It was as if he was conscious of a deep-set connection that he knew would resurface eventually and felt an ethereal sense of familiarity and knowing.

"Are you going to stay?" he asked, the sound of his voice echoing in the silence of the room. To me it sounded more like a command than a question.

"No." I got up and moved away from the chair looking for another door. I needed to leave before something happened, before he actually touched me. And I couldn't find a way out! Without worrying about who else might be in the house, I walked through the living room, through the kitchen and found a back way. Thank god, all I had to do was step out, out in the sun, to feel normal again and call a cab. Just as I placed my hand on the door, he came up behind me.

"Don't," he whispered close enough for me to feel his breath on my hair.

"Please don't go, I want you with me. Just for a couple of hours."

The desperate note in his tone made me reconsider. Would it really be so terrible to stay? To get to know him? What could he possibly do to me that I should be feeling so rushed and shaken?

I turned around and saw him looking at me with a frown on his face. The whole situation was not at all normal and getting to be even stranger. "How can you not want to know who I am?" I demanded.

He regarded me for second wondering what he should tell me or rather how much he could tell me.

"I know who you are, Riya." He said it so matter of factly, as if it was the most natural thing in the world and I was stupid to wonder. " And you will know me."

Was he nuts? I'm sure he saw my skeptical look because his expression softened and I could make out the hint of a smile.

Great, the biggest actor in India was totally crazy. And I had to be the one to find out. I'm sure the magazines would love to get an interview after this experience. Meeting him would definitely remain in my mind, although for very different reasons than his usual aura that seemed to enamor people. The best part was that I had presented him with the perfect opportunity to develop a fixation and concentrate all his weirdness on me.

Moving away from him I tried to calm my breathing. "Okay, so your guards told you what my name was before they let me in. That does not mean you know me. I'm sorry I acted like a stalker and convinced them to let me meet you. I really didn't think it would work and I really am sorry. I'm going to leave and be out of your way in a minute. Please ignore this ever happened." Not waiting for an answer I hurriedly opened the door and half ran-half walked out on to the street. Surprisingly, there were no guards here and he made no move to follow or stop me and I didn't dare glance around to see his reaction.

The strong smoky smell of heavy traffic and the blaring of horns hit me as soon as I stepped on to the road. It was almost a comfort after Salim. I looked around to see if anyone noticed where I had just come from. I breathed a sigh of relief seeing that the paan-wala right in front, the school boy walking his cycle with a child dressed in a uniform of a white shirt and dark blue shorts, perched on the handlebar and the woman squatting next to a pile of vegetables had only given me a momentary glance.

Zigzagging my way through, while ignoring all the commotion, the cars, taxis and autos honking away at each other, hoping someone else would budge an inch, but of course no one ever did, were causing, I got into an empty rickshaw and told the driver to go to Juhu. An hour later the auto turned into my colony and stopped in front of my house.

"How much, bhaiya?"

"One hundred twenty five rupees," the driver replied after a brief glance at the meter on the side of the auto.

Not bothering to check it myself I paid him and stepped out of the auto. My opening of the gate was accompanied by the noisy re-starting of the rickshaw that went a bit further, turned around and passed me on its way.

I wondered if my family would notice how different I felt, whether my emotions were plainly displayed all over my face. Running a hand through my hair and letting out a deep breath I rang the bell, hoping that my grandfather would open the door, as he was usually distracted enough with other things to not notice anything out of the ordinary.

The sound of the lock turning was accompanied by the noise of the TV.

"Nani?" My grandmother, holding a tray with vegetables, stepped aside to let me in. "Where is everyone?"

Making her way back to the sofa in front of the TV, she resumed cutting the potatoes. "Your parents are upstairs and Arti is with Shivahlita."

I moved towards the hall leading to the kitchen and bedrooms. "What are you making? Potatoes for tonight?"

"Hmmm," she replied without looking at me. "There are people coming over for dinner."

"I'll come down and help in a bit," I told her as I went up the stairs. The light falling on the steps through the little designs in the wall lit the way, but also made the area seem old and dusky. I always got the impression that I was walking through a stairway in the 1950's and would arrive into a party that makes one feel pleasantly slumberous with whiskey everywhere and old Hindi songs playing in the background. It was a short-lived feeling however, with the rest of the house, especially the apartment upstairs, being as far from antique and warm as possible.

Voices drifted over as mom and dad sat and talked to my aunt on the terrace. Mom glanced over as I tried to slip past.

"Riya, where have you been?" It was said without much concern, but three faces now looked at me expectedly.

I tried to act as nonchalant as possible and remarked on the bad traffic on the way back from a friend's house in Worli. That got them talking about the unending need for improvement of the Indian administrative system and I slipped away.

My sister Arti and my cousin were nowhere to be found. Hoping that no one would come looking for me, I collapsed on the bed in Shivahlita's room and let my thoughts wander back to him.