She Broke Up, I Didn't: I Just Kissed Someone Else!

by Datta, Durjoy

  Being with Avantika was a constant battle; the feeling of insecurity never went away. I was just an average-looking guy with strange hair and a patch of beard on my chin. I didn’t deserve a second look or a second date. Avantika always told me that she liked my dimple, but people usually missed it. No one, absolutely no one and that includes my mother, found me cute.

  ‘He doesn’t like me,’ Avantika said.

  ‘But he is better, right?’

  ‘He is not better for me.’

  ‘But he is better. If you were not with me, he would be your obvious choice. Or someone like him.’

  Why couldn’t she just lie that I was better! I never said Malini had better hair, or wore better shoes. It wasn’t true, but still I wouldn’t have said it even if it were true.

  ‘Deb, if I were not with you it would not matter. But I am with you and for me, you are the best. I would prefer a shoe from a street-side shop than a Jimmy Choo that doesn’t fit me.’

  ‘Firstly, it’s interesting to know that men are like shoes to you. And secondly, he’s a Jimmy Choo and I’m a street-side shoe? What’s next? That I’m a pair of slippers and he’s a pair of stilettos?’

  ‘You’re taking the analogy too far,’ she growled.

  ‘You started it!’

  ‘You are making me angry now,’ she said, her eyes widening to show it.

  ‘I’m sorry. I just don’t like the guy. He’s so good at everything he does, and he’s fucking arrogant about it.’

  She held my hand and calmed me down. ‘By the way, how do you know he likes me?’ she asked. ‘Just curious.’

  ‘I just know. It is evident. I have seen him look at you. He shuffles his feet and sweats and he’s not his usual bastard self when he’s with you,’ I explained.

  ‘But he has a girlfriend, Deb. And that is all he talks about.’

  ‘So what? I can tell by the way he looks at you and drools. I don’t blame him for that,’ I said.

  ‘Do you drool at other women too?’

  ‘I am yet to come across a girl who is half as hot as you are. And I never move around without you. It is good for my ego to have you by my side. But yes, put Angelina Jolie with nothing on, that might stir something more than emotions,’ I smirked.

  ‘Good for you. I think there is an empty seat there. I will go there and from now on you can think of her and stir whatever you want to,’ she said irritably.

  ‘What? Why are you being angry?’

  ‘I am not angry. I just want the best for you.’ She smiled and tip-toed her fingers up my thigh. ‘So who are you thinking about now? Angelina Jolie?’ she smirked.

  ‘Cancel Pune. Let’s go back.’

  6

  The bus rolled into the city of Pune and we hired a taxi to my sister’s place. Avantika slept through most of the bus journey and the taxi ride. When the taxi reached my sister’s place, her hair was ruffled and her cheeks were puffed and she looked downright edible.

  ‘I am kind of nervous,’ Avantika said and combed her hair. ‘Do I look fine?’

  ‘It is not the first time you are meeting her. And you know she loves you a lot. I’m sure you two will get along.’

  ‘You wouldn’t understand.’

  ‘Try me,’ I said as I unloaded our bags, hers mostly.

  ‘It is different now. I met her once, and that too when I was in college. It has been years. Things are different now’

  ‘Twice, at the wedding too,’ I added.

  ‘That doesn’t count.’

  ‘It does. She liked your gift the best among hundred others. She said it was thoughtful and different. I was so happy that she said that. Even you were.’

  ‘Deb … but she knows we are together now. Earlier, she just knew that we are friends.’ I shrugged. ‘And as usual, you are of no help at all.’

  I rang the bell and heard footsteps moving towards the door. It had been nearly a year since I had seen my sister. I had missed being around her, and I realized that when I heard the door click. My lips curved into a smile and then into a grin.

  ‘Oh … look who is here! Finally got time?’ she taunted.

  ‘Yeah. And you have grown fat. The Bengali genes are finally kicking in,’ I retorted.

  ‘That doesn’t work. I am still lighter than you.’ She smiled back. ‘Come in, Avantika. I like your scarf.’

  She led us in, and after I stacked the suitcases in a corner, we sat down on the sofa. Aparna Di was a bit of a talker and for the good part of fifteen minutes she kept telling Avantika how beautiful she looked and how she always knew that I was smitten by her. The maid served us tea and biscuits and it was left untouched on the table as my sister went on and on about how she had reined in Arnab’s bachelor instincts and had tamed him. I hoped Avantika was not noting down pointers.

  ‘See, I don’t really have to be formal with you guys. I’m a very bad wife and a worse host. So ask for anything, and the fridge is there, so help yourselves,’ Aparna Di said and went into the kitchen to instruct the maid.

  I noticed that she and Arnab were doing pretty well for themselves. The house was decked up with things from around the world and she looked happy and content. Since my sister was a bit of a crackpot, I hadn’t given their marriage more than six months, so this was a welcome surprise.

  ‘So, Avantika, how did you like Mumbai?’ she asked.

  ‘It was good, better than Delhi for sure. But I love this place too. It is so quiet.’

  ‘I know. He always wanted a house away from the city.’ Aparna Di smiled.

  ‘How sweet!’ Avantika said.

  ‘So, if you guys were to pick a city to settle in, which one would you pick?’ Aparna Di asked abruptly.

  That question was strange enough to bring a smile to my face and a pink blush to Avantika’s fair cheeks.

  ‘C’mon, don’t kid me. You guys have obviously thought about it,’ she said. ‘It’s been a long time that you two have been dating.’

  ‘Mumbai.’

  ‘Delhi.’

  She and I said respectively. We had talked about it a few times, but in our discussions it was either Singapore or Mauritius. Skyscraper-lit skies and the blue seas around us, a life of comfort, luxury and unending love.

  ‘Discord already? Deb, Delhi? Avantika, Mumbai?’ she smiled.

  Avantika and I looked at each other and I turned. ‘Mumbai is not that bad,’ I said.

  Aparna Di laughed.

  ‘What?’ I asked.

  She kept laughing.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Avantika owns you. You’re like a zombie slave to her,’ she chuckled.

  ‘I … am … It’s not that,’ I mumbled.

  ‘Okay, whatever. That is your room. I am a little tired with all the cooking. I will go catch a nap. And, Avantika, I have a lot to talk about with you,’ she said.

  ‘Looking forward,’ Avantika said and they hugged.

  Aparna Di left us in the living room for her routine afternoon nap; it’s a very Bengali thing to do—sleeping in the afternoons.

  ‘I like your sister. She is fun,’ she said as she dragged one of our suitcases to our room.

  ‘I just find her boring and drab. It’s been two decades. She is repetitive.’

  ‘She is all parts of you, in a compact female form.’ She smiled. ‘I quite like her. I also really like this bed,’ she said, with that drunken look in her eyes.

  ‘I thought you said the kitchen slab.’

  ‘I like that too.’

  ‘I thought you like the bathtub.’

  ‘I like that as well.’

  ‘Why don’t you say you like me?’ I smirked.

  ‘Maybe I don’t. Maybe I just own you,’ she said and kissed me. ‘You’re just a zombie slave.’

  Aparna Di had been knocking on the door for quite some time now, I could tell. Avantika woke me up and we scrambled for our clothes.

  ‘So, finally you two are up?’ said Aparna Di, waiting at the table for both of us. I glanced at the clock. We
had been inside that room for four hours; it was already ten.

  ‘Avantika?’

  ‘Yes, Di?’

  ‘Don’t make it so obvious,’ Di said and pulled Avantika’s hair out from under her T-shirt. Avantika smiled shyly.

  ‘I don’t know what you see in my brother. You’re so pretty. Both of you look awful together. You should find someone better looking,’ said Aparna Di. ‘Taller and smarter.’

  ‘On account of sharing the same bloodline,’ I said, ‘you should be on my side. And I have dated pretty girls before her, too.’

  ‘Deb,’ Di answered, ‘I have seen everyone you have dated. None of them come even close.’

  ‘Thank you, Aparna Di,’ Avantika said and flashed her middle finger at me.

  ‘Whatever, I know I’m average and stuff. You don’t have to rub it in my face,’ I conceded.

  ‘Aw! See, so cute,’ Avantika said. ‘I have never met a guy so nice. That’s why I love you. He’s really a nice guy, Aparna Di. Like that.’ She snapped her fingers.

  ‘As long as you’re happy, Avantika,’ Di said. ‘If he doesn’t keep you happy, I can set you up with someone else.’

  ‘I will keep that in mind, Di,’ Avantika said and they both laughed.

  Di said it was late and we should eat. We nodded; we had been hungry and exhausted from the bus ride. The maid served us prodigious quantities and we did not say no. The food was great, and Di attributed it to the expensive yet fabulous cook they had hired.

  ‘The food is awesome, Aparna Di,’ Avantika said appreciatively.

  ‘I know. I tell him that all the time.’ Aparna Di pointed towards the cook and we chuckled. I ate till I was bursting at my seams.

  ‘Hey, I have something for you. Just wait here,’ Aparna Di said and disappeared inside her room. A little later, she came out with an envelope in her hand.

  ‘Here,’ she handed over an envelope to Avantika. ‘A small gift from Arnab and me for the two of you. This is the first time you have come to Pune and you can’t go empty-handed.’

  ‘What? We do not need this … you don’t have to,’ Avantika said as she opened the envelope and her voice trailed away. ‘Umm?’

  ‘What is it?’ I asked, bending over to see what Avantika’s trembling hands were holding.

  ‘Two tickets to Goa?’ Avantika mumbled.

  ‘She is just trying to buy you with these things,’ I said. ‘Not that I mind.’ I took the bunch of papers from her hand; flight tickets and hotel reservation receipts of what was clearly a high-end resort.

  ‘Thank you so much,’ Avantika said and hugged Aparna Di, teary eyed.

  ‘It is my pleasure, Avantika. And remember my offer. I know many guys—Arnab’s friends—who are tall and dark and handsome, quite unlike my brother who’s, like, the ugly duckling of our beautiful family.’

  ‘Deb is tall, dark and …’ Avantika said and her words dried up. It was like those English movies, in which the daughter brings home a good-for-nothing son-in-law and says to her grumpy father, ‘I know, Dad … He is the one.’ I did not know what to do but smile stupidly.

  ‘I wouldn’t say anything to that,’ Aparna Di said.

  Avantika and Di chatted for a little while in the dining room, and I watched the rerun of an old India vs Australia test match. I had dozed off when Avantika woke me up.

  ‘I simply love your sister,’ Avantika gushed.

  ‘Yes, you made that pretty evident.’ I yawned.

  ‘I want to marry you,’ she said.

  ‘Because you love my sister?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I would have gotten my brother to marry her if she was younger and he was older.’

  ‘If wishes were horses, beggars would ride.’

  ‘You are calling me a beggar?’

  ‘Not yet. You are still not in skimpy rags or anything.’

  ‘Deb! Is there a time of day when you’re not thinking about sex?’

  ‘No. You?’ I asked her.

  ‘Next topic please,’ she said.

  ‘I won that argument. Can we kiss already?’

  ‘Just because you win,’ she said and kissed me. ‘Who told her about Goa?’

  ‘I did,’ I said. ‘But I didn’t ask her to get us tickets. It was all her. Arnab has a lot of money to spare it seems.’

  ‘I love you.’

  We switched off the lights and walked to our room, trudging slowly, our stomachs full and aching. I flopped on the bed and she wrapped herself around me.

  ‘Remember the first time we met?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes, when you thought I was dumb and ugly?’ I mocked.

  ‘I never thought we would end up like this,’ she said and ran her hands through my hair.

  ‘Neither did I. I never believed in fate or destiny before I met you. But you made me believe in those.’ I flicked away the hair from the front of her eyes and tucked them behind her ears. ‘Why else would you be with me?’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘I was never the right guy. Moreover, you were the right girl for millions of guys out there, guys who are better than me. Girls like you don’t fall in love with guys like me.’

  She held my hand and said, ‘Words. Deb, words. That is what you have and that is what a girl needs. After a few years, even if you are not as cute as you are right now, your words would still have the magic they do now. They would still make me feel beautiful and wanted. You are all I need, Deb.’

  She was right; words bound us together and no matter how much time passed between us, we still knew what to say to make everything all right. We hugged, with tears in our eyes, and our hearts filled with love and with memories of yesterday and fond images of tomorrow.

  The next day, we left for Goa.

  7

  ‘I can’t believe you just did that,’ I said, my tongue flailing in my mouth in its drunkenness; she was sloshed too, red eyed and dangerously uninhibited.

  ‘I didn’t do it alone!’ said Avantika, as she almost stumbled over a stray dog that yelped and ran.

  ‘But it was you. You initiated it!’ I accused her.

  We had just made out in a nightclub’s warehouse. There is something in Goa that just makes you so sexually charged; it’s in the air really. Moreover, if you’re dating someone like Avantika, it’s unlikely that you wouldn’t make out everywhere that you go.

  ‘He was looking!’

  ‘Who?’ she asked as we lay down on the beach, yards away from where the water washed up. It was three in the night and the beach was deserted; even the policemen who patrol the beaches to catch unsuspecting horny couples had called it a day, or a night.

  ‘The bartender! He was LOOKING.’

  ‘I don’t give a damn … But did you like it?’

  ‘Like hell!’ I said. ‘But how much did you pay him to open the warehouse for you? The bartender?’

  ‘I kissed him!’ she shrieked.

  ‘What?’

  ‘On the cheek!’ exclaimed Avantika. ‘Duh. Obviously.’

  ‘Ah … fine,’ I said. ‘Worth it.’

  ‘Totally,’ she said and we lay on our backs. We looked up at the starlit sky and listened to the roar of waves. We were the only ones there. I could make out the Orion, the only constellation I knew; the headless-legless woman in a sari. I was clearly still high.

  ‘Deb?’ Avantika broke the silence.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Do you want to do it here?’ She looked at me with those drunken eyes, and ran her fingers over my face. My answer was already in the affirmative; the drool confirmed it.

  ‘I have heard it’s dangerous. Goa police is pretty strict about it!’ I said.

  ‘Is that a yes or no?’

  ‘When has that ever been a no?’

  I pulled her by the neck … She broke out of my embrace and walked towards the water. My head still spun from the alcohol I had drunk and the weed I had smoked, both of which were rare occurrences. By the time I stood up, she was in knee-deep water. She turned and looked at m
e. Slowly, she slipped out of her top. Her sarong was wet and floated on the water; she got rid of them. Only her red innerwear separated her from nakedness. Avantika covered her breasts with her hands, looked away from me and walked deeper into the water. The water on her fair legs glistened under the moonlight. She kept walking away from me, inviting me, as my unsure wasted steps took me towards her. Her hair blew across her face and the moonlight reflected off her flawless, wet skin.

  Her washboard abs, the flat stomach, the most tastefully shaped breasts. The milky white sculpted thighs and calves. I was losing my head. I cut through the water to get to her. She removed her hands from her breasts and put them around my neck. We walked further away from the shore. The lights on the beach were now at a distance where we could hardly see them. We were neck deep in the water. There was water all around us. We breathed heavily. Waves splashed water all around, and she looked even more seductive as small water droplets clung to her face, and her wet hair stuck on her shoulders. It was just the two of us in an open wide sea—water, moonlight and lust engulfed us. We kissed.

  The Goa trip was fabulous beyond words. The nights under the starlit sky on the deserted beaches, walks along the shores, lying next to each other until the sun rose … till it set again, the kisses in the neck-deep water, the pastas I loved, the pastas she hated for having had too much of them, the stolen kisses everywhere, places we lay bare, the hired bike and unchartered hikes, my shorts, her sarongs, my favourite tunes and her loved songs, the late-night walks and the aimless talks, the holding of hands, the waking up to the morning bands, the pointless staring, the clubs, the cocktails and the music blaring, the churches, the shacks, the strangers, the vodka, the hangovers.

  For two days, life had stood still. We fell in love again. We celebrated it.

  8

  The train journey from Goa to Delhi and back to our hostel was uneventful except for the huge fight we had over Kabir where I was being unreasonable, and we spent twenty-odd hours staring outside the grilled windows of our train.

  The company we had done our internship with had offered both Kabir and Avantika jobs in the same department. It was a little hard for me to accept that the two of them would be working together after a year, and it drove me nuts.