Part 4 of In the Shadow of the Sphinx I wondered if he would think of my easy acceptance of his offer and construe that I was interested in him, I decided to give an excuse and opt out. Then I realized I did not know his room number and rather than going through the reception and telling him that I could not accept his invitation, I decided to go along because some how I knew he would make me feel wrong about my presumption that he was interested in me! So deciding to behave like a sophisticated woman who is comfortable going out with a man she barely knew I got down to getting ready. I quickly finished with my bath and spent some feverish minutes contemplating the most difficult task we women face, deciding what to wear! I settled on a midnight blue silk sheath dress, which I had added at the last minute and was now glad that I had done so. Having bought no suitable jewelry I decided to wear the neck collar I had bought at the museum. Standing in front of the mirror I was happy I did so, because it looked fabulous and I felt like a queen! With quick deft strokes I applied a light makeup and dabbed my favorite Paloma Picasso perfume. I realized that it was already quarter to nine and quickly slipping on my strappy-heeled sandals and picking my Prada evening bag, I was ready to face Samarthya Singh on equal terms as a cool sophisticate. Coming down the lift, I hurriedly gave a lookover in the elevator mirror, I was again assailed by feelings of doubt. Was I doing the right thing going out on a dinner date with almost a stranger? Stepping out of the elevator and feeling a little unsettled, I looked around the hotel lobby for Samarthya. “ I am impressed, a woman who is on time! I thought I would have to cool my heels waiting for you.” Came the laconic drawl from somewhere behind me. I turned around to see Samarthya wearing a well-tailored black suit, teemed with a black silk shirt open at the neck. For a few moments I was speechless, he was looking amazingly handsome, his salt and pepper hair curling around the neck of his black shirt giving him a rakish air. I could almost hear my heart pounding away and felt a rush of blood suffuse my face. Oh god, I hope He could not see me blushing like some simpleton out on her first date. Gathering my wits, I acidly retorted that this was just a simple dinner outing indirectly implying that it did not merit any special efforts on my part. “Your exotic neck piece belies your answer. You are looking good.” With one swift retort he contradicted and complimented me leaving me annoyed and at the same time smug with womanly vanity. S was self driving a black Audi and helped me to the passenger seat and I was secretly impressed with his chivalrous courtesy which many a man in our modern times seem to overlook. S told me that the Cairo Jazz Club was a popular nightspot for the rich Egyptians and expats and the key attraction was the stage, which saw local and international artists entertain the crowds with musical performances. Having a very eclectic taste in music, I started looking forward to my night out and was hoping to hear some local bands play on the stage. The atmosphere in the car was for some reason very companionable. Both of us comfortably lost in our thoughts and I was happy letting the magic of nighttime Cairo grip me. My eyes were eagerly soaking in the sights and also surreptitiously watching my companion and wondering about this other side of his personality. He had appeared downright rude from the very first moment I had set sights on him but at the same time I had to grudgingly admit that he had helped me in all my predicaments. S turned at that very moment when I was intently watching him and with a small laugh asked if he had passed the test! I seemed to be making a habit of blushing which was so silly considering I was a mature woman in her forties and was glad of the darkness in the car. S realizing my embarrassment diverted the topic and started telling me that we were crossing the Nile on the 15 May Bridge and would be at the club in Darb Al Agoza in a short while. At that moment I grudgingly acknowledged in my mind that he was a gentleman and I was glad that I had given in to my impulsive affirmative to S. The Jazz club was an amazing experience. The predominantly orangish brown walls and the ceiling lit with colored glass lights gave the club a very exotic vibrant look. The crowd was multicultural and it was quite a change to see the local Egyptian women in a different avatar from what one would see on the streets. I was fortunate because it happened to be the day when one of Cairo’s famous live bands “Wust El Balad” was playing. The dim lights and the thumping music from the speakers had the crowd swaying to the music, which was a blend of traditional Arab and western music. My love for music and the infectious beat could not keep me away from the dance floor. It was another matter that I was blessed with two left feet but what the hell, I was so caught up in that electric atmosphere that I asked S to come and join me on the floor as if I had known him for ever and it was the most natural thing to do! S laughed and joined me, professing that he could not dance to save his skin unless off course he had downed some vodka to give him the Dutch courage. I waived his excuse off saying that we sailed in the same boat. The next hour had us shuffling and grinding away on the crowded dance floor. I don’t know what dance moves we were doing! But I was surely enjoying myself immensely. After a long time I had let myself go and that too with a person I hardly knew. Sometimes I think it is the easiest to do that, of letting your defenses down with a stranger because he is not going to be judging you and even if he does, would it matter? S finally pleaded exhaustion and I laughingly let him pull me away to the dinner table. The time had passed so quickly and I realized it was close to midnight. We ordered a bottle of Egypt’s most richest and elegant wine Chateau des Reves made from a variety of grapes imported from Lebanon. Dinner was an exotic affair with Samarthya ordering a stuffed chicken breast with Mozzarella and Pesto and I settled for a chicken Messakhan a half chicken laid over roasted pita bread served with garlic yoghurt. The food was delicious and the next half hour or more passed in a companionable comfort with both of us enjoying the meal. I looked up at one instance and saw S watching me with an intent look that was disconcerting and I quickly turned away pretending to watch the people on the dance floor. I did not even to want to analyze it let alone question him. It was almost two in the night by the time we left. The wine, food and the dancing all coupled together, made me pleasantly drowsy and it was an effort to keep myself awake during the ride back to the hotel. In the hotel S had his right arm around my shoulders; it was not as if I was drunk, more like sleep walking! And asked me my room number and escorted me to it. At the door I was fumbling for the key card from my evening bag, when S took it from me and retrieved the card and swiped open the door. I turned to thank him for the lovely evening almost tripping on my heels and S reached out and steadied me. For a few seconds time stood still and breaking out of the tense reverie I quickly thanked him for the wonderful evening. All the easy camaraderie of the earlier evening at the club seemed to have gone somewhere and the present seemed so fraught with an unsaid tension. S smiled and after bidding me a good night left me standing at my room door. Why did my words sound so blank and phony to me? Did they to S too!
Posted on: Sun, 05 Oct 2014 08:01:28 +0000