Half Girlfriend (25 page)

calm afterwards too. I am writing this letter to tell you something

important. I am leaving Patna.

I am not well, Madhav. I think you noticed my cough over the past

month. It is not an allergy. Lung carcinoma is what the oncologist

said. Lung cance. I don't know how.You know I don’t smoke. But

sometimes it happens to non-smokers. And I had to be one of them.

I don't know why many things happened in my life, actually, so

maybe this is all part of the crazy plan God has for me. Marriage,

divorce and disease, all within a span of three years,
The funny thing
is, you came into my life at various stages too. Perhaps we were not

meant to he. I must thank you for accepting me as a friend again,

Madhav. I was so lost. I made mistakes. I held so much back from you

and yet you cared for me.
I know you wanted more, but I'm sorry I
was unable to give it to you. The first time, it wasn’t the right time.

The second time, well,
I have no time,
I couldn't have asked for a
better two months than those l
spent in Patna. To be able to help you
prepare for your speech was a wonderful and special time. The best

part was that despite the challenge, you never quit.

I asked you to stay back last night. I had no right to. I just felt

greedy and selfish. I wanted more of your caring, while knowing I

couldn’t give you anything in return.

I know what I mean to you, and if I ask you to care without being

able to reciprocate myself you will. Hence, I decided to go. I won’t

make it harder for you than it needs to be.

I'm not one for details. Suffice to say, I have a little over three

months left. The last month is supposed to be horrible. I will skip the
gory parts. But trust me, you don’t want to know.

You have something meaningful going on in your life. Your school

is beautiful. And if Bill Gates does what I think he will, you will be
able to make it even better. If that happens, I don't want to be here
diverting your attention. I have seen your love. I don’t want to see

your pity. I am a basketball girl. That is how I want to stay in your
mind forever. Your basketball girl,
I shall leave you with your school
and your mother. Meanwhile, in what little time I have, I plan to

travel everywhere I can. In the last month, I will find a corner for

myself in this world where I don’t bother anyone. Then I will go. You
know what? On my last day, I will think of you.

A good thing has come of my decision to leave here. I fed free

enough to tell you everything. I don’t have to hold back or say the

right thing anymore. For instance, it isn’t just you who had a

sleepless night at my place. I never slept either. I thought of how hard
it was going to be to leave you. Funny, I’ve never felt that way about
leaving this world. But leaving you, yes, that is difficult.

So, no crying. No looking for me. No being a Devdas. You are

such a good-looking and caring guy, you'll find a lovely girl.

Someone who isn’t a mess like me. Someone who will love you like you

deserve to be loved,
I can’t wait for tomorrow. You will rock the stage.

I want to end this letter by saying something I wanted to say to at

least someone in this lifetime. So, here goes.

I love you, Madhav Jha. I absolutely, completely love you. And

will do so to my last day.

Bye, Madhav. Take care.

Riya

My eyes welled up. Tears rolled down my cheeks. My limbs felt

weak.

I struggled to stand.The letter fell from my hands. I picked it up

and read it again. Memories of me sitting in Riya’s car came to me.

Images flaihed in my head—her fancy wedding-card box, the glucose

biscuits and her driving off. She had disappeared to get married then.

She had disappeared to die now. In both cases, she had taken, to use a

tough English word, unilateral decisions.

I called her number again. This time it was switched off. Perhaps

she was driving back to Patna and passing through a no-network area.

Or maybe she had thrown away her SIM card.

I went numb, like someone had hit me on the head with a hammer.

Nothing mattered to me. The guests at home, the Gates Foundation

grant, nothing. Riya had lung cancer, and she hadn’t even mentioned

It, How could she do this to me?

‘Patna, go to Patna,’ I told myself. She would go home first,

obviously.

I ran downstairs to the living room. A crowd was gathered there.

‘Congratulations, Madhav bhai.What a speech you gave,’ said the

sarpanch. He spoke Hindi and possibly didn't know a word of English.

‘Hello, sir. I am from Dainik Bhaskar. We would like to profile you

for our Sunday magazine,’ a reporter said.

I found my mother.

‘Patna? Now?’ she said.

‘The Foundation people need me to sign some paperwork.’

‘I thought they went to Gaya for the other programme.’

‘Some of them did. Since they have announced the aid, I need to

sign documents.’

‘Go after lunch. Right now we have guests.’.

‘Ma, I need to go now,’ I said.

My mother sensed something amiss.

‘Where is that divorcee friend of yours?’ she said. ’Saree and what

all she wore today.’

‘Her name is Riya, Ma. Not divorcee friend,’ I said, irritated.

‘I didn’t make her a divorcee.’

‘She’s dying,’ I said.

‘What?’

I told her about Riya being ill.

‘Poor girl. So young.’

‘I have to go to Patna.’

‘You are telling me or asking for my permission?’

‘I will call you,’ I said and left.

*

Locked. That’s how I found Riya’s house. The neighbours had no

clue.

‘Madam is strange. I have never had a client like this,’ said the

broker, Hemant, I had called him in case he knew anything.

‘What happened?' I said.

‘Where are you?' he said,

‘At her apartment. It’s locked.’

‘Wait, I need to come there anyway.'

Hemant arrived in twenty minutes.

’She called me last night. She said the keys will be in her letter

box,’ he said.

‘Keys?’

Hemant and I walked over to the letter boxes in the building

compound. He slid his hand in and drew out a bunch of keys.

‘When madam called me yesterday, she told me she was leaving

town. Needs to surrender the house,’ Hemant said, panting as we

climbed the stairs.

‘Surrender?’ I echoed stupidly.

‘I told her there is a notice period. Her security deposit will be

forfeited.'

‘And?’

‘She said she didn’t care. She said the landlord could keep the

deposit.’

He unlocked the apartment. We went in. Her furniture and TV were

all there. I went to the kitchen, Everything seemed to be in its place,

from the condiments to the appliances.The utensils and the gas stove

were still there. I went to her bedroom. I only found her clothes’

cupboard empty.

‘She’s left most of her goods here,’ Hemant said.‘She said I could

sell them.’

‘She did?’

‘Really, she did,' Hemant said, worried I might stake a claim.

‘Madam said I could sell these goods to cover any costs of breaking

the lease or finding the landlord a new tenant.’

‘What else did she say?’ I said.

‘Sir, l can keep these things?’

‘Hemant, tell me exactly what she said. Did she say where she was

going?’

‘No, sir. Sir, even the TV I can keep?’

‘Hemant,’ I said, grabbing hold of him by the shoulder.‘What else

did she say?’

‘She said she wouldn’t be coming back as she has quit her job.’

'Did she say where was she going?' I said, shaking his shoulder.

‘No, sir,' Hemant said, looking scared, ‘Sir, you want some of these

things? Really, I am not that type of person, She did say I could keep

them.’

I ignored him and went to the balcony. I looked down at the street.

I took out the letter from my pocket and read it again.

'I love you,’ it said at the end. I had read that line over a hundred

times on my way to Patna.

‘Not fair, Riya,’ I said out loud,‘not fair.'

‘Sir?’ Hemant came out to the balcony.

'If you hear anything from her, her company, her friends or

anyone, let me know,’ I said.

‘Sure, sir. Sir, I will move her items to a godown. I can wait for

some time in case someone comes for them before selling them off.’

‘Whatever,’ I said.

34

Chetan Bhagat’s room,

Chanakya Hotel, Patna

‘You okay?’ I said.

He had paused to wipe his tears. I gave him time. He bit his lip but

it was a losing battle. Soon, he was crying like a two-year-old, his tall torso slumped on the chair.

‘I don’t know why I’m crying. It was a long time ago,’ Madhav

said in between sobs.

‘How long?’

‘Two years and three months. Three and a half months, actually.’

‘Since she left?’

‘Yes.’

He excused himself and went to the toilet. I made two cups of

green tea. We had finished our first cup of chai a long time ago. He

came out in a few minutes. He had washed his face.

‘Sorry,’ he said.I lost it.’

‘Here, have some more tea.’

I gave a cup to him. He took a sip.

‘What tea is this?’

‘Green tea.’

‘No milk? No sugar?’ he said. He looked at me like I was a

vegetarian vampire.

‘It’s good for you,’ I said.

‘Is it? Anyway, thanks,’ he said.

‘So, Madhav. What happened then? You met the broker. You saw

her empty house. Then? Did you try to find her?’

He nodded.

‘I did. I called her company. They said she had submitted her

resignation and left, letting go of all her benefits in return for a shorter notice period.'

‘When did she resign?’

‘A week before writing the letter to me.’

‘So she knew she was leaving?’ I said.

‘Yes.When she told me to stay that night, she knew it was our last

night together. She had planned it.’

He grew sad again.

‘What else did you do?’

‘I asked the company for the list of assigned doctors. I met them.

They said Riya had come only once, when she first had a cough. After

that she had preferred to consult with her family doctors.’

‘In Delhi?’

‘Yes. In fact, I went to Delhi.’

‘To look for her?’

‘I had to go there anyway, to complete the paperwork for the grant.

I went to her house. She wasn’t there.’

‘You met her parents?’

‘Her mother. Her father had passed away a month ago.’

He sipped his tea and turned silent.

‘Did her mother know anything?’ I said.

‘No. She knew less than I did. According to her, Riya had called

her and said she might do a meditation course. That is why her phone

wasn’t reachable, she told me.’

‘You told her about the cancer?’

‘Couldn't. I didn’t have the guts to. I just expressed my

condolences over her husband’s death and left.’

‘And you came back to Bihar?’

‘Eventually, yes. Before that, I called every top hospital in Delhi to

ask about Riya. Nobody knew where she was. I contacted her family

doctor. He hadn’t heard from her for years. I called her old friends

from college.They had lost touch with her. I searched on the Internet;

she wasn’t on Faccbook or any other site. I tried contacts at phone

companies. I called the major yoga ashrams in the country. Nothing.’

His face fell. I could see he found this conversation difficult.

‘I tried for three months. I hoped she would call me one more time

before she left this world. She didn't.’

‘You’re okay now?’

‘I was okay. Until these journals popped up. For the last two years,

I have focused exclusively on the school.The grant has made us one of

the best schools in the area, You should definitely come to visit.’

‘I will. Madhav, you loved her a lot, didn’t you?’

‘She is the only girl I ever loved. I don’t know if it is a lot, or less

than a lot. I do know one thing, though.’

‘What?’

‘I will never love again. Ever.’

‘Why?’

‘Something is broken inside me. I don’t have the equipment or

wiring or whatever one needs to fall in love anymore.’

I stood up from my chair and went tb the bedside table. He

continued to talk, more to himself chan me.

‘I have my school. I have my mother.That is my life.’

I picked up the journals from the bedside table. I brought them to

Madhav.

‘So how did you get these journals?’

‘Hemant called me. He had taken all of Riya’s stuff to the godown

to sell it. However, he had missed a wooden box in the far corner of

the kitchen loft. The loft was a storage space in the kitchen to keep dry groceries. A company took the house on lease after Riya. They used

the apartment as a guest house. They almost never used the kitchen.

Two years later, the company vacated the apartment and a family of

four rented it. The lady of the family found the box and handed it to

Hemant. Hemant, in turn, called me and handed me the box with the