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Authors: Chetan Bhagat

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BOOK: Half Girlfriend
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Sometimes you need a knock on the head to come hack to your

senses. I received it hard knock today. I don’t know what happened to
me yesterday. I kissed Madhav on the roof of his haveli. It made me

forget reality. I started dreaming.

And how the dream crashed. Just when those silly feelings of 'this

seems so right' started to take root, Rani Sahiha brought me back to

my senses.

The signs were already there. How could I forget those

disapproving glances from her in the living room? How idiotic of me

to open up to her. Just because she was Madhav’s mom, I thought she

would also accept my past like Madhav did? She fed me litti-chokha.

It didn't mean she liked me.

‘Are you the girl he was involved with in college?’ she asked me in

the school staffroom today, when Madhav went to take his class. I

didn’t know what to say. I had no idea what Madhav had told her

about me.

'We were good friends, yes,' I said.

‘And now?’ she said.

‘Friends only. Nothing else, aunty’ I said, a stammer in my voice.

'I know my son. He will get involved with you again.’

‘Aunty, we do like each other but... ’

‘Stay out of his life,’ she said shortly.

‘Aunty, but..,'

She stared at me.

‘You are divorced. You must be desperate for another man. My

son is handsome and a prince here. Of course, I can sense your

plans.’

‘Plans?’

‘It is so easy for your type. One man didn’t work out, so get

another.’

If it were not Madhav’s mother, I would have snapped back. I

controlled myself.

'I don’t want anyone,’ I said.

‘Then leave him. He is too weak for you.’

'I expect nothing,’ I said. She handed me a tissue when she saw my

tears. ‘He does.’

Rani Sahiba folded her hands.

‘He is all I have. If you stay here, he will never move on. You may

be a big shot in Delhi. However, the Prince of Dumraon won’t be with

a Marwari divorcee. Respect in society is also worth something,’ she

said.

I wasn’t respectable, I guess.

‘What do you want me to do? Stop meeting him?’

‘That won’t be enough. He won’t stop chasing you. You have done

mayajaal on him.’

Before I could answer, Madhav arrived. He pulled me by my hand

to take me to the classroom.

Mayajaal, an illusory trap. Nice one, Rani Sahiba.

5 March 2009

I’m in Delhi. Dad passed away last night.

I saw him in the ICU yesterday afternoon. He could barely talk.

He said I had to meet Gupta uncle, his lawyer.

I went to Gupta uncle’s office. He told me my father had stashed

away some money for me in a secret account.

‘Don’t tell your brothers or anyone at home. They may sue and

the matter will be stuck in the courts for years,’ Gupta uncle said.

I signed the papers. I remained silent during the funeral.

I was in two minds. I knew why Dad was giving me the money. It

was hush money, money for me to go away from his mind, from his

conscience, from his guilt. But I told myself to be practical. I will
need the money where I’m going.

Also, maybe I was ready to forget and move on. Not forgive, but

forget.

14 April 2009

I leave in three days. No more drama. No more dealing with

another boy’s mother. I don’t want anyone’s pity either. I am a

divorcee. If that makes me tainted, so be it.

I am not upset with Rani Sahiba. I came to Patna to be alone.

Madhav happened. Yes, he's nice. I know he loves me, and is falling

for me more and more every day. I like him, too. Is that why I said yes
to a job in Patna? Did I do so in the hope of meeting him again?

Perhaps.

To be loved and to love is nice. However, right now, more than

love, I want peace.

Madhav won’t get it. He won’t let go if I explain all this to him. I

have been through it. He hasn’t. He won’t stop pursuing me. The

simplest way out is if he thinks I am no longer an option.

I had a minor infection in Dumraon. So far, I have pretended it

hasn’t healed. Hence, when I leave, it will be more believable. Sure,
he will be upset. However, he will get over it eventually and marry a
princess sooner or later, who will come to him without a past, without
deep dark secrets.

My fingers shake as I write this. I must stay strong. I have to type

my parting note. I am faking my illness. Maybe I can at least be

honest in my last letter and tell him how I feel about him...

He's coming home for the final rehearsal, it will be our last night

together. Is it wrong if I make him stay over?

35

Chanakya Hotel, Patna

Madhav continued to stare at the last page long after he had read it,

fists clenched.

‘What?’ he burst out and went silent.

He turned his gaze from the journal to me.

‘What is this, Chetan sir?’ he said.

‘Your friend’s journals, remember?’ I said.

He slammed the notebook shut, and took rapid shallow breaths. He

buried his face in his hands, ran fingers through his thick, uncombed

hair. He remained still until I touched his shoulder.

‘Are you all right?’ I said.

He looked at me in a dazed way. His face had turned an intense

shade of red.

‘She’s alive,’ he mumbled.

‘That is what it seems like,’ I said.

‘She’s alive,’ he said again. His body began to shake

uncontrollably.

‘So you see why I called you.You said she’s dead. You wanted to

throw these journals away.’

‘How could she lie? Such a big lie.. .the bitch.’

He fought back tears.

‘Madhav, you said you loved her. What kind of language is this?’

‘I... I... ’ he said and stopped, unable to finish the sentence, the

thought.

'You’re in shock.'

'She always does this. She runs away.The only way she deals with

issues is by running away,’

He broke down then, tears in his stubble.

'It took me years to get over her. I have still not healed, How could

she...?’he muttered to himself,.

‘At least you found out,’ I said.

‘She didn’t want me to. She wanted to dump me again.’

'She wanted to protect herself. And you.’

'Me? How did this protect me?’

'She didn’t want to be a burden in your life.’

‘Riya could never be a burden in my life. She was my life,’

Madhav matter-of-factly.

I handed him a tissue. He crushed it in his hand instead of wiping

his eyes.

‘Aren’t you happy she’s alive?’

‘I should be, but all I feel is anger right now.’

‘I can understand.’

‘Two years. Not a single day when I didn't think of her.’

‘What are you going to do, Madhav? I said.

He ignored my question.

‘When she left, I almost needed to be treated for depression,’ he

said, mostly to himself.

‘You went through a lot.’

‘Chetan sir, does what she did seem fair to you?’

'I guess not. But life is complicated sometimes. She seemed to have

her reasons.’

‘My mother? How is it even an issue? In fact, even my mother says

Riya made rne look more alive than anyone else.’

‘Riya had a bad experience. Once bitten and all that.’

‘I’m not Rohan.’

Like always, I had become over-involved in a situation. I needed to

get home. It was Madhav Jha who had to plan what to do next.

He seemed lost in thought. I stood up to pack my bags.

‘Can I stay for some more time?’ he said.

‘Sure,’ I said, shrugging my shoulders. He went to a corner of the

room to make a phone call. I zipped up my suitcase. He returned after

a few minutes.

'I called her home in Delhi. Her mother says she has not heard

from her in years,’ Madhav said.

‘She really has disappeared from everywhere,’ I said.

I lifted my bag from the bed atid placed it on the ground. I pulled

out the rod of my strolley.

‘I’m sorry.This is the only flight to Mumbai today.’

‘Thank you for whatever you did.'

‘I did nothing.’

‘Can I accompany you to the airport?’

*

We sat in the car in silence. He spoke after passing two traffic

signals. ‘I’ll find her,’ Madhav said in a calm but decisive voice.

I looked at him.

‘Are you serious?’

‘Yes.’

‘Where could she be?’

‘I have a hunch. She always used to mention her dream. To be a

singer in a small bar in New York.’

‘So?’

‘If she has cut herself off from the entire world, wouldn’t she

finally want to pursue her dream?’

‘How can you be sure? Where in New York? Or maybe she found

another city? Or maybe she is doing something else?’ I said.

‘So you think I shouldn’t look?’

‘I’m just being realistic. Sorry, I didn’t mean to discourage you.’

We remained silent for the rest of the drive. We reached the Lok

Nayak Jayaprakash Airport. He helped me load my bag on the trolley. I

told myself to withdraw from this situation. I couldn’t.

‘Keep in touch,’ I said, as the security guard at the entrance

checked my photo ID and ticket.

‘I will, sir.’

‘You really are going to look for her?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Even though you may never find her and end up in more pain?’

He nodded.

‘I can’t quit, sir. It’s not in my genes to do so.’

36

After Chetan Bhagat left, I remained in Patna for a while. I met as

many people as I could from Riya’s past.

First, I went to her old office.

‘She resigned but did not tell us her plans,’ Mohini, her ex-

colleague at Nestle, told me.

‘Did she seem sick?’

‘Not really,’ Mohini said.

I visited East India Travels, the agency Nestle’s staff used.

‘You remember Riya Somani? She worked at Nestles Patna office

two years ago,’ I said.

‘Pretty girl?’ said Ajay, the young agent at the travel agency.

‘Extremely pretty,’ I corrected him.

‘Madam did use this agency. Her father had become quite sick.

Round trip to Delhi, right?’ Ajay said.

‘Yes, anything after that?’ I said.

Ajay pounded his keyboard. He shook his head a couple of times.

‘Anything?’

‘Trying,’ Ajay said and spoke after a minute.‘I have something. She

took another flight to Delhi. One way. On 17 April 2009.’

I checked the screen. She had flown out the same day as the Bill

Gates talk.

I went to the car-hire company. However, they didn’t maintain old

records so they had no idea.

I went to Kotak Mahindra Bank, where Riya had her salary

credited. I met Roshan Joshi, the branch manager.

‘Client information is confidential,’ he said.

‘She disappeared. I’m trying to find her.’

‘Is she missing? Do you have a police report? We could help then.’

‘She went on her own.’

‘Sir, how can I reveal someone’s bank account information?’

I hated doing this, but I called MLA Ojha from the branch

manager’s office. Ojha loved to do favours so he could ask for one in

return later. He asked the Patna city MLA to give Roshan a call.

Five minutes later, I had Riya’s accounts.

'Sorry, I didn’t know you knew our MLA, sir...’ Roshan said.

I scanned her statements. On 14 April, Riya had withdrawn the

entire balance of three-and-a-half lakhs. The transaction had ‘FX’

written next to it.

‘What is FX?’ I said.

Roshan looked at the account statement.

‘It’s foreign exchange conversion. She has withdrawn the funds in

another currency.’

‘Which currency?’

‘US dollars.’

‘To travel to the US?’ I said.The lamp of hope flickered in me.

‘We don’t know. Indians often take US dollars to whichever

country they are visiting, and change it there.’

‘She has travelled abroad. Right?’

‘That’s likely.’

I left the bank and called Ajay at East India Travels.

‘Ajay, Madhav Jha here. I need to book a flight to Delhi, please.’

*

‘Ah, lucky, lucky girl,’ Samantha said.

‘Is she?’ I said.‘Married at nineteen. Divorced at twenty’

Samantha and I sat in the American Diner at the India Habitat

Centre in Delhi. She swirled the straw in her orange juice as I told her

Riya’s story.

‘That is indeed tragic,’ she said.‘However, she is lucky to have you

love her so much.’

I smiled.

‘Madhav, most girls would kill for a lover like you. I would,’

Samantha said.

‘Thanks,’ I said.

She took a deep breath. The waiter came with out food—a chicken

burger and a large order of French fries.

‘Anyway, so what can I do for you?’ Samantha said, a fry in one

hand.

‘I have to find her. Nobody seems to know where she is.’

‘That’s not a great place to start. Any clues?’

‘I have a hunch.’

‘Like an intuition?’

‘Well, a guess. A decent calculated guess. She could be in New

BOOK: Half Girlfriend
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ads

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