‘Raghu, I—’
‘What?’
‘That’s why I’m calling you. She asked me to tell you to not talk to her. She told me she’s sorry about what’s happened but she can’t talk to you any more.’
‘She said that?’
‘Yes and neither can I or Rishab. Both of us can’t get stuck between the two of you and so I chose her. So did Rishab.’
‘Why exactly would it matter to me who Rishab chooses?’ I asked.
‘We were a group.’
‘WE WERE NOT A GROUP! Brahmi and I were friends and you two just butted in. So yes, I don’t care what you choose to do. DO YOU GET THAT?’ I said and I must have regretted saying it but I don’t remember it now.
‘Glad to know what you think of us.’
I slammed the phone down and gaped at the gall of Richa Mittal, that mute girl who suddenly found in her a wickedness till now unknown. I strode to the Mittal house; they didn’t open their door.
When I asked Arundhati, she said, ‘Richa told me you were best friends with her. I didn’t see any reason to hide it. Why? Something happened?’
I shook my head and came back home.
I took my journal and went to the roof of Ashiana Apartments. I was writing and I was looking down. No, I was not going to do it and I know that and I knew it when I was leaving the house to come here. Despite everything that has happened in the last few weeks, I am the farthest I have ever been to doing anything stupid. I feel I’m tethered to Brahmi like a stupid lovelorn goat. I can go round and round her, close or far, but I can’t disentangle myself from her. I want to see her again, talk to her, know her stories if she would tell me, and just be around her. So in true goat fashion, I left Ashiana Apartments for Brahmi’s place. Had it been a movie, I would have barged in, given a credible explanation for how I found her address, and then got on my knee and told her that she meant quite a bit to me. But since it’s not, I hovered around awkwardly, came back home and got an earful from Maa, who gave me the staple ‘Is-this-house-a-guest-house-for-you!’ line.
20 July 1999
For the first two periods, I sat alone in class.
Brahmi had changed her seat and sat with Shrikant Gupta, a dour-faced, unimpressive fellow, in another row. Sahil and Rishab were sitting on the seat behind her. Conciliatory smiles were exchanged. I might be in the wrong but that did nothing to blanch the fury that ran through my veins like molten lava. The sadness of my love story ending before it had even started was manifesting itself in anger.
During the lunch break, Rishab and Sahil, who talked to and laughed with Brahmi, were at the basketball court playing football with a Cosco cricket ball. I followed them and volunteered for the opposite team. Brahmi watched from the sidelines, frowning, hurt flowing in abundance from her eyes. The match started and an inhuman strength grew within me, it churned in my stomach and flew through my limbs, and I ran and shoved and bumped and kicked and jumped like a Russian soldier on steroids. Gasps surrounded me as half a dozen players suffered injuries and humiliation, including Rishab and Sahil. None of the boys cowed down to my domination because like Brahmi there were other girls watching the proceedings. The only plausible reason for my behaviour was some ancient genes controlling mating practices among gorillas kicking into action within me—beat your fellow mates to get the girl.
Five minutes from the lunch-break bell, the other team took me out in a well-planned and perfectly executed manoeuvre. A shove and a trip, a sharp nudge and a punch, and I was on the ground, bleeding from my mouth and my head. Two of the boys from my team took me to the medical room, ignoring my protests. I walked past my three ex-friends, head held high, lips pursed, blood dripping from my head.
Later I was told that my team, short by three boys, lost by two goals.
The rebukes from the medical teacher and the spilt blood drained the anger from me. I was mended and bandaged and was free to go. The painkiller made my brain swim, my limbs numb and my tongue loose. Floating in my head and stumbling through reality, I left the medical room.
Outside, Sahil, Rishab and Brahmi were waiting for me. Brahmi dismissed Rishab and Sahil like lowly courtiers.
They nodded at me and left. Brahmi patted the concrete stairs she was sitting on. I went over and sat next to her.
‘That was a stupid stunt,’ she said.
‘It seemed like a fun game to me.’
‘You didn’t have to lie to me. Why did you?’
Lup-dup. My little frog heart beat again. Lup-dup. A little blip on the heart monitor. I wouldn’t have said what I did but I had no control over my tongue. The chemicals from the painkiller gave me an unforeseen courage to accept the consequences of what I was about to say.
‘I didn’t know Sahil well. I had heard frightening things about him and when the two of you started getting close I was terrified. I have grown to be possessive of you even though I have no business to. It was a misstep trying to control what you feel. I felt helpless and angry. There was nothing between Arundhati and me, or for that matter anyone else. You’re the first girl I have grown to like.’ I said without stopping for breath.
‘You should have told me that.’
I stared at my fingers which could have been any number from ten to fourteen, too scared to look up.
‘But don’t worry, I won’t talk to you from now on. I’m sorry for what I did on the field today. I wanted to hurt Sahil and Rishab,’ I said.
