5.2 The Backdrop

A month later, their purchasing officer, Hassan Zahir, took him to Ice Ge – a popular pub in town with a façade finished of painted rocks and a series of arches. This place was crowded. A music band called Quicksand played on the stage and party-goers danced on the floor. Muaz and Hassan joined in the airconditioned hall.

Someone grabbed his arm and he turned to look at Nisha in the crowd. “Good to see you! You have grown tall! Come, I have a table,” she drew them to a corner.

“Well, Nish! I thought I’d never see you,” uttered Muaz, “What’s going on?”

“Hush!” she gesticulated, “I’m on a date with the club owner. My ex does not know.”

“I heard you got burnt…”

“Shh! Don’t mention,” she shushed him at once, “What are you doing these days?”

“I am working at Club 33.”

“At the resort?”

“No, at Malé Office. This is Hassan.”

“How do you do?”

“Very well,” said Hassan.

“What would you like to drink? A soda?”

Drinks got served. Then the band began to play Paloma Blanca – one of the hits heard constantly on the radio. She offered, “Let’s dance!”

Hassan observed this mother in a red mini frock and red shoes spin around on the dancing floor and she was enjoying it. Muaz wearing white bell-bottoms and in flip-flops was not too fluent on the floor.

Afterwards, Hassan asked, “How did you come to know her?”

“On a trip to Thora,” replied Muaz.

“She said she is divorced!”

“I just heard.”

“Where is she from?”

“Naraka Velidu.”

Three days later, Hassan Zahir picked a call from Nisha looking for Muaz. “He’s gone out,” he responded, “Say! Why are you looking for him?”

“I’m bored,” replied Nisha candidly.

“What will your husband say?”

“We are divorced.”

“Do you have kids?”

“Yes, I have two kids. My daughter is nine years old and my boy is seven.”

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-nine.”

They had a very frank conversation. She passed her number to call back when Muaz returned. Hassan did not pass the telephone number but he told him that she called. Hassan found her address before Muaz and knew she was staying at her ex-husband’s place.

A day later he got that call while Hassan was out. “Can you take me to the resort?” she demanded.

“I’m afraid,” returned Muaz, “I am not a senior. I cannot take anyone to the resort.”

“How about Hassan? He’s a nice guy.”

“Oh yes, he’s a senior. I can ask him.”

“I haven’t been to a resort for a while,” expressed Nisha, “I’m so very bored. I want to have a sip.”

“You mean a drink?”

“Yes,” she sighed, “Can you get it?”

“I can,” he replied, “I will take a bottle to your…”

“No, no, no, I cannot have it here.”

“Where do you want me to take it?”

“Your place.”

He frowned, “I can’t. I’m extremely careful not to leave a whiff around at home. I think my mom already suspects.”

She suggested, “Can’t you fix a guestroom?”

“Oh yes, that’s a good idea. I can fix it.”

“Make it Saturday then. I will get tickets for the Saturday Night Show.”

“Done.”

“Come and pick me at five.”

“Where?”

“My place, Usvaru.”

“Usvaru! Around the other corner?”

“Yes, indeed. I know your mom who wears a sari. We know personally. We are neighbours.”