Betrayed

by Kritika Sharma

  “Have you forgotten he tried to rape you?” Shiva demanded once Kunal had left. We had bunked coaching, and I was not happy about it.

  “He did it due to misery and heightened emotions, he was dying,” I tried explaining.

  “He was lying,” Sarv spoke; his soft, depressed tone made us take a deep look at him.

  “What happened to you now?” Shiva asked, irritated.

  “I lost my uncle due to heart attack. He too had a surgery, but he didn’t live long after that,” he finished with a heavy tone. I felt sorry for him; his tone said he loved his uncle.

  “I am sorry, Sarv, but Kunal is fine, he is healthy,” I started, after a few moments of awkward pause.

  “That’s it; he is way too fine for someone who had a heart surgery and almost died.” He gritted his teeth.

  “What do you mean?” Shiva enquired.

  “Didn’t you notice his abs and arms? They are highly toned, as if he has been working out. And not to mention he was riding a bike; a heart patient is not allowed that, especially not days after the surgery.” His words came crashing down on me. Yes, he did look much fitter than before; how come I hadn’t seen that myself? And maybe Sarv was right. How come he was riding a bike by himself?

  Back home, I decided to enquire for myself. I waited for my father to come back that night, and much to his surprise I asked him a simple question, “If I had a heart surgery, could I ride a motorcycle?”

  “What?” He was looking at me as if I had completely lost my mind! Maybe I had, but I needed an answer.

  “Please, Papa, tell me,” I insisted.

  “If you want to ride a motorcycle, you can ride mine, why do you want a heart surgery to do that?” he questioned me, suspiciously.

  “Oh, I meant is it safe to ride it post-surgery? My friend wants to know in school, her – err – brother is about to get one,” I lied quickly, and though he didn’t buy my lie, his expressions relaxed.

  “No, you cannot even ride a cycle post heart surgery. For that matter, if you undergo any major surgery, heart or whatever, you are not even allowed to walk on your own for some time. Heart surgery is major, kiddo, it takes months to recover from it and that too if you are lucky!” His words filled my eyes with tears. So Kunal had lied to me.

  That night I didn’t sleep. Instead, I just lay there staring at Dev’s dark window, wondering. First Dev, then Kunal. Why had God written all the lusting bastards into my life?

  Truth

  It was that phase in India when internet was taking popularity. A lot of cyber cafes were being opened here and there, and the young generation was spending a lot of time in them.

  Within these cyber cafes, a new type had evolved. These provided internet and also privacy for couples. Normally if a simple café charged fifty rupees for an hour, these private cafes charged two hundred rupees or more for the same. These were just a few, but they were becoming popular by the day.

  The next day, Kunal met me before Accounts class and requested me to accompany him. I didn’t want to miss the class because Accounts was a tricky subject, but agreed to meet him later. He requested me to meet at Sonam Café two lanes down from Eco-Comm coaching. I was naïve enough to ignore what kind of cyber café it was.

  “Last time you were alone with him, he tried to rape you,” Sarv warned me as I informed them about my plan of bunking Eco-Comm class.

  “Let him try,” I hissed, fisting my hands purposefully. I was ready this time; if he tried to touch me, I would kill him with my bare hands.

  “He is a man, Ishana, your Jhansi-ki-Rani avatar might not work,” Shiva mocked, but I was too serious.

  “I am going because I have to hear the truth from his own mouth.”

  “How do you intend on getting this confession?” Shiva was worried and angry.

  “I have a plan!” and at this they both exchanged a nervous glance. My revenge on Dev was still fresh in their minds. And I guessed they feared I might do something like that again.

  An hour later, I stood in front of Sonam Café. It was a bleak cyber café which only had roguish customers. Kunal was waiting for me outside. He was jumping on his heels jovially. Nervous, I went inside with him, and he took me to a secluded cubicle. “It’s three-fifty per hour to use that one,” the weird café-boy spoke. I looked at him for a second; he was stout, dark, dirty and stinky. Instinctively, I stepped away from him. Kunal handed him a thousand rupee note and smiled. Café-boy rolled it before pocketing and pointed at the clock. It was 4:35 P.M.

  We stepped into the scruffy cubicle and a strong, pungent odor hit my nostrils. I swallowed my own vomit. The cubicle reminded me of the sex-den he had taken me to for raping me. A cold shiver ran down my spine. I looked around with disgust. It was almost a four-by-four cubicle and housed one big seat. A shabby computer was placed in front, and it had the standard Windows desktop page. The paint of the walls had been peeled, as if someone had scratched it with their nails and there were marks of red droplets on the floor and on the lower wall. I gulped in horror, was it blood?

  Kunal wrapped his arms around my torso, but I shrugged him off. “You know I don’t like being touched,” I whispered. This cubicle had no roof and the door was a mere formality. Every word we said, every breath we took was audible outside.

  “You hugged me yesterday,” he complained with a smile.

  “I was too happy to see you, but now,” I started, but he placed his finger on my lips to shush me. Slowly, he bent to kiss me, but I pushed him away this time.

  “Take off your shirt, Kunal,” I demanded, forgetting to whisper.

  He was shocked, but a smile appeared on his lips. He took my words with the wrong meaning.

  “First you, I want to see you!” he hissed in a seducing tone and tugged on my dupatta. I pushed his hand with a sheer force.

  “You got me wrong. I don’t believe your story about heart surgery, take off your shirt,” I ordered. He looked taken aback. I raised my hand to undo his buttons when he stammered, “I have proof.” And at this, he pulled out some documents from his bag which were bills and records of AIIMS hospital. I didn’t even bother looking at those pages. I ordered again, “Shirt, Kunal,”

  “Why? What do you want to see?” He was alarmed. This was definitely not the reason for which he paid a thousand rupees.

  “I studied Biology only last year. You need to open up a human being to perform a surgery. Show me your stitches.” He clearly hadn’t anticipated my demand to see them. He clutched at his shirt.

  “I love you, and you don’t trust me?” he accused me.

  “You tried to rape me, show me your stitches.” I was furious now.

  “I am sorry for that day, I love you, Ishana.” He tried to grab at my shoulder, but I pushed him. He hit the cubicle wall with a huge bang.

  “Don’t you dare touch me,” I yelled, and at these words the cubicle door opened and my best friends were standing there.

  “Don’t you dare touch her,” Sarv repeated, angrily. Before I could ask what they were doing here, Shiva offered an answer. “We followed you, obviously. Last time when you were alone with him, he tried to rape you, who knows what he wanted to do this time!” She scowled at the cubicle.

  “Let’s go,” I whispered, and stepped out. Kunal was way too stunned to speak anything and we left.

  Last Visit

  There was no news from Kunal for the next couple of weeks. To Sarv and Shiva, I had finally gotten over him, but in truth, I couldn’t. I hadn’t even obsessed so much over Dev, as much I obsessed over Kunal. I just could not believe the extent of his lying. I loved him so much, with all my heart and soul. I just couldn’t give him my body, and he had tried to rape it!

  Why?

  Every waking moment I was thinking about him, and I wanted answers. I had prayed for his safe return. I had promised to have sex with him if he came out of heart surgery alive. I had prayed for every waking second and he…he just broke everything in me.

  I was still obsessing over
him when one day I got a call from Khanna Institute. They mentioned that I had forgotten to collect my final salary and should do that tomorrow.

  “It’s a trap.” Shiva echoed my suspicion.

  “Maybe, but I did miss on taking my salary. I need money, Shiva,” I spoke, miserably. And I also needed my answers.

  “Fine, but I will come with you, and I will murder him if he touches you again,” Shiva muttered with rage. And we agreed to visit Khanna Institute one last time.

  Shiva and I went the next day. It was 2 P.M. on a Sunday and the institute was deserted. We parked our cycles in our old spots and headed to the main office. A sense of nostalgia overpowered me. This was the place where everything started. My love for Dev blossomed here, and my love for Kunal started here too. Maybe I should burn this place to the ground!

  We stepped in, and as suspected, Kunal was waiting for us.

  “Why am I even surprised?” Shiva spoke on my behalf.

  “I needed to apologize.” He folded his hands and begged.

  “You don’t need anything,” Shiva started, but I stopped her. “Why did you do it?” I demanded in a straightforward tone. I heard sadness in my own voice.

  “I am sorry.” He sat on his knees in front of me and pleaded. “I am so sorry. I love you, Ishana,”

  “Why?” I demanded, this time in a much stricter tone.

  “The Slut Chronicles!” he spoke, as he hid his face in his palms. For a moment I couldn’t believe my ears, had he just said Slut Chronicles?

  “What?” A soft, shocked whisper escaped my mouth.

  “I read that folder much before we started to talk. I always liked you and when I read it, I just… I just…”

  “Wanted to have sex with me?” I added, sarcastically.

  He nodded and started crying. “I didn’t intend to; I never thought you would be such a gentle, beautiful person. What Dev wrote was all a lie, I saw it over time, Ishana. I love you.” He was sobbing now.

  “Dev never attempted to rape me!” I spoke, incredulous.

  “I am really sorry. He wrote so much about you both, and you won’t even let me touch you. I was jealous, Ishana. I wanted to have more than what he had with you; I wanted you as mine,” he cried.

  “So, you decided to drop your pants and rape me?” I finished, testily. Kunal didn’t respond to it.

  “We are leaving, Ishana,” Shiva pulled my arm.

  “Pay me my money,” I spoke as I extended my arm. “I worked very hard in this institute, I want my salary,” I demanded angrily. At this, he got up and pulled out a stash of notes from a drawer. “I don’t even know how much it is, but it is much more than your salary. It is all yours.” And he placed it in my hands. However, before I could pull my hand back, he grabbed it. “If you will leave me, I will die, Ishana, I swear.”

  “Leave her hand,” Shiva demanded, but I shushed her.

  “Go and wait outside,” I ordered Shiva. She just stared at me in utter disbelief.

  “Believe me, he won’t touch me without my consent this time; I just need to have a private word,” I requested.

  “But why?”

  “Because I loved him with all my heart and now there is one thing I need to discuss, and that can happen only in private,” I insisted, but she didn’t move.

  “I need closure, Shiva. Else this relationship will haunt me forever,” I explained, but it was clear my words were beyond her. She just stared at me in disbelief. “Please,” I added, and raising her eyebrows to the farthest extent, Shiva left, closing the door.

  “I promised God that I would fulfill your desires if you came back alive. Now, I don’t know where you went, but you did come back alive so,” I whispered, pacing up and down.

  “I love you,” he spoke again as he got up. He had the most curious expressions on his face. All his remorse had vanished; it filled my heart with hatred.

  “You are back, and you are alive!” I spoke, standing in front of him. He raised his hand to touch my face, but I stepped back.

  “You know I don’t like people touching me,” I spoke, pushing his hand away. He wore the stupidest expressions and I controlled my urge to hit him.

  “You want to have sex with me?” I demanded in a vexed tone.

  “I want to make love to you,” he corrected. “I can’t make love to you if I can’t touch you.” How easily! I wondered and shook my head in hopelessness. He was such a pig!

  “We can.” I composed myself, and at this, I took off my dupatta. A spark of excitement caressed his face, and he licked his lips. Loathing and writhing with fury, I tied his hands behind his back.

  “What are you doing?” He was shocked, but I could see a hint of a smile appearing on his face. What was he expecting? BDSM? I just wanted to wipe that smile off his face, but I resisted. “I don’t want you to touch me.”

  “Let me, I promise you will fall in love with me again and forever once we make love,” he hissed in an erotic tone. Agitated at his words, tone and smile, I clenched my fist to gain some control. I exhaled heavily, and I pulled a scarf from my bag. “What’s this for?” he demanded.

  At this, I pushed him against the wall rather roughly. He groaned with passion. “You are turning me on,” he whispered in my ear.

  “That’s what we want,” I cooed in his ear.

  “It’s my father’s office,” he smirked. “Lock the door at least.”

  “Let anybody be witness to our love.” And at this, I blindfolded him with my scarf.

  Slowly, softly, I massaged his chest. He groaned with passion. I saw his penis poke from his pants. With one hand I continued to massage his chest, and I rubbed the other all over his body.

  “Oh, Ishana,” he moaned as I caressed his waist. “I don’t think I can control much longer.”

  “Neither can I!” I purred in his ears, exciting his groans…

  “Let’s do it then…” I hissed and…

  Tragedy

  Putting my dupatta back on me and hiding my scarf in my bag, I joined Shiva after some time, I could see she was jumping up and down on her heels with worry.

  “What happened?” she demanded as we mounted our cycles.

  “Nothing,” I spoke with a content smile. “I gave him what he wanted.” I just couldn’t suppress my laughter.

  Seeing me laugh she didn’t say much, but she did seem to think of me as crazy. But in that moment I didn’t care what she or anybody thought; I finally had taken the biggest step of my life. Now I was a woman – a woman who did what she wanted.

  Present Day in the Bar

  “NOOOOOO!!!!” Ravi screamed at Ishana’s words. He stood up, grabbing his hair.

  “I can’t believe you had sex with him?” he barked ferociously. It was midday now, and the bar was pretty crowded. His words were so loud that every head turned in their direction.

  “What?” Ishana hissed, angrily.

  “How could you?” he demanded. He walked to the counter and bought a bottle of bourbon. Ishana waited as he filled his glass and drank it.

  “Have some water!” she offered to avoid his drunken state. He refused.

  “I insist! And oh God no, I didn’t have sex with that bastard,” she finished. As her words registered with him, he took some water and drank. A sense of peace overtook him.

  “But you said!”

  “I said that I gave him what he wanted, but I didn’t say that I had sex with him,” she smiled, vengefully.

  “What else did he want?” Ravi spoke, thoughtfully. Ishana waited for him to guess the brilliance of her actions, but after a minute she gave up.

  “Shall I continue?” she raised her eyebrows impatiently.

  Ravi nodded and pushed aside the bottle of bourbon. In his excitement, he had drunk too much. Now he was regretting it.

  School Life – Year 2001

  Shocking news spread like fire in the forest the next morning. It even reached the media and our school. Headlines of that day’s local newspapers read –

  ‘A bo
y in early twenties dies of heart-attack.’

  ‘Boy dies of heart-attack, body discovered the next day.’

  ‘Heart-attack consumes a boy in twenties – body found in father’s office.’

  Everybody was dumbfounded. After all, Kunal was healthy and fit. He had been hitting the gym twice every day. Doctors were stunned to see him dead. When the police asked for an explanation, they were stumped. “He just went into cardiac arrest. We assume depression or extreme pressure,” was the statement from our small-town doctors – or as printed in the newspaper. Post this incident, a series of lectures commenced educating youth to not take their education so seriously. A couple of counseling sessions were organized to avoid such tragedies.

  Yes, it was tragic and everybody was mourning. Everywhere, people were reminiscing in the myth that Kunal was the golden boy. He was a great kid who loved everybody, never harmed anyone, and his death was such a loss to the world. And how sad and shocking it was that God took him away so soon. Well, everybody except for me.

  “He died,” Shiva exclaimed in shock the next morning. I sat expressionless as she broke the news. Sarv was lost in some deep thought and was gaping at the horizon.

  “What did you say to him?” Shiva asked, wondering.

  “Nothing, just that it was our last meeting ever, and I hoped never to see him again,” I replied, uninterested.

  “Maybe the Goddess of truth was sitting on your tongue at that moment,” Sarv offered. “Why else would a boy so young have a heart attack?”

  “Well, he did say to me that he might die due to some heart injury, maybe your truth Goddess was blessing him then,” I mocked, but Sarv nodded thoughtfully.