Chapter 2

Taking her arms out of her jacket, Nayab placed it on the back of her chair as she sat down on the chair opposite to Ali’s. He was still oblivious of the fact that Nayab had already seated herself, taken out her novel and about to kick Ali’s shin (the only way to catch the bloke’s attention is to aim for his funny bone). As soon as the front of her loafers hit his leg, he knew that Nayab was already there and that she had been waiting for his attention for over five minutes. The thought about Nayab and being at the end of his puzzle suppressed the pain response (which would/should have been a loud shriek) and he was back to his normal sense within a few minutes.

They started off with drinks. Italian Lemon Soda, Limonata, was her usual while he wanted a big bad class of peach iced tea. Despite eating out during happy hour, which tempted everyone to order a Cosmopolitan and get the other, free, the two stuck to their rather ‘soft’ beverages that allowed them to last the entire evening of conversation/revelation and of course a safe drive/subway ride home.

After two rounds of drinks, the hydrochloric acid level in their stomach was high enough to devour large courses that Capocacia served, have space for desserts and to avoid gaining much weight. It was something Nayab stuck by all through high school, university and now work; she would chew gum or drink lots of fluids to get the acid level in her stomach high up and then eat a tonne of food. There would be enough to digest the bulk of food and she wouldn’t gain much weight. Appetite induction was what she called it. It was good though. She needed it. A petite brunette with almost 4% body weight was anything but ‘healthy’ according to her GP. Ali, being the foodie he was and someone with a super high metabolism, could eat as much as he wished and still not gain a pound. So, Fridays were the perfect chance for the two to share everything including their own mini food-fest.

They finally ordered food which didn’t take much thought. They ordered their usual of a pasta and a pizza. They would mix and match it to their fancy and hence avoiding Nayab’s potential outburst on wasting food and leaving it unfinished. Ali, on the other hand, didn’t bother much. It was a leftover, it was to be disposed off and not be used another time. This week’s choice was a classic Margarita pizza along with salmon and Penne cooked in almond sauce drizzled with olive oil.

Food was in process when Nayab began by reviewing her week, which had been a long one. With due dates, presentations and internship reviews, she was quite tied up. The lack of sleep showed on her pale face too. The brunette whose appearance, that usually paralleled perfection, was down today. Dark Circles under her eyes, semi un-plucked eyebrows, her side bangs un-straightened lay flat on either side of her head. She obviously didn’t condition her hair nor did she straighten the frizzy mess commonly knows as her shoulder length brown hair. She needed to sleep but had it not been their regular Friday thing, she would have been curled up in her bed. Rather, she was here with Ali, smiling a little bit, worried, frowning at the state of affaires. Her probationary period at her internship placement was over and she had been through a few reviews. Each and every article that she had submitted had been reviewed to the core and she had been slammed (verbally/metaphorically) many a times. The girl was still working to get a regular slot as a news reporter for The Toronto Star. She wanted to be one of those elite writes in the paper whose articles would be highly awaited by everyone in the households and offices and others. As an anthropology and journalism major, she was a very well read individual yet with time management, she was still a sucker.

In comparison to Ali who was a king at getting things done on time and not stressing too much even in the midst of the biggest of the messes. A ‘laissez-faire’ personality was his identity and he did follow ‘carpe-diem’ in all aspects of life. Women, life, work, school, family, relationships and his car were a reflection of his spontaneous-ness. He was awesome at his job as being a marketer wasn’t only his passion but was also something he was born with. His speaking skills always got him through what would get others to break and fall and his wit was apt always made him stand out in a crowd of young entrepreneurs who were willing to do whatever it took to make it to the top(even if it meant dropping their pants or their morals six-feet under). Nayab was the only one person who was a constant in his life. Somehow despite constant disagreements, they did get along and very well too.

He snapped his finger to make Nayab come out of her daze. She was concentrating so hard on the space between her fork and the spoon in front of her that it amused Ali. He understood her state being under the workload that she was under. He did want to lighten the situation and so;

Ali: Wake up, Einstein! (While pinching Nayab’s cheek)
Nayab: I am awake, don’t fire me!(Petrified)
Ali(laughing): Awesome, the food is here. Eat up, daahlin’. We have plenty of talking to do.
Nayab (smiles): You make my day y’know
Ali: And she makes mine (drooling over Liza walking past the restaurant window while being engaged in some sort of an argument over the phone).

(And she sighs silently)