As the river flows

Chapter 3

It had been two days since Ankit had arrived in Paris, but he could safely say that he, already, was a changed man. A convert. He could never, ever have bread anywhere else ever again! In fact he would go as far as to say that he had never had bread before. What was it about the French breads? So beautifully flaky and sinfully soft. Especially the ‘pain au chocolats’! Even the thought of it was making his mouth water. God! He could write an ode to the baker, proclaiming his undying love for her wrinkly, old hands.

He looked down from the balcony at the bakery on the ground floor of the building opposite the apartment he was living in and wondered whether he should go get some. It would be his second pain au chocolat of the morning. But the temptation was so hard to resist!

Just as he was turning away to go get another, he heard his name being shouted from somewhere within the flat. With a sigh, he heaved away from the railing and made his way towards the kitchen.

Laura (his flat-mate, and one of the other four residents of Pavillon Neuflize OBC) was on the floor, with half of her body under the sink, holding onto what seemed to be a broken pipe fixture. Despite her best efforts however, there was a thin stream of water jetting out in an arc, from between her fingers, and flooding the floor. Ankit looked on in morbid fascination, as the water seeped into the floor mat colouring it a dark red.

“Dude! Less standing, more doing! Come on!” shouted Laura, jerking Ankit out of his stupor. He rushed forward, flailing his hands, unsure about what to do. He was just about to get under the sink with her, when he suddenly remembered the extra pipe fixtures and cranks that were in the hallway cabinet. He ran out of the kitchen, leaving behind a wet and fuming Laura.

He yanked the doors of the hallway cabinet open, and started looking for the tools. Where were they? He had remembered correctly, he was sure. Coats go here, cleaning supplies there, then the tools must be…Yes! He found them! He ran back to the kitchen, with the crank and the fixture clutched tightly in his hands.

Fifteen minutes and a whole wrestling match with the pipes later, Laura and Ankit stood in the middle of the kitchen floor, wet, but satisfied with their handiwork.

“How did this even happen?” asked Ankit.

Laura made a noncommittal sound and shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know. One moment there was a gurgling noise and the next, the pipe broke.”

“It could’ve been worse, I guess,” sighed Ankit.

Laura raised a skeptical brow, and looked around the flooded kitchen. “Your optimism astounds me.”

Ankit smiled at that and with a straight face he looked at her, and asked, in all seriousness, “Do you want a pain au chocolat?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

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Later that day found Ankit and Laura sprawled haphazardly on the floor of the drawing room, having just finished mopping up the kitchen. Their pain au chocolat run had turned into an hour long affair, with neither of them wanting to go back and face the disaster waiting for them in the kitchen. Thus, they had dawdled for as long as they could with a steaming piece of bread in each of their hands, and talked about their lives.

Laura was from Granada in Spain. Had a family of 16, not including the four dogs and three cats that she owned. And was in an on and off relationship with a boy from Madrid for the last six years. And yes, she did indeed love the Alhambra very much, despite having been there a thousand times. The courtyards are beautiful, okay!

And it was between one moment and the next that Ankit and Laura found themselves on the cusp of what would hopefully turn out to be a long and magnificent friendship. Their shared love of all things art only made this moment in time more poignant.

The afternoon was whiled away in gentle banter, getting to know one another and talking about their favourite animes of all time, drinking a five euro wine straight from the bottle. As the sun’s rays became longer against the walls, their sleepy conversations petered out for a moment, and Ankit got up and sat on the windowsill looking out onto the road. As he watched the late afternoon stragglers making their way through the cobbled streets, he could not help but feel a certain sort of joy fill his heart. There was magic in the Parisian air. It was in there in the way one of the boys on the street threw his head back and laughed, while the girl jumped onto another’s back. It was there in the way the man on the balcony opposite his, winked at him as he took another puff of his cigarette. And when Ankit looked away, flustered, it was there in the way Laura lazily hummed to herself, while looking through her phone.

As Ankit sat under the rays of the waning sun, staring aimlessly at the dust motes dancing in the beams of light filtering in through the windows, he thought about all the times back home that he would feel an urgency to do something all the time. How he felt like such a waste of space unless he was constantly hustling, being productive and giving back to the society. It was a difficult space to be in, when you constantly reprimand yourself for taking a breather, for giving yourself a break. And sometimes, just sometimes, he had wished to just leave it all behind and run away. Or maybe, run towards something. Maybe it was peace and tranquility that he was looking for, Ankit wondered idly. Because, if he was, this was the closest he had ever felt to being truly calm.

The European life suited him, decided Ankit, with half a smile. Some might find it absurd and inconvenient, but Ankit appreciated the continent’s zest for life, especially beyond work. How they took it slow. How they did not need others to tell them that they deserved a break. Ah! Julia Roberts had had it right in ‘Eat, Pray, Love’! What was it? “Dolce far niente”, the Italians called it. The sweetness of doing nothing. What a novel thought!

Take the first night he arrived here for example. He had gone out to buy groceries at six in the evening, and to most of the world, that would seem like a perfectly normal time to go on a grocery run, only to find the nearest ‘Carrefour’ closed and sealed, with the owner locking it up, just as he reached the shopping center. When he had returned crestfallen and empty handed, Laura had shrugged nonchalantly and said, “of course, he has a life, does he not?” 

Over the next two days Ankit witnessed something that he could never have imagined happening back home. All the shops and businesses closed down for the day at exactly six in the evening, everyone leaving for their homes, to spend time with their families and friends. Only the pubs and bars would be open. This was a simple yet radical concept to Ankit who had only witnessed people slaving away till the wee hours of the morning to earn a decent living, forgetting to live their lives in the process. Here, as he sat looking up at the sky, Ankit could not help but feel a sense of relief for being given this opportunity to experience life at its fullest. There was no hurry to create, just a gentle reassurance that if he wanted to, he could and would be welcomed with open arms.

Ankit laid his forehead on the slowly cooling pane of glass and slowly let his mind meander through thoughts and desires, till his eyes grew heavy and he quietly drifted off to sleep, for once unburdened by the pressure to create. There was time.

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Ankit slowly opened his eyes, wading through the murky waters of deep slumber, as he felt his shoulders being shaken by a gentle hand. Smacking his parched lips slightly, he turned towards the touch, ignoring the quick jolt of pain that erupted on the left side of his neck, and head.

As his eyes adjusted to the light, he saw Laura crouching beside him with a worried frown marring her pretty face.

“Hey, are you alright? Did you sleep on the floor the entire night?”

“Um,” Ankit looked around. And surely, the sun was high in the sky, the light too white to be anything other than mid-morning. “I guess I must have,” he mumbled through a yawn that he clumsily hid behind his palm, blinking rapidly to get the sleep out of his system. He must have been really tired, to sleep on the hard tiled floor in the living room, instead of the sofa that was barely a feet or two away from him.

“I suppose, I was too tired to haul my drunk ass to the room, after you went to sleep last night. Uh, this morning. God! Last night was a terrible idea! But, I would do it again.” He said with as much cheekiness as he could muster, with his head pounding away like a school marching band.

Laura chuckled. “Yeah, mixing alcohol and dancing, while binge watching Game of Thrones till four in the morning was a poor decision. But, you’re right! I would do it again. Just next time, we’re watching Money Heist. You need to get on that boat, man!”

Laura had been waxing poetic about the series the entire of the previous night, trying to convince Ankit to watch it. But, Ankit had been in a Game of Thrones kind of mood, and had stuck to his choice till she had reluctantly caved and given in.

“Fine, I will! Rio better be as cute as you promised me he is, though” said Ankit waggling a finger at her.

“He is even better!” she proclaimed, swooning dramatically and clutching her heart.  

“Tch! What a drama queen!” He scoffed, and turning away from her, attempted to get comfortable on the uncomfortable floor so that he could squeeze in a couple more hours of sleep. It’s not like he had anywhere to be.

“No, no, no! You’re not going back to sleep.” Laura proclaimed, tugging relentlessly at his hands till he turned around to face her with a groan.

“What? What do you want from me, woman? Let me sleep in peace!”  He protested. But she was a woman on a mission and not to be trifled with.    

“Oh no, you are getting up now, and we are going to go get breakfast from La Felicita on 13th. They have some of the cheapest flat whites in the city, fresh juice and chunks of tear-off brioche. Also, also, they have brick-sized, popcorn topped brownies! Popcorn topped! Can you not appreciate that, you heathen?” she rambled, continuing her heartless attacks on his person.

Okay, that did sound amazing.

“Alright, alright. I’m up!” He sighed, giving in.

“Yes! Get ready. We leave in fifteen minutes!” She ordered, as she got up and left to get ready herself.

Sighing, Ankit stretched out his limbs, trying to get the stiffness out of them and cracked his neck. God! Sleeping on the floor had been a terrible idea.

He hoisted himself from the floor, using the coffee table as support (yes, his limbs felt like jelly right about now) and scratched his belly absent-mindedly as he looked around the room. What a mess! There were bottles of beer and wine strewn haphazardly around the room, interspersed by throw pillows. There was even some charcoal pieces and drawing sheets (with unknowable scribbles on them) under the television, by the potted plants. How did they get here? Did they have a drawing session at some point in the night? Ankit rubbed his eyes blearily, confused.

Deciding to let it go, he finally started to move towards his room, when he heard his phone ringing from somewhere, the sound muffled, as if covered by something. Which of course, was entirely possible. 

He finally found it after digging around frantically for a good minute, catching the call breathlessly on the last ring.

“Hello!” He breathed into the mouthpiece, having fallen on the sofa in his rush. Before he could look down at the caller ID to see who was on the other side, he was interrupted by a very familiar voice.

“Bonjour et bienvenue, Ankit! I hope you are well?”

“Anais! Yes, I am good actually. How are you? Are you back from Seville?”    

“I am very good. Especially now that you are here.” Ankit smiled at Bridel's generous words. “Yes, I just got back. In fact, I was wondering how you’re doing, and when you’re free. We should meet up this week, before the meet and greet event. I believe you’ve already met one of the other residents? What was her name?”

“Yes, Laura.”

“Mmm, yes. Spanish, no?”

“Yeah”

“You’re both getting along?”

“Like a house on fire!” laughed Ankit. “She’s really lovely.”

“I’m glad. Anyway, if you have time tomorrow evening, come by my house. We’ll have dinner. You can bring Laura along as well, if she is free.”

“Okay, sure. I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“See you. A demain.”

Cutting the call, Ankit looked down to his hands. Yes, he was a lucky guy. Smiling, he got up to finally get ready to go get breakfast. He could not wait to have the popcorn topped brownies! What sweet indulgence!