by Durjoy Datta
Could you not have picked a less noisy place?’
‘I am asking you to take this seriously. I’m talking about your friend here,’ she said.
‘I thought we are talking about your boyfriend. Why the fuck would I care about him after what he did?’
‘Look Sumit, whatever happened has happened. Let’s put that behind us. You have got to believe me—’
‘I see your face and I just keep remembering the night you came on a date with me.’
‘Listen, let’s get past all that. This is about Daman. We need to save him,’ protested Shreyasi and slammed the table hard.
‘I’m going to order an American chop suey, you?’
Sumit waved down the waiter. He placed his order and asked Shreyasi again. When Shreyasi didn’t say anything, he told the waiter that it would be all.
‘Are you not believing me?’
‘Why should I believe anything you say, Shreyasi?’
‘HE’S REALLY GOING TO DO IT,’ yelled Shreyasi.
‘I follow him on Twitter. He seems fine.’
‘You think it’s a joke?’
‘Yes. Should I think any different? And what is this? Some other game that you’re playing?
Please stop this nonsense. Avni and I are very happy together, so don’t even try and spoil it for us, okay?’ warned Sumit.
‘HE IS SERIOUS ABOUT IT!’
‘Blah. Blah. Blah.’
‘Listen to me, Sumit. He’s writing a book where both Daman and Shreyasi die in the end. He wants his real life to mimic his life in the books. He’s obsessed about death,’ she explained and showed Sumit the mails Daman had sent her.
‘Writers, I tell you. They are funny. But I’m pretty sure he’s not going to do anything like what you’re suggesting,’ he said.
‘HE IS!’ protested Shreyasi.
‘You shout one more time and I’m out of here. Oh, the food is here. Do you want some?’ he asked.
‘No, thank you,’ said Shreyasi and got up. ‘Your girlfriend has agreed to it.’
‘Girlfriend? Who agreed to what? Will you start making sense today or should we meet tomorrow? I think you should share some with me,’ he said pointing to the bowl. ‘A little food might make you think clearer.’
‘Avni, your girlfriend, has agreed to sit in the car with him. Daman has offered to put her name in the book instead of mine,’ said Shreyasi.
Sumit laughed. ‘Avni? Oh, please! Avni is out of it. And she is too practical to do any such thing.
Not in a million years. She loves me. She has had enough of that asshole.’
‘Daman told me—’
‘Daman is playing with you. Maybe he’s just testing you. Maybe he wants to see how much you love him and you’re failing miserably if he asked Avni.’
‘IT IS NOT A TEST,’ grumbled Shreyasi.
‘If it’s not then I’m sure Avni is playing with him. She is probably getting back at you two for what you did to her. And if she is, as a loyal boyfriend, I would like to add my two-pence worth—
FUCK YOU.’
‘But why on earth would she even agree to it? She doesn’t know how delirious Daman has become.’
‘Are you sure you won’t share this with me?’ asked Sumit and dug into his food.
Shreyasi got up and stormed off.
50
Shreyasi had been waiting in the lobby of the Barclays office for over two hours now. The receptionist had called Avni thrice and every time she had said she would be there in fifteen. She’s doing it intentionally, Shreyasi thought. Avni wouldn’t have dared to make her wait had she still had the video Daman deleted. Or if she had a backup. But backups were against Shreyasi’s cardinal rule. The more machines your data is on the more susceptible you yourself become. After another half an hour, Avni appeared in her sharp business suit, smiling as she saw Shreyasi.
‘Hi. I’m so sorry. I was just stuck in a meeting. Have you been waiting long?’
‘Let’s not pretend to be polite.’
‘I must say it was fun to see you walk around like a headless chicken on the CCTV. So what is it you want to talk about?’
‘We need to tell Daman’s parents. We need to stop him. He’s serious about killing himself,’ said
Shreyasi.
‘You are overreacting.’
‘He’s serious about it.’
‘I have always thought of him as a little unhinged. But he wouldn’t do anything as crazy as this.
It was a test for you, I’m sure. Even if he’s serious you’re the one he’s dating, right? His one true love? Why should I get into any of this? I’m happy with Sumit and away from you,’ mocked Avni.
‘All I’m asking you is to tell his parents about this,’ said Shreyasi.
‘You should do it. I have nothing to do with him or his family any more.’
‘. . .’
Avni laughed. ‘Oh wait. You can’t go there. Who would you say you are? Shreyasi? But
Shreyasi is dead!’
‘Avni—’
‘Did Sumit believe you when you told him that Daman is planning to kill himself?’
‘No, he said what you’re saying. That this is a test.’
Avni smiled.
‘What? Why are you smiling?’ Shreyasi asked.
‘He’s going to do it,’ she said.
Shreyasi frowned. ‘So you do believe he’s going to do what he’s telling me?’
‘Of course, he’s totally going to try it. He will go through with it,’ said Avni.
‘And?
‘And what?’
‘Shouldn’t you be doing something?’ grumbled Shreyasi.
‘I’m doing what I can. I will go in the car with him if you don’t. What more can I do for him?’ asked Avni.
‘Have you lost your mind as well? Go in the car with him? What is wrong with you! You will die! He’s going to crash the car. Why would you do that?’
‘Because I want to fuck you up, Shreyasi,’ Avni said calmly.
‘You will die for revenge?’
‘And you wouldn’t die for love! The love you had been chasing for three years. The one for which you nearly destroyed my life and his, you wouldn’t die for that? That sounds so shallow!’
Shreyasi snarled. ‘So you are going to sit in the car with him? You’re going to die with him? Just to get back at me?’
‘I might be with Sumit but I kind of adore him too.’
‘What part of YOU WILL DIE WITH HIM are you not seeing?’
Avni laughed. ‘Oh, you really don’t see it, do you?’
‘What?
‘I don’t have to die, Shreyasi. All I need to do is sit in the car with him,’ said Avni.
‘What do you mean?’
‘At the last moment, I will panic, I will cry, I will shout, I will ask him to stop, I will tell him I don’t want to die, and I will fall weak at the last moment. He will slam on the brakes. I will tell him I thought I loved him enough to die but . . .’
‘He would hate you,’ snapped Shreyasi.
‘He will love me for trying. He will think that at least I was better than you. At least I sat in the car. Do you know what else will I get out of it? He will have my name in the book. And I wouldn’t have to die for it!’ said Avni brightly.
‘But—’
‘He would know one thing for sure—that I love him more than you do, Shreyasi. Because it was
I who had been ready to die for him. I wonder what he would think of you? A coward? Someone who didn’t even try!’
‘You will not—’
‘I’m sure he wouldn’t love you the same thereafter. Your name won’t be in the book. Everything you wanted will be wrested away from you. That would be fun to watch,’ said Avni.
Shreyasi smiled.
‘Oh, you’re smiling now, are you? Wait? You’re thinking of doing the same now, aren’t you?’ asked Avni.
‘And thank you for that.’ Shreyasi smirked.
‘It wouldn’t work for you,’
said Avni.
‘It would.’
‘I expected you to be more intelligent, Shreyasi,’ remarked Avni. ‘You forget I have already accepted Daman’s proposal. Now, if you decide to sit in the car I’m sure he will pick you instead of me. But if you back out, he will constantly think what if he’d given me a chance instead of you.
He will think he made the wrong choice. It will keep eating him up all the time. You know how he is, right?’
‘But—’
‘He will come to me and ask me again if you refuse now. But it seems slightly unlikely that he would do that after you bail out at the final moment. I am putting my bets on him, realizing his
madness. Even if he doesn’t and comes to me with the preposterous idea, I will refuse him.’
‘And then he will leave you,’ said Shreyasi.
‘Or would he? What if I decide to be angry? What if I tell him that I had agreed to die for him and instead he picked you—a girl who didn’t love him enough! I will tell him I can’t allow him to play with my love again. I will reject him and break his heart. I will ask him to get out of my sight.
I will play the girl with a broken heart. And what do you think he will do then? Be in love with you? Or me? Quite the Catch-22?’
‘. . .’
‘What? Nothing to say?’ Avni smiled. ‘You always wanted to be the girl in the car, right? Now you have your chance.’
51
After Shreyasi agreed to sit in the car, recreate that day, and immortalize their love story, there wasn’t even a discussion on it. It’s happening.
Daman worked day and night and day to finish his book. While he gave the book the final few touches, he submitted the notice for vacating the apartment and returned the furniture he had rented.
He sold most of the things he had in his apartment on Ebay and Quickr and other websites. He started to spend a lot of time at his parents’ house. Every day, Shreyasi thought of telling them about Daman’s plan but then didn’t think there was any way his parents would ever believe her.
Not only that, it would have meant running the risk of driving Daman into Avni’s arms. There was but only one way out, she had decided. She would sit in the car and do what Avni had decided to do. I will beg, I will cry, I will fall weak at the last moment. She had to take her chance. The closer the day came, the more nervous Shreyasi became.
Two months later, Daman finished his book. He cleaned himself up. After weeks, Shreyasi saw
Daman shaved, showered and dressed sharply. He looked handsome.
On the fateful morning, he picked her up. He had come with flowers in a car he had rented for a day. It was the same model of car Daman had driven on to the railing on the day of the accident. A part of her wanted to run away from him, from all this madness, and never look back. I just need to keep my wits about me and stop him at the last moment.
‘I love you,’ he said.
One look at Daman and she melted into a puddle. The warmth in the eyes, the love in his touch, the honesty in his voice reminded her why she had gone against every grain of her nature and fallen in love with him.
‘Today is the first day of the rest of our lives,’ said Daman, his eyes sparkling.
‘I love you, baby.’
‘Are you scared?’
‘No,’ she said.
‘You have always been the brave one. I’m scared though I know it will be lovely,’ he said smiling like a madman.
They first drove to the Bookhound Publishers office and handed over the book after signing the contract. Jayanti loved the book. And though it wasn’t the character she had wanted in the book she didn’t say a thing. She told them the book will get published as is. They had a long late lunch. He had got his favourite books and he read out his favourite portions to Shreyasi till late evening. The last one he read to her was The Myth of Sisyphus by Albert Camus, the book with the lines
—‘There is but one truly serious philosophical problem and that is suicide.’ Every now and then, she would call Sumit to tell him to come over and stop this. But Sumit would brush it away like it was nothing. They left the restaurant at 1 a.m. when it shut down.
‘I’m so happy we are doing this,’ said Daman as he opened the door of the car for her. But even as she stepped inside the car, her body revolted. Daman got in from the other side. He held her hand.
‘You look beautiful.’
She smiled weakly. ‘Daman . . .’
‘I got vodka,’ he said and opened the glove compartment. He took out the little bottle and handed it over to Shreyasi. ‘Open it.’
Daman turned on the ignition. Shreyasi’s heart jumped. He drove on to the main road.
‘Drink,’ he told her.
Shreyasi took a swig but did not offer it to him and he didn’t drink on his own. Shreyasi had to control the situation.
‘I am not drinking,’ said Daman. ‘I need to keep a clear head.’ He smiled at her.
‘Okay.’
‘Tell me about the day we almost died,’ he said.
‘Daman. I was thinking—’
‘Tell me? I want to die with thoughts of us in my mind.’
Shreyasi told him what she knew, what she had seen them doing, right till the point they had got into the car and driven away. Daman listened to her with rapt attention, smiling as he absorbed everything.
‘I wish I could remember all of it,’ said Daman. ‘But thank you, baby, for this love story.’
‘It doesn’t need to end here,’ she said.
‘But it does, you can surely see that, can’t you? This is our peak. This is our moment, Shreyasi.
We will be forever remembered like this.’
‘Daman—’
‘THERE,’ he shouted over the rumble of the engine and pointed at a distance.
Glowing under the street lights was the maze of Noida flyovers, a death trap for motor vehicles.
Shreyasi crept her hand towards the handbrake. She would pull it just as he would try to ram it into the divider and flip the car. But just then, Daman held her hand and clasped it tight. Shreyasi knew she wouldn’t be able to reach the handbrake with her other hand. She knew they would reach the flyover in less than five minutes. She looked at Daman, horror-stricken, but Daman was smiling.
‘It won’t hurt,’ he assured her. ‘We have been through it. It will be quick and painless.
‘But—’
‘We won’t survive this time. In the boot are three open canisters of petrol. It will be over in a matter of seconds. WE WILL GO IN A BLAZING BALL OF FLAME, HAND IN HAND,’ he shouted.
‘Daman—’
‘I LOVE YOU,’ he said and rammed his feet on the pedal.
Shreyasi’s breath stuck in her throat.
‘Daman—’
‘Wouldn’t it be awesome if it all comes back to me just seconds before we hit the divider?’
‘Daman, can you slow—’
‘WOULDN’T IT BE NICE IF I WERE TO SEE YOU NEXT TO ME? REMEMBER IT AS
CLEAR AS DAY?’
The car hit 70 km/hr.
‘Daman, I—’
‘I know it’s hard for you but smile at me like you do in my dreams! Once, look at me. STOP
LOOKING AT THE ROAD, BABY.’
80 km/hr.
‘I—’
Shreyasi tried to wrest her hand free but his grip was tight. His eyes were stuck to hers. He was crying now. He frothed at his mouth.
‘LOOK AT ME AND LAUGH LIKE YOU DID! LAUGH FOR ME, MY LOVE.’
‘Daman, we—’
‘DON’T TALK. JUST TELL ME YOU LOVE ME, OKAY? WE WANT OUR LAST WORDS
TO BE PERFECT, DON’T WE?’
‘Daman, I—’
‘SAY IT! SAY IT LIKE YOU DID THAT DAY,’ he said.
‘Daman! STOP!’
‘Why? We are so close. It will just be like that day,’ he said.
Shreyasi tried to reach out for the handbrake with the other hand but Daman swerved the car and her head hit the window.
&nb
sp; ‘We are doing this,’ he grumbled and pushed at the pedal. ‘I LOVE YOU! THIS IS OUR
DESTINY!’
‘NO!’ shouted Shreyasi.
100 km/hr. The chassis had started to tremble.
‘WHY NOT? DON’T YOU LOVE ME? DON’T YOU REMEMBER? THAT DAY WAS JUST
LIKE TODAY, WASN’T IT?’
He hit the last gear. The car sped on. Shreyasi’s heart jumped. 120 km/hr. Tears came running down Shreyasi’s face.
‘PLEASE! STOP!’
‘WHY?’ screamed Daman.
‘Please, Daman. Let go of me! Stop!’ she screamed.
‘WHY! WHY SHOULD I STOP! WHY THE FUCK SHOULD I STOP!’
‘Please,’ she begged as tears continuously streamed down her face.
Daman gave the engine everything he’d got.
‘WHY!’ bellowed Daman.
He let go of her hand. The car hurtled towards the steep hairpin bend. It was happening.
Shreyasi looked at Daman and then at the divider. She screamed. Daman shouted back.
‘WHY!’
‘BECAUSE I’M NOT THE SHREYASI WHO WAS IN THE CAR,’ she bawled.
Daman hit the brake. A loud screeching sound filled the air. The tyres skid and burnt. The engine groaned. The body of the car rolled and came to a stop, smoke all around them.
‘Get out,’ said Daman quietly, wiping his tears with the back of his sleeve.
‘Daman?’
‘GET THE FUCK OUT, WHORE!’ he shouted and opened the door.
Shreyasi stumbled out of the car. She fell to the ground and dry-heaved. Daman stepped out of the car and stood in front of her. He paced around, a tyre iron in hand. He raised the tyre iron to bring it down on her but checked himself. She saw murder in his eyes. He will kill me. Shreyasi cowered in the corner.
‘YOU KILLED HER. YOU KILLED SHREYASI.’
‘What?’
‘YOU WERE IN THE TAXI THAT CAME FROM THE WRONG WAY. YOU WERE THE
TAXI I HAD TRIED TO AVOID. YOU CAUSED THE ACCIDENT. YOU’RE THE REASON
WHY SHREYASI IS DEAD! YOU’RE THE GIRL WHO WALKED AWAY FROM THE TAXI
BARELY INJURED. YOU ARE THE ONE WHO MADE THE TAXI GUY DRIVE IN THE
