Mallika: The icing and the cake
1974-1975
I overheard them when I was seventeen. Arnav and Vineet were hanging out as usual on Randhir’s terrace, which was right next to my upstairs bedroom window, smoking pot and talking. I was lying in bed and thoroughly enjoying the conversation that was floating down into my room. Arnav was laughing about how he went to Chandni Chowk and got himself a tiger tattoo on his arm and his father hit the roof. Then Vineet began trashing Indian cars – the staid Ambassador, the oomph-less Fiat, and the unprepossessing Standard Herald – and began fantasizing about foreign cars.
I went back to my book.
Ten minutes later, my ears pricked up. Vineet was laughing. ‘I tell you – every DU girl is madly in love with Randhir!’
‘Yeah, but for Randhir it’s only Ma
