I had just broken free of Vicky’s clutches. My freedom was so new even then that I would wake up in the middle of the night in dread, thinking that Vicky was back in my life somehow. I knew my parents wouldn’t understand my reasons to terminate the pregnancy. After my job started, I knew they felt an emptiness in their lives. They would have jumped at the opportunity of being grandparents. Like Daksh, they would have promised to do everything to relieve me of the pressure of raising a child.
But I couldn’t have done that to myself.
Why would I rob myself of time, a successful career, romance, a married life before a child? Vanita—with her own rules and ideas about family—would have tried to convince me otherwise. And since I love her to death, I would have listened.
Rajat came along without a question. He took charge and immediately booked a hotel room for the foetus tissue to pass, and to recover from the bleeding, filled the room with snacks and made a list of shows we could watch. That day is the actual anniversary of our friendship. He—and I—both believe that was the day we saw each other as friends for life. It was forged through tears, loss and new beginnings.
‘My own life-changing decisions are enough, bro,’ he complains. ‘Nandini has been fucking dancing on my head asking me to take the next step and that’s kind of enough for me.’
‘Okay.’ I take a deep breath. ‘Why aren’t you getting married to her?’
‘She thinks I still have feelings for you.’
‘Which you don’t.’
‘I’d rather be suspended from the ceiling by my pubic hair. My parents are going to create a big scene if I tell them about Nandini. They will feel intimidated by her parents. Anyway . . .’
‘You’re dying to tell me what to do.’
‘Run the opposite way, bro,’ he says with a finality in his voice. ‘It’s just the rush of a new place. All of your relationship with him has been that—the Andamans, Mumbai and now this. You think you’re a new person in a new place and you want to take all these risks. Real life is not a vacation. And you also know he’s too good for you.’
‘Good to know my friend is on his side.’
‘He’s good in a way guys are supposed to be good—family, love, romance and all of that. You’re not like that. You’re good in a way where you protect your own happiness.’
I take a deep breath. ‘So, I should just ignore this little whisper in my heart.’
‘Snuff it out. Murder it.’
I close my eyes and imagine what my life would look like in the US. My second international flight, my new home in a new city, so many new things to see, enjoy, worry about, get intimidated by. With the glut of emotions I am going to feel, this little flutter in my heart will be dead before I know it.
‘Done,’ I say, ‘and you should tell your parents. They love you too much to not agree.’
We disconnect the call. The flutter is no longer merely that. It’s a drum beat that’s getting louder with every passing second.
13.
Daksh Dey
It takes me the better part of an hour to send Gaurav away for the wedding. The unslept, tired nurses are thankful the last person from the wedding party is out of their hair and not telling them how to do their job. The head nurse connects the Wi-fi on my iPad and I click on the Zoom link shared by Gaurav for the wedding.
‘Whose wedding is it?’ asks the nurse as she peers into the iPad. ‘The tall girl in the lehenga, right? She’s beautiful, by the way.’
I nod.
The nurse laughs and then hooks a new IV drip into my cannula. ‘If they are coming, tell them to come here with some sweets, okay?’
There’s finally some movement on the Zoom screen. The first few guests reach the mandap and start to appraise the decor, nodding, appreciating the niceness of it all. Then, Aditya’s friends stumble in drunk and high, their eyes searching for snacks. They take pictures, throwing peace signs in the air, leaving the elderly onlookers perplexed.
I miss being there.
A few minutes later, the pandit appears on the scene and starts to arrange all the sweets andsamagrineeded to get Vanita married to Aditya. Aditya’s a nice guy, I noticed that. There are some people whom you see and then think, yeah, these guys fit in like a glove. That’s the vibe I get from Vanita and Aditya.
Quite the opposite of what I felt during the brief time I got to date Aanchal. From the moment we exited that washroom on the mezzanine floor, I knew my heart, my soul, everything I was given by God was no longer mine. On the way to the airport, after she rejected me once, I tried to make her understand the depth of my feelings for her. I recounted every flutter of my heart, every lost breath, every gasp I’d felt over the years. She told me later that my confession had scared her because I looked ‘too sincere’. How can you be insincere about love? Love is the realest thing there is.
When she stepped out of the taxi, she was ready to giveusa shot.
I missed her from the moment she disappeared for the security check at the airport. I wanted to Hulk-out, tear the airport apart, keep her from going away from me, breathe in the same air as hers. When her flight took off, I felt an unbearable physical pain shooting through my body. We had promised we would meet again, but it still broke my heart. Delhi didn’t seem like a two-hour flight away. Instead, it seemed like centuries and alternate realities separated us. In the forty-three days we were together, I was in a haze of inexplicable joy. When I talked to her, it felt as if I was talking not only to the love of my life but also my therapist, my best friend, a little adorable puppy, an old, wise person, a giggling baby, all mashed up. When we made love or, as she liked to say it, when we fucked, the world seemed to disintegrate and splinter, like we were the singularity from which new worlds are created. Her naked body was my favourite thing in the world. She told me it was mine to take.
