Now That You're Rich: Let's fall in Love!

by Datta, Durjoy

  She got him two new pairs of jeans, some T-shirts and rimless spectacles and he looked great in them. She stood next to him, clutching his arm as he stood in front of the mirror, wearing a red T-shirt with an illegible graphic on it, a clinging pair of jeans, brand-new sneakers and a new pair of spectacles. He was unrecognizable. Riya kept pulling his jeans down, every time he tried to pull it up to his navel.

  He admitted that it was the best he had ever looked.

  There was not a time in the day when he wasn’t thinking about her. Her face never left his eyes, her voice, his ears. He spent hours sitting and staring at blank walls, running their conversations through his head and recounting times they had spent together. He read her texts over and over again, he saw the grainy pictures they took together on their cell phones, and wondered if he could go back to that time.

  He had lost consciousness of time and space and was with her, every moment, every second of the day. He’d never felt this good in all his short, studious life. He felt nice about himself, he felt loved. Her face was the most beautiful thing in the world for him. Those eyes, those lips, that smile.

  Months passed and they became the thickest of friends. Abhijeet was the first person who was told everything: screwed class tests, a bitching friend, new shoes at Puma, stringy tops at Kazo, unfair parents, horrible guys in Delhi transport buses. Everything.

  First love is always tricky. It promises a lot, but more often than not, it is just a practice ground for subsequent relationships. To Abhijeet, it did a world of good, for he changed from a raging nerd to a cute guy-next-door in a matter of days. Cool tees, chappals, random accessories et al. His oiled hair now got a rough grunge cut, falling over his eyebrows. And finally, his tongue didn’t end up in knots while talking to a girl. He was a different guy now, but what had not changed was his love for her.

  As more time passed, Abhijeet had no doubt in his mind that she was as much in love with him as he was with her and we can’t blame him for that. He was too stupid to see anything, too stupid to see Riya walking away from him whenever her phone beeped, too stupid to see her smiling stupidly when she received a text. Riya never felt the need to tell him about Arjun. Girls usually never do and tend to miss out on details that matter most to the guys around them. Guys are expected to understand, but they, too, never do.

  What are you doing tonight? Does she mean she wants to have sex with me? Do you live alone? Does she mean she wants to come over? Do you have a girlfriend? Does she mean she wants to be mine? What girls mean by these sentences, no one has the slightest idea.

  However, Abhijeet was in for a rude shock that day at the choreography competition in which Riya was participating. She had handed over her cell phone to Abhijeet just before she went backstage to change for her performance. After a while, the cell phone started ringing.

  Sweetheart calling …

  Abhijeet’s mind went blank for a few seconds. He dismissed it, thinking it must be a female friend of hers. The call was not answered. And then six more calls went unanswered.

  Abhijeet, with trembling hands, looked at the number and it looked familiar. He noticed that only the last digit was different from Riya’s. He had heard of many couples who buy those numbers because of cheap calling rates, end up talking throughout the night, get bored, fight, and eventually break up. Ideally, couples should get the most expensive calling plan and keep the mystery alive … let a year pass by before you know your girl has a dog.

  He checked the inbox, as Riya came on stage wearing glittery clothes.

  Every second text in her inbox was from the same number.

  Hi. Where are you? Miss you. See you soon.

  Best of luck, sweetheart. Might get a little late. Sorry. Love. Muah.

  I love you. You are the best thing that ever happened to me. Lots of slurpies. Muah.

  Abhijeet looked at her dancing and noticed a distant, indifferent look in her eyes. He re-read the messages and checked the call details. It was obvious who Sweetheart was, and he was crushed. He resisted the urge to throw the phone away. He clenched his fists and hoped he had not checked her phone. Abhijeet looked for somebody from her batch and handed over her things to him, and tried to fight the tears.

  He wanted to leave that very moment but waited till the end of her performance.

  He waited till she came back from the changing room, her eyes still laced with mascara and glitter, and she was still looking for somebody. The very next second, a smart, nice-looking guy appeared and hugged her. The embrace was more than just a friendly hug, and the tears he’d tried to hold back, rolled down Abhijeet’s cheeks.

  Abhijeet spent the next two hours walking around aimlessly on the streets of Delhi University, wishing things were different, wishing he had not checked her phone, wishing he had never met her. He checked the call timings of every single call and read every single message. He read the tissue paper she had once given him after writing something on it, and threw it away. Only to pick it up again, uncrumple it and keep it safe. He could still see her smiling right in front of him. He realized he had not asked her to love him. It wasn’t her fault, but it wasn’t his fault either. He wiped his tears and slowly walked back home. Smiling, as he saw her smiling. Right in front of him.

  He texted her: Your performance was great.

  After a few days of staying out of Riya’s sight, she caught hold of him while he was entering the class.

  ‘Abhijeet?’ she called out.

  He looked back to see her running towards him. He had been dying to see her.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Can we talk? Unless you have something to do? Please, I have something to tell you. And why did you leave that day? Can we go to the Café Coffee Day? It has this new fat-free coffee and it is fabulous and we just have to go …’

  ‘I have a class to attend and I don’t want to miss it.’

  ‘But you can miss the class! I have so much to talk to you about.’

  ‘No, I can’t miss the class.’

  Abhijeet snubbed her and entered the classroom.

  After a few minutes of macroeconomics, he walked out of the class and ran in the direction Riya had gone. She was sitting on the pavement, polishing her nails, but the glint in her eyes was missing.

  ‘Hey.’

  ‘So, you decided to miss the class?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘You can attend it if you want to, but the coffee is real nice. Let my nails dry out first. This is a new one, my mom’s friend got it from the States and it’s teak pink. Really nice, no?’

  ‘You wanted to talk about something,’ Abhijeet said irritably.

  ‘Yes, are you pissed at me? You don’t pick up my calls and don’t even reply to my messages. And you went that day without even meeting me. I should be the one pissed at you.’

  ‘Is this what you wanted to talk about?’ he asked. His heart was aching to say that he loved her, and he felt cheated that she was in love with somebody else.

  ‘No, it’s about something else. Actually, it’s about Arjun. That guy, uff, doesn’t even know how to eat with a fork and he makes me wait for so long! And that day, he wore a green checked shirt and that, too, in front of my friends. I mean who wears that? I mean, he is so tacky and acts like he is the coolest guy ever …’

  ‘What is your point, Riya?’

  ‘He stood me up again.’

  ‘That can happen sometimes,’ he said, wondering why, why after all this while did she finally decide to mention Arjun in front of him. He had heard the name before from her, but he was never talked about as a boyfriend.

  ‘Are you kidding me? I was there standing in the heat for two hours. I was out of sunscreen and he didn’t come. What’s worse, his phone was switched off.’ Riya stopped talking. She had tears in her eyes.

  ‘What happened?’ Abhijeet said, now paying attention.

  ‘It is just that I think he doesn’t love me any more. It has been so long since he got me something nice, and we don’t meet that ofte
n any more. I mean, I cancelled my shopping date for a date with him and he simply doesn’t care. He just cares about his friends and takes me for granted. And that friend of his, the one whom I told you about, arey, the girl who wears tacky platform heels …’ The tears had started peeking out. ‘I love him, Abhijeet, and I don’t know what is happening to him.’

  ‘Everything will be fine,’ Abhijeet said half-heartedly.

  ‘I hope so. And I hope he stops wearing those cargos he bought like a year ago.’ The tears were still trickling down.

  Just as Abhijeet was about to put his hand on her head, he saw the familiar face walking in their direction, the face from the choreography competition.

  ‘I think your boyfriend is coming.’

  She looked up and immediately started wiping away her tears. She took out a handkerchief and rubbed it all across her face, trying to remove all traces of the weeping bout.

  ‘Do I look okay?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Are my eyes red?’

  ‘A little bit.’

  ‘Does it look like I was crying?’

  ‘Not really.’

  ‘The mascara?’

  ‘Looks fine.’

  ‘The cheeks?’

  ‘Pink.’

  ‘We are …’

  ‘Best friends,’ Abhijeet said. Riya had taught him this.

  Abhijeet watched them leave, with Arjun trying to put an arm across to pull her close.

  Abhijeet suddenly remembered every time Riya had mentioned Arjun’s name in front of him. Arjun used to drop her to college sometimes. He had a big car, Honda or something. Not that he was very good-looking, but everything he wore was expensive. Somewhere deep inside, he felt he wasn’t worthy of Riya. He wasn’t as swanky or rich as Arjun was. It had started pinching him. Arjun’s affluence only made him feel worse about his modest background; being middle class was his curse.

  Arjun’s behaviour towards Riya had been deteriorating by the day and she had been living in denial. Double denial. She knew she was being wronged. And she knew she was refusing to see it.

  Riya’s complaints about him had gone beyond mere missed dates, bad shoes and crumpled shirts. They had real problems now. Arjun had changed his relationship status to single on Facebook and was entertaining random girls. One question asked and Riya was shouted at for being nagging. It happened every day and Abhijeet often found her in tears.

  His closeness to Riya had been double-edged for Abhijeet. For every time she said she had never had a friend like him, he felt privileged. Every time he chose a nail polish for her, he felt important. Every time he was the first person to see the new streaks in her hair, he felt complete. However, seeing her so madly in love with someone else, killed him. He wished her perfectly manicured hands were in his, not Arjun’s.

  Riya had noticed the change in Abhijeet’s behaviour but she chose to ignore it. Crushes and first loves are hard to deal with.

  ‘Will you please stop crying?’ Abhijeet said for the seventh time that evening. Arjun was still being a jerk and it was taking a toll on Riya. Riya’s condition had gone from bad to worse. She had started talking less.

  That day was the first time he had seen her without her eye make-up. Not that she looked any less cute.

  ‘Sorry.’

  ‘You don’t have to be.’

  It was the same story every time. Arjun did something that she didn’t think was right and she spent time crying over it in front of Abhijeet till the time she ran out of tears and simply forgot what she was crying about.

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘I want to know. I can’t see you like this. So quiet. You haven’t even shopped for a week now. No new shoes. No bangles. Even your earrings don’t match your shoes today and that’s a problem!’

  ‘Really?’ She checked out her shoes and smiled behind those tears. ‘Of course, they match! You are so mean.’

  ‘So, now tell me what happened? You know you’re going to tell me eventually.’

  ‘He says I am boring.’

  ‘As in?’

  ‘As in, physically.’ She kept crying. ‘He is asking me to give in … Sleep with him …’

  ‘Is he insane? What the …! How can he ask you to do that?’

  ‘He says every friend of his is doing it and he expects me …’

  ‘What did you do?’

  ‘I can’t, but I love him and despite everything, he is sweet …’

  ‘So what will you do?’

  ‘I don’t know. Maybe he is right. Even Kritika has done it with her boyfriend. So … but …’

  ‘So?’

  Every word of hers hit him like a boulder thrown right at his face. He knew in all probability that Riya would become physically involved with Arjun, but hearing it from her mouth made him burst into a million pieces inside, and that she would do it because he wanted it, filled him with unbridled rage. His eyes welled up and he looked away before she could notice them.

  ‘Leave him,’ he said and wiped his tears off.

  ‘I can’t.’

  ‘What do you mean you can’t? Of course you can! You are cute and smart and you can get any guy you want!’

  ‘I can’t, I love him, I love him so much. Just last week, he got me this real cute teddy bear key chain, said the sweetest things, and then we even went to that place. Oh no, that was you! Sorry, but I love him and I always will.’

  ‘You call this love? Haan? You call this love? He is bloody abusing you. Can’t you see that?’ Abhijeet’s voice started to rise and the tears returned to his eyes. He banged his fist on the table and started to breathe heavily.

  ‘But …’

  ‘What but! That bastard! All he wants is to fuck you. Are you really this blind?’ He stood up and started moving around in circles, coming close to her and shouting at her. He wanted to grab her by the shoulders, shake her and wake her up.

  ‘Abhijeet! Mind your language! He is my boyfriend and it’s none of your business!’

  ‘Mind your own business? What the hell? You know what my business is? I will show you what my business is, no, wait, I will show you what my business is.’ He rummaged through his bag, throwing half of his things around, and took out three neatly done assignments.

  ‘This is my business. This is economics.’ He threw it in her lap. ‘Microeconomics. And law. Last date tomorrow. You don’t even know when these were given. Who did this? I did. It took me all night. I did it. Not that bastard. I love you. I am the one who has been in love with you for the last six months. Not him. I am the one who is listening to you and seeing you cry every day. Not him. And what do you do?’ He threw his hands in the air. ‘You’re considering sleeping with him. Perfect.’

  ‘Abhijeet! One word and I will slap you.’

  ‘What one word? Go say that to him. Why? What happened? You can say anything to me, but not to him. He is the one who’s making you cry. He is the one who treats you like shit. He goes out with other girls and you don’t say a thing to him. He doesn’t love you, I do. He doesn’t …’

  ‘Enough. I am leaving,’ she said, as she gathered her bag, wiped her tears off and turned to leave.

  ‘Yes, go, go to him, sleep with that rich fancy bastard with the big car. I don’t care about you. Go away, go sleep with the whole college, I don’t care! I don’t know how you came here. Did some rich guy pay for a management seat here? I hope you fail your exams and I know you will, anyway!’

  ‘What?’ She turned back. ‘Abhijeet, just because you have some big placement doesn’t mean we all are worthless. And what are you? You were nothing when I met you! You were nothing but a bookworm and a nerd! I made you what you are … I did or otherwise you would have been still roaming around the college alone, eating Maggi with your head buried in your books.’

  ‘At least I am not a gold-digger and a slut!’

  ‘What?’ At this, she hit him with her handbag repeatedly, while breaking into tears and howling at the same time. />
  Abhijeet stood there, realizing what he had just done and slumped on the pavement with tears in his eyes, as Riya walked away from him.

  Crushes on friends are always disastrous, and so was this one.

  After that incident, Abhijeet just wanted to get through the remaining few days left in college as quickly as possible. He tried to date a few girls in between, but it never worked out. He was surprised to see how comfortable he had got around the opposite sex.

  Days were long and laborious as he waited for a time when he, too, would be rich, and would dictate terms in a relationship.

  Silverman Finance meant new opportunities for Abhijeet. But for Shruti, it meant a new life, away from her previous one. It pains me to think of the life Shruti led before Silverman happened to her. So, before my eyes well up and bring out the tissues, let us go to that moment in time when she had another sad day in another sad month in another sad year of her sad life.

  2

  She wiped the sweat from her brow. Jagjit’s face flashed before her eyes as she entered the room. Her hair was neatly tied in a ponytail behind her neck and she had chosen a crisp white shirt and slim trousers for that day. With her naturally pouted lips, gorgeous legs, the five-inch stilletoes, the razor-sharp features, the high jawline, and a stomach so flat that it would put a road-roller to shame, Shruti could easily have been mistaken for an exotic Indian model on a rampway.

  She was nothing like her parents, both fat and ugly-looking. Except maybe her complexion and she would thank them for it. The thought of dark chocolate, sweet-smelling skin still makes my hair stand on end. Shruti used to be one of the most sought-after girls in college; her body-hugging cotton fitted shirts and the knee-length skirts were the talking point for many discussions in and around college. Nobody could fathom how she fell for Sachin, the college’s stationery shopkeeper’s son.

  ‘Good morning, Shruti.’

  ‘Good morning,’ her voice cracked.

  ‘You want to drink something before we start?’ She nodded, picked up the glass and emptied it. ‘Why finance, Shruti?’