Authors: Chetan Bhagat
Half Girlfriend (33 page)
accompanied her on stage. She continued to sing.
'I saw your face in a crowded place,
And I don’t know what to do,
’Cause I’ll never be with you.’
My tiredness evaporated. No more aches and pain. Blood flowed
through my body again. My face felt flushed and hot compared to the
freezing cold a minute ago.
She sang from her heart. The crowd loved her and cheered. She
opened her eyes between lines and smiled at the crowd's reaction. She
had not seen me yet.
I removed my jacket and put it on a table. I walked right up ahead
to the stage and stood before her.
‘You’re beautiful. You’re beautiful.
You’re beautiful, it’s... ’
Her voice vanished as her eyes met mine. The pianist looked at her
surprised, wondering why she had missed her lines.
Riya stood up.The guitar looked unsteady in her hand.
The pianist filled the gaps with an instrumental interlude.
Riya put her guitar aside slowly. I continued to look at her.
We stood before each other, silent and frozen. The crowd began to
murmur, wondering what was happening.
The pianist figured something was amiss. He took the rnic and
continued the song.
‘You're beautiful, it’s true.'
I just kept looking at her.
What all you made me go through, Riya Somani,
my eyes said.
I’m sorry
, her eyes said to me. A tear ran down her cheek. Mine
too.
I thought I would have so much to say to her when I finally met
her. I had mentally rehearsed it many times. I would be angry at first.
I would shout, tell her how much she had put me through. I would
then tell her what she meant to me. How I was not that jerk, Rohan. Or
that others may have let her down, but I wouldn’t. And that my mother
could only be happy if I was. I had my speech all planned.
However, neither of us said a word.
We just looked at each other and cried, and cried. After some time
she stepped forward. That is all Riya Somani does. She gives you a
little clue she is ready. You just need to be alert enough to pick it up. I opened my arms. They shook as she came closer. I took her in my
arms.
‘I... I’m sorry...’ she said.
‘Shh,’ I said. ‘Remember you placed a condition last time? No
questions asked twice. I have one now.’
‘What?’ she said in the softest whisper.
'No questions at all. In fact, if possible, no words.’
She buried her face in my chest. I lifted her chin.
‘Riya Somani, I love you. Always have. Always will. Please, never,
ever leave me.’
She shook her head and said,‘l won’t...I can’t...’
I continued,‘Shh... Because next time I will find you again and kill
you.’
She smiled and cried at the same time Some of the crowd cheered,
even though they were confused about what was going on. The pianist
ended the song. The restaurant staff switched on the concert room
lights. People began to make their way out.
I continued to hold her.
‘Sorry, I left because I got scared... ’ she said.
‘I know.’
‘But how did you...?’ she said.
‘I said, no questions.’
‘Just one last one.’
‘What?’
‘Why is your shirt so wet and cold?’ she said. I laughed.
‘What?’ she said.
‘Nothing.’
46
'Upper West, 70th and 6th,’ she said.
We were in a black Lincoln car, which the organizers had arranged
for the singers. The car took us to her apartment on the Upper West
Side near the western side of Central Park. I can’t remember much of
the journey except her face and the way it looked in the changing
lights. And that the city seemed more beautiful than any other night in
the past three months. I clasped her hand tightly and leaned back on
the seat, just looking at her face.
*
She turned the key and we were in her apartment. There were
music posters all over the walls.The window faced the park, now dark,
apart from the streetlights. She went to the bedroom to remove her
makeup.
In the bathroom I undressed and noticed the bruises and blisters on
my feet. My nose and ears looked raw and red. I took a hot shower. I
felt like a pack of frozen peas being thawed.
I finished my shower and realized I did not have fresh clothes. A
pink oversized T-shirt with a Dora cartoon hung in the bathroom.
Perhaps Riya used it as nightwear. I put on the T-shirt, wrapped a
towel around my waist and stepped out.
Riya laughed as she saw me in the girlie T-shirt.
‘Sorry, I didn’t...' I said.
She silenced me with a kiss. Her lips felt like warm honey. She
kissed me for a long time, holding my face in her hands. Our tongues
gently touched. I placed my left hand on her cheek. My right hand kept
my towel in place.
She guided my right hand to her back. Her gown was backless, and
I felt smooth skin.
She removed my pink T-shirt. I tried to remove her gown but it
was too complex a garment for me to understand. I tugged at it, and
then gave up.
She unzipped a side zipper and stepped out of it.
We embraced. We kissed. We touched. We caressed. We reached
the bedroom, the bed. Our lips never stopped kissing. Our hands
never stopped touching.
Every moment felt special as we made love. I entered her, and our
eyes met. Both of us felt strong and vulnerable at the same time. I saw
tears in her eyes.
‘You okay?’ I said.
She nodded. She brought her face close to my ear to whisper.
‘More than okay. I’m great,’ she said. ‘And you?’
‘More than great,’ I said.
We cuddled afterwards. She slept. I didn’t. I looked at her all night.
I realized this only when daylight seeped in through the windows. I
turned towards her. Her skin glowed in the morning light. Her
eyebrows were still perfect. Her eyes were shut.
‘You sleeping?’ I asked her.
She nodded.
Epilogue
Three and a half years later
‘It’s easily one of the best schools I have seen,’ I said.
‘It was not like this seven years ago,’ Madhav said.
I finished the tour of the Dumraon Royal School. Madhav had
invited me as the chief guest for their annual day function.
I passed a music class, from where high-pitched notes could be
heard. Madhav knocked on the door.
‘Riya, Chetan sir,’ Madhav whispered.
‘Please don’t call me sir,’ I said.
‘Sorry,’ Madhav said.
Riya stepped out. Madhav had not lied about her looks. She had
classic features and an elegant demeanour.
‘Chetan sir, finally. Madhav has talked so much about you,’ Riya
said.
‘No sir. And, trust me, Madhav has told me a lot about you too.’
She laughed. Madhav told her to finish the class and meet us
outside.
‘It’s lovely here,’ I said. We walked out of the main building into
the school garden. Students had decorated the new basketball court
with flowers. A function to inaugurate the court was scheduled for
later in the evening.
‘We wanted to call you earlier, but thought it better to invite you
here when we had a basketball court,’ Madhav said.
‘The court is beautiful.’
‘All the equipment is from the US,’ Madhav said. ‘Riya and I spend
three months there every year. She does a few music gigs. I help out at
the UN and also do some marketing of my rural tours.’
Madhav explained how they had started rural school tours, which
included a stay in the haveli. People came from all over the world,
allowing the school to earn revenue in dollars.
‘Tourists spend a day with our kids.They teach them a class, share
pictures or talk about their country. They say it is one of the most
meaningful things they have ever done in their life.’
‘That’s innovative.’
‘Students love it. They get an exposure to the world. Many tourists
send regular grants or gifts to the school later on.’
‘Where’s your mother?’
‘She’ll come soon. She spends less time at the school now. Riya
and I run it. Shyam keeps Rani Sahiba busy.’ Madhav laughed.
‘She is okay about Riya?’ I said.
‘You forget that she saw how I had become without her. She says
she is happy to have her son back. Not to mention grandson. Her new
darling.’
‘How old is your son now?’
‘Will turn two soon,’ Madhav said. ‘Here they come.’
I saw an elderly lady walk towards us holding a little boy’s hand in
one hand and a large tiffin box in another.
The school bell rang. Hordes of kids ran out. Riya joined us.
‘Everyone’s here,’ she said.
Shyam extracted his hand from his grandmothers and came
running up to his parents. He looked like a chubby baby version of
Riya.
‘Shyam is too tall and too naughty for his age,’ Rani Sahiba said
when Madhav had introduced us.
We sat in the amphitheatre seats of the basketball court. Riya
served everyone a lunch of chapats, daal and carrot-and-peas subzi
from the tiffin box.
Shyam saw a basketball on court. He ran down the amphitheatre
steps for the ball.
‘Careful,’Rani Sahiba said.
‘He’s your daredevil grandson,’ Riya said.
Shyam took the ball in his hand.
‘Shoot,’ Riya said.
Shyam took a shot. His little hands couldn’t throw the ball high
enough to reach anywhere near the basket. He tried two more times
and failed.
He looked at his father.
‘It’s not happening,’ he said.
‘So what? Don’t quit. It will happen one day,’ Madhav said.
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My phone beeped. I had a new message. My heart beat fast as I
‘Phil, do you want to?’ Mr Gates said.
