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She met Aasha on Rue de Rivoli, and they walked toward Le Louvre. As they strolled, a detail about Paris jumped out at Anjali. She had never noticed until now that almost every street had a metal stanchion every two meters to prevent cars from parking two wheels on the sidewalk. She saw the same on the next block, and the next and the next, and down every side street they passed.
The French have sunk their patrimoine of steel into the asphalt, Anjali thought. Why not just put up one “no parking” sign per block and tow disobedient cars to the outskirts? The French could build dozens of bridges, nuclear power plants, warships—she hoped they wouldn’t, though they did have a huge weapons industry—with all this metal. Why do they sink it into the streets?
Aasha interrupted her musings. “Let’s see the Mona Lisa one last time,” she said. At the height of tourist season, it would take an hour locked into a press of people to work their way to the front of the ropes that cordoned off la petite peinture. But Anjali went along with it. She wondered what places she would be sure to see before she left Paris. She thought of her bibliothèque with the gilded beams. Yes, there.
In Le Louvre, they walked past Italian masters to get to the room with La Jaconde, as the French called the Mona Lisa. The corridors and rooms were crowded. People bousculer’d them constantly.
Anjali wanted to ask, Are you sure you want to go back and get married, and maybe never travel anywhere again?
What she said was, “How can you be so sure it will work out for you in India?” That wasn’t worded much better, she conceded, but this was what she needed to know.
Aasha flipped her long dark hair and laughed.
“It’s what I’ve always wanted, and Sameer is so nice to me. And his parents and aunties, too.”
“They’ve never lied to you?”
“No! Whyever would they?” Anjali hadn’t told her about her Ravi’s lie. She didn’t want to put a cloud on Aasha’s happiness.
“Is Sameer late to your calls? Does he postpone them?”
“No, never! We’re good together. You’re so negative!”
The next day, Aasha boarded a plane and went home. Wherever home is, thought Anjali. She longed for it, but now that she was in a strange environment, with valuable steel sunk into the streets and gloomy people all in black, home didn’t seem to exist for her anymore.
Saturday morning, she would tell her parents her decision. Whatever that would be.
