by Durjoy Datta
‘Just one more,’ I shouted back. ‘Or maybe two!’
One more went on until I was seven shots down. Or was it eight? I had started to grope or feel her up but she pulled me on to the dance floor, slapping my hands away from her body. We fought our way to the middle of the dance floor, which was now crowded with drunk girls and drunk men flailing their arms around like they knew how to dance.
Avantika held me by the neck and pulled me into her as we grappled for space on the floor. ‘Dance,’ she whispered in my ear as if I knew how to, and then held my hands and placed them on her waist and writhed in my grasp. Her eyes never left mine, and she turned and twisted and gyrated against my body. I just stared, a little turned on, a little surprised and drunk out of my senses. And then almost like nobody was watching us, she turned and pulled me close, and her tongue unapologetically wandered in my mouth. Just when I grabbed her to kiss her back, she pushed me back and led me off the dance floor.
‘What happened?’ I asked her, my tongue flapping like a fish out of water.
‘Let’s keep something for the night, shall we?’
‘As you say.’
She excused herself for a little girl time and left for the washroom as I glugged down the rest of my drink that I had left on the table. It had become warm, but it had no taste, not to me. I looked at my watch. It had been more than an hour that we had been dancing and it hardly felt like it. I ordered another drink and looked around for the other two. I ran my eyes over scores of little black dresses but I could not find hers. I wondered if Mittal and Malini had something going by then and it made me squirm.
But then I found Malini sitting in a corner, drinking a red cocktail from a long twirling straw. She sat alone, cross-legged, her perfectly sculpted legs shining under the club’s lights. The jogs around the campus really showed their effect as she had never looked hotter. I went up to her, flopped on the couch next to her and suppressed an urge to run my fingers over her naked thighs. YOU’RE DRUNK, I reprimanded myself.
‘Where is he?’
‘He?’ she asked. Her eyes were rolling up. She was definitely drunk. ‘Oh, he has just gone for a smoke.’
‘You didn’t go, you Toronto-returned babe?’ I mocked. I was drunk, yet I knew that I wasn’t being funny and wanted to drown in her cocktail. I just wanted to shut up and stop looking.
‘No, I am just a little too drunk to smoke right now,’ she said and put both her arms around my neck.
‘Yes. You seem so,’ I said, my head still spinning.
‘And you are so sweet,’ she said, her eyes losing focus, and closing.
‘Thank you.’
She leaned further into me.
‘You are such a nice guy,’ she said, then touched my nose with her finger and tapped it.
‘You are not all that bad either.’
I felt her pushing her body against mine, closer and closer still; her hands held my face and pulled it closer to hers till it hovered centimetres away and her breath warmed up mine as it wafted from her parted lips to mine. I felt her lips brush against mine. Her perfume overwhelmed my nostrils and she looked deep into my eyes with those limpid wet eyes of hers and asked me to come closer. Her lips enveloped mine. And mine hers; I felt the wetness on my lips.
‘Deb?’ I heard, amidst all the noise. I looked up and found Avantika staring directly at me, and she didn’t look pleased at all.
23
We had not spoken for an hour. She stood by the door and I sat on the bed. I could hear the silent sobs. She did not look at me once in all this while and it was killing me from inside. I did not know what to say; I didn’t deserve to say anything to her. Sitting there rewinding repeatedly in my mind what had happened, I cursed myself. I wondered if that was the last time I would be in her room. I wondered if that was the end of us. I was praying she would say something and not stand there and cry. It was becoming unbearable and I just wanted to hug her and say that I was sorry. But sorry? Again? I didn’t deserve to use that word again.
I had kissed the same girl, twice in fifteen days. This time I was not even drunk and I knew exactly what was happening there in the club. I was not drunk. There was no excuse this time.
I needed to look into myself this time before talking to Avantika. What did I just do? Why did I kiss Malini? Was it a mistake? Twice?
‘Deb,’ she said, her voice as cold as steel. The gravity in her voice shook me and it was a harbinger of tough times, I could tell.
‘Yes.’ My voice trembled.
‘You should go now.’
‘What?’ I said. I should go? Like forever? Is that what she means? I hoped not and I did not move. I did not want to. What have I done?
‘You should leave,’ she said. ‘Just go.’
‘But—’ I said, yet I had nothing to say.
‘Please don’t say anything, just go, Deb.’
I left the room, my eyes stuck at her until she closed the door. I saw those eyes, stricken and filled with tears and thought maybe it was best to leave her alone. I walked through the corridors, my head hung low and tears streaked down my cheeks.
‘Just go, Deb.’
I felt sick in the pit of my stomach and I felt I would be sick, like physically sick. I went to my room and logged into Gmail. She pinged me as soon as I was online.
Avantika: Why, Deb? Why?
Me: I am sorry, Avantika. I don’t know how it happened. I am really sorry. I love you. You know I do. Don’t you?
Avantika: Whatever I saw today makes me doubt everything, Deb. You shared a room with her for two nights. God knows what happened then? What are you not telling me?
Me: For the sake of everything we have shared over the last few years, please believe me. I am not lying. I will never lie to you. She just came on to me.
Avantika: Don’t give me that. I saw you. Don’t just put it on her.
Me: I am sorry, Avantika. I know it is hard to trust me, but please, baby, I love you, and I love you more than anything in this world. Please, you know that.
Avantika: But it is not good enough. How do I forget what I saw? I was right there, Deb, right there! Would you have accepted it?
Me: I am sorry.
Avantika: I want to forgive you. I really do. But I really don’t know what to do.
Me: Avantika, don’t do this.
Avantika: I just think we should stay away for a little time.
Me: Please don’t? I wouldn’t be able to take it. Please, don’t do this to me.
Avantika: Let me figure out things. Give me some time. Let’s take a break. Till that time just think whether you would forgive me for the same.
Me: I would.
Avantika: No, you wouldn’t.
Me: Are you leaving me?
I had tears in my eyes as I wrote this.
Avantika: I never said that. I just want to be alone for a little while. And probably you need to get a few things straight too. Take this time to do it.
Me: Baby, don’t do this. Please, let me come to you. I am sorry. Please.
Avantika: Deb, please. All I am asking from you, please, don’t contact me for a few days. Please. I love you, Deb. I always will, but please?
Me: How long, baby?
Avantika: I will tell you. Bye, baby. Take care.
I was crying now. I was frantic, shaking. She cannot do this to me, I thought. But she could. She had just done it.
Me: Bye.
Avantika: Best of luck.
She went offline and I felt like my head would implode. I sent offliners but she did not reply. I sent a zillion mails asking for forgiveness, pouring my heart out, even threatening that I would end myself if she didn’t reply. I wrote to her to tell her how much she meant to me and how much I hated myself for what I had done but she did not reply. I called her, but she cut the phone every time and texted me not to call her.
Her message read:
I love you, Deb. But I need some time alone. Please give me that. I trust you and whatever you feel f
or me. Just let me be with myself for a few days. Please don’t message and call me to make it worse. Please. I beg you.
I was choking on my own tears, wailing like an old woman, howling. I felt angry and disgusted at myself and at Malini. I wanted to call up Shashank but I felt ashamed. What would I say to him? I re-read the chat a million times; my eyes never left my Google Talk contact list to see if she had unblocked me.
The room came on to bite me. I kept texting her about how much I wanted her back and how I would make things right, but she did not reply.
The worst part was that I did not even have an answer for myself. What I did was a stupid, horny mistake … but why? I knew it was wrong, but why did I do it? I wished I could undo the last twelve hours. I wished I had never known Malini.
Every time the phone beeped, my heart pounded only to be dampened for it would not be her. The calls went unanswered.
I waited for the morning class where I would get to see her again. Time came to a standstill; every minute seemed like an hour, laborious and torturous. Things will be fine, I told myself. I closed my eyes, and hoped that when I would wake up, it would all be gone. Like a bad dream. I consoled myself that she would read all the messages and feel for me.
The next morning, I woke up half an hour before time and didn’t shave or brush my hair, for I thought it would invoke pity. I waited outside the class but she did not come. The professor entered the class and she was still nowhere to be seen. I wondered if she was okay. I took the seat where we usually used to sit. After five minutes, she entered the class; one innocent smile with a believable excuse is all it took her to get attendance. She sat on the first seat.
I texted her but it looked like she had left the phone in her room. So I wrote a note to her on a piece of paper and asked the person sitting next to me to pass it along to her. She read it, crumpled it. She looked behind and her eyes seemed to say, Please leave me alone. There was no escaping it. The class crawled to its finish and Avantika left the class in a hurry. I walked behind her, but clearly, she did not want to talk to me. Or even look at me. I felt disgusted with myself for what I had done to her. She entered the girls’ hostel and I stood there, hoping she would at least look back once and acknowledge my presence. She did not and I trudged back to the room. I sent her a few more texts hoping she would check her phone messages once she got back to her room.
I signed into Google Talk, with the only hope that she would have unblocked me. She surprisingly had. Never had I been more relieved or happy to see the tiny red dot against a name on that list. Is the break over?
Avantika: What if I had done the same with Kabir?
Me: Don’t say that, baby.
Avantika: I am sorry. Give me some time, Deb. I will be fine. I miss you. Bye.
She signed off and blocked me again. I read the conversation repeatedly. The first sentence was as hurting as the last one was comforting. She missed me and I smiled. I closed my eyes and tried to catch up on some sleep between the two classes, forcing myself to dream of a time when Avantika and I would be together again.
24
‘Still fighting?’ Mittal asked.
‘She is not talking to me.’
‘It will be fine. Malini asked me to tell you that she is sorry,’ he said and for the first time, Mittal sounded sorry.
Malini was not in the class. Slut, I said to myself.
Mittal told me Malini was not answering his calls and had asked him to fuck off. Guilt, I figured. I had got used to the feeling in the past few days. It kills you and empties you from the inside. The class ended and Avantika walked out of the class without even looking at me once. I felt deserted and lonely. It was a disease and it was affecting every part of me. Even Shashank had left with Farah on a small vacation to Lansdowne.
Back in the room, I spent hours lying prostrate on my bed, staring at the ceiling, wishing I were dead. My phone lay beside me and it hadn’t rung in days. She was not calling every few minutes like she did. How I wished she had something to call me for: an assignment, maybe an extra class, something! Anything!
Everything in the room reminded me of her. I fiddled with my phone and called her a few times. But she didn’t pick up, hardly denting my ego or self-pride; I would call her again in a bit. I left my room as it got hard for me to stay there any longer. Walking aimlessly around the campus, kicking stray stones didn’t help either. I saw her everywhere, in couples that were sitting around, talking about the next quiz, the placement season and CGPAs, in the small cafes around the campus.
I walked past a bench on which we often spent our nights talking about the past that we had seen and the future that lay in front of us. A part of me hoped she would miss me and come to that bench too. A few joggers ran past me and between them, I saw Malini running.
Slut, I thought, just like I was.
25
It had been a week and every evening I had seen her jog past that bench. Sometimes, she had tears in her eyes but I never felt pity. If anything, I was still angry at her. Despite that there were times when I had thought of calling out her name and talking to her. I had not talked to anyone in over a week and I could do with some company.
I called out her name and she stopped. We stood there looking at each other for quite some time, not knowing what to say. I did not know what she was thinking but my mind battled with the thought of abusing her for screwing up everything.
‘You wouldn’t want to talk to me,’ she cried aloud.
‘I shouldn’t,’ I shouted back. She started walking away, still crying.
‘Malini!’ I shouted out again. ‘Maybe I should.’
‘Maybe you should not,’ she wailed out. She stuck her earphones back in her ears and ran away; I stood there watching her go.
One day, she stopped running when she saw me sitting on the bench looking straight at her. I was waiting for her. Without a word she came and sat near me. An hour passed but we hadn’t talked. She fiddled with her earphones. A tear or two trickled down her cheeks occasionally. I could not care less. I just sat there and tried to figure out just one answer … ‘Why, Deb?’ Why had I kissed her? It became clear to me that it was just the alcohol. I had no feelings for her whatsoever. Seeing her cry didn’t move me.
‘I am sorry,’ she said, breaking the silence that hung like death between us.
‘Hmm …’
‘I really didn’t mean to …’
‘I know.’
‘I am such a whore,’ she said.
Maybe you are, and maybe I am, too. I had spent hours thinking about what made me do what I did, and it didn’t make sense.
‘I am sorry for ruining it,’ she said.
‘Nothing is ruined. She will come back. I will make her come back.’
‘You can’t do that if you sit next to me,’ she said.
‘Hmm …’
‘I should go.’
‘Maybe.’
She shook my hand, wished me luck and walked away. And suddenly in a moment, I had no one to talk to again.
26
The nights were even harder. The darker it got the more painful it became. I closed my diary, the repository of all the beautiful things I had shared with her: the big fights, the big loves, the big surprises, the birthdays and the anniversaries.
I had time, loads of it, and I didn’t know what to do with it, so I sat and I thought about her till my head hurt. It felt like somebody was stabbing me repeatedly and those stabs never missed the heart. I became restless, and I wanted to walk up to her room and bang on her door and ask for forgiveness. But all she wanted was a few days alone. I took a deep breath and told myself that everything would be fine.
‘It will be fine, man,’ Shashank said, his voice cracking.
I could hear Farah in the background, shouting at him for something; their vacation was going as planned. I could have been with him, buried in a warm duvet with Avantika, laughing and kissing, our toes intertwining. I cut the line and apologized for disturbing him. My mind w
as now stuck there. Every trip that Avantika and I had gone on flashed in front of my eyes.
Kasauli. Rishikesh. Goa. Mumbai. The long talks on the balconies, the early morning bed teas, the late-night snuggles, the morning showers, the ‘cancel-all-plans-and-stay-here’ looks, the pecks, even the packing and the unpacking—it all came right in front of my eyes. I slept peacefully that day, without a worry, without a frown, with a lot of love in my heart, images of her in my eyes and the hope in my heart that things would be fine the next day.
The days were not getting any better. I obsessed about tracking every movement of hers; from her room to the class, from the library to the mess, from the mess to the classroom … I was losing my shit. My only consolation was to see her crying occasionally, and it gave me a glimmer of hope that she missed me and wanted me back as much as I wanted her. It had been two weeks now and there was nothing more comforting than watching her every day.
Once every few days, I would buckle down and bombard her with calls, messages and mails and all she did was to tell me sweetly that she needed time and she still loved me. I could never say anything beyond it.
Over the last few days, all the study groups had started working on their assignments, which meant Avantika was spending a lot of time with her group and Kabir. To see her with Kabir felt unimaginably painful, like someone slowly pulling all my hair, one by one. I put myself in her place and tried to imagine what it must have been like for her to see me with Malini that day in the club.
The few hours that I spent on the bench became a regular affair, a habit. I used to sit there and wait for Avantika to come. She never did but I saw Malini every day on her evening jog with a dead look on her face, earphones hanging loosely in front of her, and tears in her eyes. I could see her pick up pace as she approached the bench. We avoided eye contact. Sometimes I thought of calling out her name, but then I would decide otherwise.
