If It’s Not Forever: It’s Not Love

by Datta, Durjoy

  ‘We are sorry for the trouble, but you have to come downstairs and sign the entry register and submit photocopies to the receptionist. It’s standard procedure,’ the policeman says politely.

  ‘It’s harassment,’ Avantika says arrogantly.

  ‘Madamji, it’s procedure.’

  ‘Fine,’ we both say. Our tones indicate that we are not at all pleased by what he has asked us to do.

  We close the door behind us and walk down the dark, creaky and narrow stairs of the hotel. As we approach the reception, we see twenty more people there, all cribbing about how they had to wake up in the middle of the night and how the procedures are all fucked up.

  We get in line. Then we overhear a heated argument in the room adjoining the reception. I ignore it and look how far the line has moved. There are still five more people ahead of us. The old people are taking ages to write their names down. The noise from the adjoining room just keeps getting louder. Everyone turns to see what’s happening inside. I look in the direction where everyone else is looking and I’m taken aback.

  What the fuck!

  Shrey?

  ‘That’s Shrey, right?’ I point to the little window of that room.

  Avantika turns to look and is equally shocked. ‘Yes! What’s going on there?’

  ‘Let’s go,’ I say, hold her hand and walk towards the room. Friends in need are such pests. We instinctively go out of our way to help them. It’s often involuntary and lands us in trouble. But we just don’t learn.

  I knock. No one listens. I knock again and enter. There are five people in police uniforms who stare right at us. Two of them are the ones who had come to our room. I look at Shrey and he looks at me and freezes, his hands hanging in mid-air as he stops in the middle of an animated discussion. In a corner is Tiya, and she looks at us, equally shocked.

  Their eyes say what ours do: ‘What the fuck!’

  There is silence for a little while after which the most senior policeman asks, ‘Kaun hai ye?’ He almost barks with authority.

  ‘Press se hai!’ one of the policemen says.

  ‘Boliye?’ The senior guy nods and asks us. ‘Kya chahiye?’

  ‘We know them,’ I say.

  ‘They are with you?’ he asks, his voice not softening.

  ‘Yes,’ I say.

  ‘What are their names?’ he asks and looks straight at me.

  ‘Shrey and Tiya. They are with us,’ I repeat.

  ‘Do you know the girl is just eighteen? Should she be out like this? Do you know what these two were doing? Chhee! Is this what your parents teach you?’ he asks. He gets into a preachy, irritating dad mode.

  ‘We are doing a project. She is an intern and is working with us. And, sir, we know she is eighteen and hence can take her own decisions,’ Avantika says sternly.

  ‘You kids these days think you can do anything—’

  ‘We are not breaking any law,’ she says even more sternly. And when she does that, no one—absolutely no one—can stand up to her. She looked freakishly dangerous and mean.

  ‘Fine,’ he says as he gives up. ‘Take their details and let them go.’

  We move out of the room. And as we do that, Shrey whispers in my ear, ‘Press? Since when?’

  ‘Fifteen minutes ago.’

  ‘Shit! Why didn’t it occur to me?’ He looks at me with respect.

  We stand in line, write down our names and submit our IDs. All the while, the five men in uniform hang around us. The four of us keep faking conversations about international conferences with ministers and MLAs. We make sure they hear us.

  Once we enter the room, Shrey says, ‘What the hell are you two doing here?’

  ‘Apparently, saving your ass from getting kicked,’ Avantika says smugly.

  ‘Seriously, man. They were about to call her parents. Luckily, I didn’t say anything about what we were doing here,’ Shrey says.

  Tiya, who had not spoken anything till then, suddenly runs to Avantika and hugs her. She starts to cry. Avantika looks at her, puzzled, for a while. She smiles, pats her and assures her that nothing will happen.

  ‘They scared her, man,’ Shrey says softly. ‘They were about to call her parents. They said she will have to go back to Delhi with them.’

  ‘She didn’t say anything?’

  ‘No, luckily. Thanks, man. One minute more and she would have said sorry and cried … we would have been so screwed,’ he says.

  ‘But what was the argument all about? What the fuck were those guys talking about? Why did they get hold of you?’ I ask.

  ‘They caught us making out,’ he says with a smirk.

  ‘What? Where?’

  ‘We were doing it in the balcony. One of them saw us and thought there was some sex racket thing going on in the hotel. So they wanted to call her parents and check,’ he says.

  ‘You’re a sex-starved bastard,’ I say.

  ‘Look who’s talking!’

  ‘This is different. And I don’t do it in the balcony.’

  ‘Unlucky you,’ he says and winks.

  I make a mental note to self—do it in the balcony. And I am a little jealous. Anyway Avantika asks Shrey where they are headed. Shrey and Tiya had picked Ahmedabad as the next city but had lost their way.

  They ask Avantika if they could tag along. She smiles and tells them they are most welcome to do so. Shrey asks us why we picked Gandhinagar and we avoid the question. It’s been a long night and we go to sleep. Avantika with Tiya and Shrey with me. We are not taking any chances. The balcony make-out would have to wait another night.

  I text Avantika—Have we ever done it in the balcony?

  She replies—We will. Soon. Good night. XOXO.

  The next morning, we leave early. Tiya is still sleepy, so she sleeps in the back seat, while Shrey drives the rented motorcycle alongside our car. It’s a 1987 Harley Davidson, collector’s edition, and it looks ragingly hot. The engine makes more noise than an airplane’s turbine and it looks powerful and imposing. Too bad, I would never get to drive it.

  My parents have always been paranoid about two-wheelers. They never let me even pillion-ride one, let alone ride it. They used to tell me ghastly stories about brutal accidents and I used to believe everything they told me. Consequently, I never learnt to drive one. Pretty shitty, I know.

  It’s been a couple of hours since we’ve been driving. The sun comes out a little. The weather keeps getting more pleasant and the views more spectacular.

  Tiya wakes up after a while, rubs her eyes and asks, ‘Where are we?’

  ‘Umm, no idea,’ I say.

  ‘Amazing!’ she says as she looks around, stands up on the back seat and stretches her arms, just like they do in the movies. Avantika and I look at her, a little scared that she might fall of, a little jealous because she is the first one to do that. She takes out her huge camera and starts to click pictures. Avantika and I smile for a few pictures. She makes us look good in them. Her talent in undeniable.

  ‘STOP!’ she says suddenly. I screech the car to a halt.

  ‘What?’ Before Avantika can even say that, Tiya is already sitting behind Shrey and hugging him tight.

  Shrey gives her a cute yellow helmet, she puts it on and they race ahead of us. Avantika looks at them and sighs. I hold her hand and tell her I love her. That’s how I try to make up for my flaws. I tell her that I love her and assume that it works. I know she wants to sit behind and be driven around on a gorgeous motorcycle, but she has a useless boyfriend like me.

  Meanwhile, Tiya stretches her arms and leans back dangerously on the bike, but I think it must be fun. We enter the state and are just a few hours from where we have to go. Avantika switches places with me and we drive on. The weather, the setting, the scenes around us—perfect to fall in love all over again. We stop at a roadside eating joint and order for ourselves. Last night now seems so far back in history. Time’s flying by and I love this life.

  ‘It’s a freakish coincidence that we’re back together,�
� I say as I start to eat.

  ‘What if they called your parents?’ Avantika asks Tiya.

  ‘Chuck it now,’ Shrey says.

  ‘I would be screwed,’ Tiya says. ‘But I don’t like them anyway.’

  ‘They are your parents,’ Avantika preaches.

  Avantika has always been a very family person. Well, at least she has wanted to be. That’s why my mom, sisters and everybody—they all love her. But my family is her only family apart from her real brother. She belongs to a family of rich businessmen and she was always treated like a piece of furniture. Her parents wanted to get her married off as soon as she graduated but she ran away. She never liked her parents either, so she feels bad for anyone without a family. So when Tiya shows apathy towards her own parents, Avantika is visibly disturbed.

  ‘So what? They treat me like shit. They never let me do anything,’ she says. ‘And they keep fighting all the time.’

  ‘So what? There are problems in every family’ Avantika says.

  ‘I can’t take it. Can we talk about something else, please?’

  ‘You’re going to regret it.’

  ‘I’m young. I’m allowed to make mistakes,’ she says and smiles at Avantika.

  ‘There are some mistakes you can’t undo.’

  ‘Whatever.’

  We get back to the food. Tiya and Avantika have been at loggerheads ever since they first met. They are like the same poles of a magnet. So similar that they continue to repel each other. Avantika will not stop acting like her mom and from how things have gone till now, Tiya will not stop screwing up. But everything aside, it’s a little amusing too.

  We finish our food, pay the bill and head back to our vehicles for the last part of our drive. I throw the keys towards Avantika because it’s her turn to drive. She looks at the keys for a while and throws them to Shrey. Shrey looks strangely at her.

  ‘But—’

  Before Shrey can say anything, Avantika takes the bike keys from his hand and sits on the motorcycle. She takes the cute yellow helmet and puts it on. She puts the key into ignition, turns it and kicks the pedal hard. The beast comes roaring to life. A gear shift and the bike starts moving. Our eyes pop out as she takes to the road with fierce acceleration. We look at each other and run to the car. Shrey puts the car in motion and we start following the bike as it whizzes through the traffic. Shrey and Tiya throw questions at me with their eyes.

  ‘What? I didn’t know she could ride a bike,’ I say, equally puzzled.

  We start to follow her, but she is moving too fast. Fifteen minutes, a few trucks and cycles on the road slow her down and we catch up with her.

  I shout at her, ‘Since when?’

  ‘FOREVER,’ she shouts back.

  I ask her to stop and she does. I get down from the car and jump on to the bike. We start moving again. It’s a little sissy to be pillion-riding a girl, but when the girl is immensely sexy, it doesn’t matter. I get to hold her close, my chest touching against her every time she brakes, and say dirty things in her ears. I look at her in that cute yellow helmet, the aviator shades, the denim hot pants, and the black tank top and I am mesmerized. Her hair blows in the wind and smells heavenly. I hold her from behind and plant a kiss on her neck, with a lot of tongue in it.

  ‘I didn’t know you could drive,’ I say.

  ‘Neither did I. I used to drive long back. Just wanted to see if I could still do it.’

  ‘Seems like you can.’

  The entire ride is awesome. I pull back from letting my hands wander all over her satin-smooth body and from biting into her neck. I do it from time to time, but then her driving goes all awry.

  It’s nearly lunchtime by the time we reach the quiet and dusty city of Gandhinagar. We follow the usual routine—find the cheapest hotel and check in. We are dead tired. Thankfully, Shrey and Tiya check into a different room and Avantika doesn’t kick up a fuss.

  I flop on the bed and Avantika goes for her shower, smears moisturizer over her already creamy legs and snuggles up next to me. We are both tired and hungry. No matter how sexy it is to ride a bike, it’s always back-breaking. I run my fingers over her perfectly arched and smooth back and she purrs lovingly. She asks me to keep doing that and I happily submit. It’s amazing how she drove today. It was as though she has always been driving a bike that heavy.

  ‘Why did you do it?’ I ask her.

  ‘Do what?’

  ‘You know, Avantika. Drive the bike. To stamp superiority over Tiya?’

  ‘Yes,’ she says.

  ‘But we know you’re better, hotter and everything else she can never be.’

  ‘Aww! Thanks, baby But it’s not about that. That girl is a kid. She needs to know what’s right and what’s not. You can have fun and do crazy things, but you don’t have to be stupid. And she is being stupid.’

  ‘Is that it?’ I ask.

  ‘And I think I’m just a little jealous too, Deb.’

  ‘Jealous? Why?’

  ‘She just doesn’t give a damn! She can just go about doing silly things and it doesn’t make a difference to her. We can no longer do that, can we?’ she says.

  ‘Are you crazy? We can’t? Did you not drive a bike across the most difficult and busy roads ever? Not even she can do that. You’re the best. She can never come near you.’

  ‘This is why I love you so much!’ Avantika says and hugs me tight.

  ‘Not even close to how much I love you, though.’

  4 December 2010

  ‘When you see the person you love move away from you, what do you do? Do you panic? Or do you keep loving and hope that things will be just like they were before?’

  My heart sank when our train reached the railway station in Bangalore in the evening that day. Nigel had come to pick us up. I looked away when I saw them hug. He took us to our accommodation, which is in the same building where Nigel lives with his parents. Ragini and I are staying in two different rooms on the same floor. We met Nigel’s parents for a bit too. Sweet people. After that, I excused myself to my room, saying I was tired. It had begun to look like I was hindering their privacy, so I took their leave.

  I came to my room and unpacked. The image of them hugging was still in my head. I was having a few doubts about the kind of person Nigel is, but I thought I should let it go. Who am I to say anything, right? He has not done anything wrong anyway and has been a perfect boyfriend. And the look on his face when he saw Ragini was reassuring. He seems equally in love with her. Who would not be? But I felt something was wrong. Maybe it was all in my head.

  I did not hear from Ragini the rest of the day. I had felt like going to her room several times and I did that a few times too, but every time I came back without knocking. I did not want to be an unwanted interference. I didn’t even know if she was there. Maybe she had slept off. I sent her a text message wishing her a good night. She didn’t reply. These two months are going to be the hardest, I told myself. I couldn’t sleep that entire night.

  Today is my fourth day in Bangalore. And apart from the initial neglect I faced on the first day, right after we had arrived, she has been sweet to me all through. The first two days of our internship have passed by without anything interesting happening. I think that is how things will be here. It is really dull and boring. But I guess I am the only person getting bored. Ragini has a smile plastered across her face through the whole day. I like her like this. Just that I do not get to see her much. She is either working or with him. Every second of her free time is accounted for. All for Nigel. I saw him in the office today. Before I could do or say anything, I saw him make his way to where Ragini was. He whispered something in her ear and I saw her turn a little pink. She looked immeasurably adorable. They left soon after that. I did not need to ask where they were going. I did not even want to know. I was happy with the short, semi-formal wave Ragini gave me before she walked out of the office doors. She looks so hopelessly in love with him. Nigel is an extremely lucky guy. I hope she spends more time in office
tomorrow.

  I wish I could see her tomorrow

  8 December 2010

  ‘As the days pass by and I see myself getting engulfed in loneliness, my mind wanders off to the days when I used to see her and that used to be my biggest pleasure. I want more now. I am spoilt.’

  I have not seen her in the last two days. I do not know whether she misses me. She is probably busy being in love. I miss her. I miss her smiles, her chirping, her eyes … I miss everything about her. But I know she has other better things to do than to spend time with me. She has come here for a reason. And that reason is Nigel. It’s only fair that she gives him proper attention. I do not have the right to complain.

  Two days ago, I had seen her in office, tense and worried, and she was walking around in circles. Once again, I committed the mistake of asking her what’s wrong. She told me she wanted to go out with Nigel. He had something planned for her … a secret … or maybe she just did not want to tell me. Anyway, that’s not the point I am trying to make here. She had wanted to go out with him, but our supervisor had assigned us a lot of work. It would have taken her a full day to complete it. She did not have a full day to waste. Nigel’s surprise was waiting for her.

  She had looked at me with her big, puppy eyes and my heart melted immediately. And that’s where I had come in—her foolish knight in shining armour—and offered to help her with her work so that she could leave early. But she was still having a lot of trouble. She did not know anything about what needed to be done. It was obvious since she hadn’t been paying attention in the orientation classes in which we were trained. I asked her to leave and told her I could handle it alone. And she left, but not before asking me to explain everything to her when she got back. She must have been feeling guilty about neglecting the internship so badly. I hope she had noticed that I was being neglected as well.

  Two days and she hasn’t yet returned from her date. It is midnight now. I think I should sleep. I do not need to worry about her. She is with Nigel. He would take care of her. Anyway I had texted her and she had texted back saying that everything was perfect. Perfect. I should stop being the pestering friend who worries too much about everything. But I can’t help it. I hope she is all right.